CHAPTER 108: OF ALL THE WAYS TO DIE

And who knew what more they would have given into for the sake of an unimaginable experiment.

For science.

For safety.

For whatever flimsy pretense they could cling to in order to deny the lust that had taken over the senses of people who should’ve known better than to swallow each other’s gasps.

Because who would have an answer to whatever drowned their common sense and left only the heat of mouths that could not stop finding each other.

Gasps were swallowed, groans were muffled, and the sound of wet, greedy kisses filled the air.

Kael and Riley were locked in a haze of wanton abandon. Their lips clung together again and again, even when breath demanded they part. And still, they cheated—breaking just enough to draw ragged air between their teeth, noses brushing, the corners of their mouths still touching. As if even a fraction of distance might snap the fragile illusion they had crafted, might force them to face what this was.

Because if they pulled away completely, they would have to talk.

They would have to talk about what the hell just happened. Why they were still at it when the supposed "goal" had already been accomplished.

So they didn’t.

Instead, they pressed closer.

Hands gripped at shoulders, at waists, sliding into places neither of them should have dared touch. Kael’s palm cupped the back of Riley’s head, pushing him deeper, while Riley’s fingers bunched against Kael’s chest like he could anchor himself there.

Their mouths opened, closed, drew each other in with low noises that sounded too much like need.

"Mnnh—" Riley tried to breathe, only to be caught again, lips captured in another bruising kiss.

"Hhh—" Kael’s chest rose sharply, exhale ghosting hot between them before he sealed them together once more, as if even that fraction of air could not be wasted.

The rhythm of it was frantic, starving, the kind of contact that had no patience for hesitation.

And just when it seemed they might lose all sense of where they began and ended—

BANG!

The door slammed open.

"Uncle!" burst a sudden dragonling, voice high and urgent, like he was holding in the announcement of an emergency.

Riley, who had just heard the door slam open, was convinced his heart, soul, and at least three of his internal organs had leapt right out of his body. He was still plastered tight against the golden wall of muscle that had been swallowing him whole moments earlier.

Startled so badly, he almost bit his own tongue. The only reason he didn’t was Kael’s sudden twist—so fast, so deliberate—that Riley’s entire body was dragged with him, hidden just as the door opened.

Extreme fear seized him. If anyone—if that dragonling—had seen him tangled up with Kael in that position, he would have happily begged the ground to open and swallow him.

"There! Uncle! Are you still sleeping?! There’s a strange person outside the manor! Should I dispose of him?" Orien shouted, only to freeze in surprise at the scene before him.

Kael lay on the bed, back facing the door, the picture of someone who had merely shifted in his sleep. Innocent. Ordinary. But the truth—unknown to the baby dragon—was that Riley was still crushed against his chest, shielded from view but not from shame. His ears flamed red, his wide eyes shrieked guilt, and the only way he’d feel truly hidden was if the universe kindly relocated him to another dimension.

The contrast was absurd. Kael: calm, unbothered, and just casually responding that it was someone who worked for him. Riley: looking like a criminal caught red-handed, his entire body stiff as a board, his expression the very picture of someone who had committed a crime against humanity.

"Huh? So it’s not an enemy?" Orien tilted his head, completely oblivious. The dragonling had practically flown through the halls to raise the alarm the moment he saw something unusual from the drawing room window.

Kael’s voice rumbled low, even, utterly composed. "That is the person in charge of acquiring materials for the child’s schooling."

"Oh!" Orien’s golden eyes brightened in recognition. "So should he be allowed inside, Uncle?"

"He won’t go in. He’s been instructed to leave the materials in a designated spot."

Riley was practically molded to Kael’s side, his cheek resting on the dragon lord’s bicep. He had no choice—if he so much as moved, he was sure he’d be exposed. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Kael’s other hand came up, a single finger pressing lightly against Riley’s lips to silence him.

And then—oh no.

The thumb shifted, brushing along his jaw in a slow, deliberate stroke. Riley’s eyes flew wide.

What the hell was he doing?

What the actual hell was he doing?!

Orien was literally at the door, talking to him, and here Kael was acting like they were alone and that something like that was even remotely possible without the eighteen levels of hell reversing?!

"Well, okay then! At least I’ll remember that smell now," the dragonling chirped, sounding relieved. "By the way, Uncle, can I bring over my blanket to the other room?"

"Mn."

A low hum, casual agreement. Kael’s nonchalance nearly sent Riley into cardiac arrest.

Oblivious, Orien happily padded into the room, fussing about as he gathered not only his blanket but also a bottle of his saved treasure for what he clearly imagined would be a sleepover.

Meanwhile, Riley’s heart thundered so hard it rattled his ribs. Orien was running around the room, close—too close—to the bed where Riley was still pinned and hidden. He figured this was it. This was how he would die. Not by dragons. Not by criminal attacks. But by a heart attack borne from sheer humiliation.

But Orien didn’t come that close. Not quite. Not until he paused at the door, blanket clutched to his chest, and turned back with a curious look.

"Uncle, are you sick? Why are you sleeping like that? Also... is Riley here?" The dragonling sniffed the air, frowning. "I thought I could smell a stronger version of his scent."

"Riley?"

The single word slipped from Kael’s lips, smooth, deep, and far too pointed. Riley almost kicked him in pure panic. Why was this dragon suddenly so talkative? Why wasn’t he dismissing Orien like always? Was this revenge? Was he trying to kill him? Kill them both?!

"Yeah, I thought I could smell more than a lingering scent, so I thought he was here. But maybe he went out." Orien shrugged, apparently answering his own question. Then, satisfied or just excited to return, he left and finally closed the door.

Riley felt the burden of Orien’s sudden interruption finally slip off his shoulders. Relief. Blessed relief.

But it lasted about three seconds.

Because almost immediately, it hit him. The real problem wasn’t the dragonling. No. The problem was the golden dragon still beside him. In fact, maybe it would have been safer if Orien had stayed. At least then, Riley wouldn’t have to deal with the disaster waiting in Kael’s eyes.

He counted to three, forced himself to breathe, then risked a glance for some kind of signal. Was it safe to leave now? Surely, like always, his boss would give some sort of signal so he could crawl out of this alive, no?

Instead, the look he got in return made him nearly bounce in place. Nope. Not safe. Not even close.

Which was why he practically leapt away, scrambling upright and blurting, "I-I can start the one-week vacation right away, right?"

Yes. Real mature. Really brave. He was sure anyone else would mock him for such a pathetic retreat, but honestly, how many people in his place wouldn’t just change their legal name and flee the territory?

Probably no one. In fact, some might just even decide to flee the planet entirely!

But he was aware. Riley was aware, so he was bracing to think of something to say when—

"Oh? Sure."

Riley froze.

He had been prepared to argue, to fight tooth and nail for his right to escape, but the dragon lord’s easy agreement left him completely speechless. He opened his mouth, ready with a rebuttal, then shut it again like a fool.

He said, "Sure."

Riley blinked at this, finding the situation extremely unusual. But he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The human aide who had been kissed to within an inch of his life earlier—an event he was now trying to bury deep, deep down into the void—therefore prepared to crawl away on hands and knees. A free man.

But then Kael shifted. He turned over, lounging on his back with his head against the pillow, as if nothing short of murder had taken place in this very spot minutes ago.

The contrast was jarring. Riley was ready to combust, nerves fried beyond recognition, while Kael looked like he had just enjoyed a nap.

Maybe that was why Riley made the mistake of looking at him again. Because if he had just run, just bolted, he wouldn’t have heard the next words.

"Sure, you can have your vacation. Just be sure to report back if you experience severe pain from all the dragon blood you’ve ingested."

"!!!"

Riley froze mid-step. His brain short-circuited. "Wait—what?!"

"All that dragon blood you swallowed went straight into your stomach," Kael’s tone was deceptively calm, his hand drawing a slow line from his mouth down to his abdomen, pausing deliberately low as if demonstrating each step. "I was merely pointing out how you should tell me if something happens later on. You know where to look for me, right?"

"!!!"

"H-how could you just say something so important now?! Wait! Remove it first!" Riley’s voice cracked, panic setting in.

"What do you think I’ve been dutifully doing?" Kael countered smoothly, one brow arching. "But what could I do when you’re the one so eager to start your vacation right away?"

"KAEL!" Riley’s scream rang through the room, raw with frustration, while the dragon lord lay there, smugness radiating like sunlight.

This insufferable lizard!

Who cares if he’s got soft lips?!