CHAPTER 83: SECONDHAND FEELINGS

There was certainly more to it. In reality, it wasn’t just anguish.

If he had to put it into words, it felt like his heart had been carved out, leaving nothing but a hollow void, only for that emptiness to be swallowed by anguish so consuming it nearly drowned him.

No wonder his body shut down. That wasn’t something anyone could just shake off.

And now the air between them was heavy, awkward, because Kael’s reaction made it obvious he had been affected by what was said. The dragon lord’s mask had cracked for a heartbeat. And while prying into the golden lizard’s private business was the last thing on his list, neither did he want to be caught unprepared the next time this kind of thing happened.

What if he were in the middle of running for his life and suddenly collapsed because of it?

Wouldn’t that be the most humiliating obituary ever? Human aide, flattened mid-sprint, cause of death: secondhand dragon feelings.

And just how much resentment would he have for Kael if he died in such a manner?

Wouldn’t he end up becoming a vengeful spirit like that?

His voice steadied, though his fingers twitched nervously against the book. "I know it doesn’t look important, nor is it really my place to ask. But while you’re able to survive it and protect yourself with your instincts, I don’t think I can. Not when I nearly perished from it."

Golden eyes fixed on him, unreadable.

"So I just wanted to let you know... in case something like that happens again." His tone softened at the end, betraying more unease than he’d meant to reveal. Because, at the very least, he understood that it would be impossible to decide when and where to feel like that. Because if anyone could, then no one would likely volunteer to feel such emotions.

He just wanted to make him more aware of possible breakdowns because it would be a two-for-one deal for them.

Kael stared at him like he had sprouted horns. The silence stretched long enough to force him to clarify.

"For the record," Riley muttered quickly, "that was the first time it happened. As for your regular emotions, I don’t seem to feel them." His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

"But earlier, that was something I couldn’t deny."

Their eyes locked, neither looking away, the air charged with something too taut to dismiss. It was as though they were testing how long they could hold the line without blinking, without moving, without shoving the other away.

Finally, Kael broke the silence. "Alright. I will keep that in mind."

That was it.

The aide blinked. But then again, Riley didn’t really think that Kael would be one to share his issues like that. If he barely shared good news, what more about such things?

Still, his mind churned.

If something like that could be retold, would he even survive it the next time? And with the entire weight of it?

Probably not. Not when what Seris said was enough to nearly take him out.

One certainty sat heavy in his chest. Even without probing further, that anguish had something to do with the dragon lord’s actual mate.

But dragons mated for life. That was the story, the legend, the whispered truth passed through every culture.

So how was Kael still here? Still alive?

The thought chilled him. If he actually asked, Kael would sneer in that way only he could, the kind that said alive is relative.

And maybe that was true. Because while others would call Kael fortunate for still breathing, the aide—who had tasted a fragment of that pain—could tell the truth more clearly.

And with this, Riley might even be able to understand Kael’s way of thinking.

Because for the dragon lord, the question was, would it really be called living if one had to endure that kind of grief every single day?

When there was really nothing to live for?

Maybe it would’ve been better to go. But then again, who had forced him into the seat of Dragon Lord? A leader of the very clan that had failed him. Failed them.

The silence between them stretched just long enough for the air to thrum.

Frustration curled at the edges, not his own this time but Kael’s, heavy and prickling. He stiffened, clutching his chest like bracing for another wave. "Wait—are you actually testing it?"

Golden eyes cut to him, sharp, unreadable. "What, you’re saying you felt something?"

"Yes. Frustration!" His glare shot back just as quickly, though the surprise in his eyes betrayed him.

Kael’s brow arched. "No. I wasn’t testing anything."

"Well then, what about thinking happy thoughts?" The words tumbled out before he could stop himself, desperation dripping from every syllable. Like, wouldn’t it be better if another option also worked?

"Happy thoughts?" The repetition was low, skeptical, as though the dragon lord found the concept alien.

"Yes! I don’t know, something? Anything. Maybe think of gold or something. Or if that doesn’t work, maybe just imagine satisfaction. Like when you finish a long day."

The faintest twitch ghosted across Kael’s lips, a reaction he wasn’t showing fully. "So now you’re even policing my emotions?"

"Ha." The sarcastic sound escaped before Riley tilted his chin, plastering on the kind of grin that begged for a punch and screamed insubordination. "Who knows, maybe next time we can count your air intake too."

The air between them shifted.

That charged sensation again. He could tell the dragon lord was teasing, irritation half-masked under deliberate calm. If anything, Kael probably hated being read like that. Annoyed to have his emotions used as material. Although thankfully, it seemed limited to strong surges. If every mood change was transmitted, he’d be dead by sundown.

Thankfully, it stopped there.

Their research pressed on, the rhythm almost familiar. The only difference was the awkward seating arrangement: him perched against the golden menace’s lap like some prized object or, more accurately, a prisoner, while the guardians loomed from the corners, unblinking and relentless.

Honestly, if they were going to keep staring, he should have charged a viewing fee.