Chapter 128: The Dragon’s Chest Trap
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
A muffled groan escaped as someone buried deeper into the warmth, curling tighter like maybe sheer willpower could silence a phone alarm.
Of course, it didn’t. The obnoxious beeping only grew bolder, drilling straight into Riley Hale’s skull.
His hand moved on instinct, groping blindly for the phone on his nightstand. He knew the drill: slap the screen, roll over, go back to pretending his life wasn’t as tragic as it really was.
Except—
Thunk.
His fingers hit a wall.
Weird. The phone wasn’t usually hiding behind drywall.
Frowning, Riley tried again, stretching higher this time.
Thunk.
Wall. Again.
A slow, creeping sense of wrongness trickled in. His hand was blocked. His head too. And his body.
...What?
Riley’s eyes flew open, and instantly, he wished they hadn’t.
Because the first thing his sight was graced with was a chest. A bare chest. A very male, very warm, very scantily covered chest that was currently pressed against his face.
He froze. His brain, meanwhile, lagged like a broken app.
Chest.
Skin.
Smell.
Alive.
And that was when he did the stupidest thing imaginable. Instead of staying very, very still and pretending this wasn’t happening, Riley tilted his head up. Slowly. Horribly. Inevitably.
And there it was.
A face.
The face.
The very awake face of Dragon Lord Kael Dravaryn, golden eyes gleaming like sunrise and danger rolled into one.
Riley’s mind went blank.
"?!!??!"
Words. He had words. A whole novel’s worth of words. If only his mouth would stop glitching before he actually said them.
His shoulders rose, breath caught, ready to croak something out—only for the golden lizard across from him to narrow those impossible eyes and speak first.
"Took you long enough. If I didn’t know, I’d also assume you planned on sleeping until tomorrow."
Riley gaped. Gaped like a fish out of water. Because what else could he do? His brain refused to compute when even he was surprised to wake up like that.
Was he possessed?
Or had he finally fried his last survival instinct?
Staying close to the dragon lord was one thing. Gluing himself to him was another. And somehow his leg was even hooked around Kael’s leg like some clingy octopus.
Just how low had he sunk? How catastrophic was his fall from grace?!
That was when the memories hit him.
The sounds.
The pain.
The bleeding.
The tears.
Right. The tears.
Last night, he’d been this close to exploding from all the overwhelming noise in his head, yet somehow he survived. How? By listening to Kael’s pulse, of all things. Like that steady beat could ground him. And it had.
He groaned faintly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Fine. He would apologize. And maybe even say thank you. Because embarrassment aside, he knew how close he had been to shattering.
But before he could muster even a syllable, the bare-chested dragon lord—built with all muscle and, and evil spirits—spoke again
"Yesterday, you mentioned consequences for breaking the divider. So what was it?"
Riley’s jaw dropped. That wasn’t enough, though. Kael had to take it further.
"And what to do about all the workplace harassment?"
The human had barely woken up, yet his poor brain immediately short-circuited. Workplace harassment? Workplace. Harassment. Did Kael Dravaryn just say those words? Out loud? In a language Riley could understand?
His incredulous expression said it all. He could not believe the dragon lord even knew what such terms meant, let alone used them in a sentence.
But then, as if casually setting fire to reality itself, Kael added, "But thankfully for you, it seems I’d have to let it go after you’ve thoroughly announced our relationship to everybody."
"!!!"
Wait a damn moment!
By now, Riley had actually managed to bolt upright in sheer disbelief.
Meanwhile, Kael remained sprawled like some smug emperor, golden hair falling in all the right, ehem, wrong places, bare chest on full display.
It was criminal. Truly. Because Riley could not get over the fact that this absolute demon dared to say such things when he, of all people, was the promoter of workplace harassment.
He opened his mouth to unleash the verbal storm brewing in his chest. But before he could rain judgment, Kael spoke, voice infuriatingly calm.
"Starting with being called honey. With having been kissed in public. With having my lap invaded just the same. Then the other night, first my mouth, the bath, and now my body, what—"
Riley’s eyes widened with every word. Each example smacked him like a brick to the face, and the frazzled human realized fucking hell, he really did have a hand in all of those, but all out of necessity!
Absolutely, survival-level necessity! Not whatever nonsense Kael was implying.
"Sir, a human versus the dragon lord, if you had issues, then you could’ve flicked me to the wall!" Riley screeched, his face crimson. And frankly, he wished Kael had flicked him to the wall. Because then he wouldn’t be stuck living this mortifying reality.
His indignation only swelled as he jabbed a finger in Kael’s direction. "None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t ended up as your aide! Do you know how unsafe my life has been since? Random things keep happening! In the strangest places! So between us, who’s gotten the worse end of the stick?!"
His voice climbed higher, carried by outrage and years of pent-up grievances. But then, out of nowhere, Kael said, "Now tell me you want to go home."
The abruptness nearly made Riley choke. But as if conditioned—or maybe because the words reflected his raw, unfiltered truth—he blurted back instantly.
"You don’t even have to tell me, because I’m dying to go home!"
Even his eyes shimmered, dangerously close to bursting into tears. Because truly, he had suffered enough in this godforsaken place where even the air felt suspicious. And it hadn’t even been a week! So knowing he could be spending weeks or years here was enough to drive him nuts!
He didn’t notice that he was practically poking Kael’s chest in fury while declaring this. And in his anger, he didn’t notice how Kael’s lips curved faintly as he lowered the sound barrier around the bed.
What Riley did notice was the sharp knock on the door that followed an instant later.