CHAPTER 58: AISLES OF AWE AND OUTRAGE

The solar chargers were one thing, but Riley had also made the Dragon Lord lug around a few portable gas stoves.

After all, unlike him, his parents couldn’t just spit fire to cook.

Although unlike him, they also weren’t stuck in the weirdest, most inconvenient magical bond known to man.

So much for a life debt; this felt worse than a life sentence.

Riley shoved the thought away and focused. Not only were the stockings starting to itch, but he also didn’t want to risk walking into the wrong restroom just because he currently looked like a tall woman but was, in fact, a very exasperated man.

That was how he ended up dragging everyone back to the car, unloading their first haul, and then heading straight into the supermarket.

Kael had the audacity to question why they were making another trip when he could clearly carry everything in one go.

"It’s precisely because you can carry it that we need to drop it off," Riley explained. "You’re drawing too much attention walking around like that."

"Like what?" Kael’s voice was innocent, but his look screamed that he was fishing for a compliment.

Riley’s eyes swept over him once, and he forced a smile. "Inhumane."

The opening chime of the sliding glass doors cut off whatever smug reply Kael was about to make, because Orien—safe inside his duffel bag—suddenly ascended into another plane of existence.

From inside, his golden eyes turned into saucers. "What is this place?" he breathed, his voice reverent, like they had just crossed into a forbidden temple.

"This is just a supermarket," Riley whispered back. "Unlike the general store or the department store, this one’s all about food and necessities."

"Just?" Orien’s voice cracked. "There are mountains here. Mountains of shiny treasures! And—" he sucked in a gasp so sharp Riley thought he was choking, "—what is that golden liquid shimmering over there?"

Riley followed his gaze and sighed. "That’s... cooking oil."

The bag went completely still for two beats before Orien exploded. "COOKING OIL?! You mortals keep dragon nectar in giant barrels and sell it for coins?!"

"It’s not dragon nectar."

"It shimmers, it’s gold, and it’s clearly meant for the worthy. That’s dragon nectar. I want the biggest one."

"You don’t even know what it’s for."

"I don’t need to know. It’s gold. It’s mine."

"Rule number one—" Riley began, but Orien cut him off.

"I am being discreet. You’re the one ignoring the agreement."

They moved past the beverage aisle, and Orien’s head swiveled so fast Riley thought he’d snap his tiny dragon neck.

"What. Is. That."

"That’s lemon soda," Riley said warily.

"Why does it sparkle like bottled lightning?!"

"Because it’s carbonated."

Orien gasped like he’d uncovered a lost relic of dragon history. "I require it. Now. Two. No—six. One for each claw."

"I don’t think you have six claws."

"I’ll borrow claws."

Riley knew arguing was pointless. He grabbed two bottles of cooking oil and six bottles of soda, partly because they needed the oil anyway and partly because if Orien didn’t like it, Riley would drink the soda himself. Not that he expected to get even a drop if the dragon decided it was "worthy."

As they reached the snack section, Orien’s gasp was so loud a clerk turned to look. Riley faked a cough and patted the duffel. "Sorry, cat’s allergic to the air-conditioning."

"Cat?!" Orien hissed. "You dare compare me to a common beast?"

"Unless you want to blow our cover, yes."

The bag twitched like a sack of possessed laundry every time they passed something new—once for gummy bears, twice for a mountain of instant noodles.

Kael trailed behind like an impeccably dressed shadow, clearly entertained. "You seem to be enjoying yourself," he murmured.

"I am suffering, Uncle," Orien corrected. "There are too many treasures here for one dragon to bear."

By the time they reached toiletries, Orien was still muttering about "the golden elixir" (cooking oil), "the bottled lightning" (lemon soda), and "the hoard of endless flavors" (snacks) like he was composing an epic ballad.

At checkout, Riley’s basket was filled with practical things, clothes for Liam, toiletries, safe snacks, plus:

Two enormous bottles of cooking oil, six lemon sodas, a family-sized pack of spicy strips, multiple bags of gummy bears, and an overpriced flashlight from a display rack.

Riley held up the flashlight with dead eyes. "Why?"

Orien peeked through the bag’s eye holes, expression solemn. "It glows."

Riley sighed so hard the cashier looked worried.

However, this little supermarket ordeal should have been the least of Riley’s problems.

Because somewhere in the Dragon Clan’s Main Estate, Lord Karion and Lady Cirila were currently under siege—fending off a swarm of agitated dragon families who had clearly decided that today was the perfect day to riot.

"Lord Karion, we demand an answer regarding this matter," one elder snapped, his tail swishing like he was ready to use it as a whip.

"Surely," another voice added with a dramatic gasp, "you do not agree with tainting the Dragon Clan with a human?!"

Lady Cirila’s smile bloomed like a delicate flower... the kind that promised instant death if touched. "Now, now, my lord, isn’t that something you shouldn’t say... as someone whose current partner happens to be human?"

The poor man she addressed actually choked. "Wha—?!"

Murmurs spread like wildfire. The air practically vibrated with gossip and outrage.

Lord Karion, deciding that enough was enough, straightened his posture and spoke over the noise. "Haven’t you all had hundreds of years to introduce yourselves—and your children—to the current Dragon Lord?"

Silence.

The crowd froze, expressions ranging from confusion to mild panic.

"Because as I see it," Karion continued smoothly, "either we believe this is affection... or you’d all have to admit that your candidates are incompetent. And for one, I believe they’re not. But the judgment lies in your hands."

Several dragons shifted uncomfortably, as if being called "incompetent" was far worse than any supposed human scandal.

"But, My Lord!" one voice cried, desperate to claw back control of the conversation. "How are we supposed to believe this is genuine affection when the Dragon Lord has mourned the disappearance of his mate for how many centuries now?!"

Karion’s jaw tightened. Truth be told, he had no idea what in the hell his son was thinking. The situation baffled him too. But he wasn’t about to say that out loud.

"That," he said finally, with the crisp authority of someone ending a meeting, "is something we can check another time. Continuing to speculate today will bring nothing but a headache. Don’t you agree?"

Well... they clearly didn’t. But faced with the sharp edge in his tone, did they really have a choice?