CHAPTER 25: QUIET START OF A SCANDAL

Riley knew he should have left.

Really. He knew it.

He could have said something respectful. Something polished. Maybe even something like, "As a humble human under the Ministry, I shall now excuse myself to honor the sacred privacy of dragonkind."

It would’ve sounded mature. Professional.

But no.

Because Riley Hale had a problem. And its name was curiosity.

The kind that didn’t just kill the cat but asked questions after the explosion.

So he stayed.

And now?

Now he was knee-deep in overtime paperwork and trying to decide what to do with half a dozen videos, shaky audio, and a severely pixelated close-up of a merfolk fist going straight into a dragon’s gut.

He slumped over the side desk in Kael’s office, silently mourning his day off.

The documents stacked beside him weren’t even sorted. There was a faint water stain on one page from when someone—him—spilled coffee in mild panic.

Technically, he wasn’t even supposed to have all this evidence.

But then again, technically, he wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.

He could’ve handed it over to the enforcers.

Filed a neat report. Wiped his hands. Moved on.

Except he didn’t.

And thank all the saints for that—because if Kael had seen Ministry officials stumble in and blurt "We’ve got the footage!" before he got a proper look? Riley would’ve been reduced to ashes faster than the deadline for his tax dues.

But still...

Why all the secrecy?

Why did Kael look like someone had kicked the base of an ancient shrine when Orien first started talking?

Because dragons didn’t just... forget how to transform.

That wasn’t a thing.

It wasn’t like misplacing keys or leaving the stove on. It was built into them. Bone-deep. Blood-bound.

And yet, Orien had sat there—back straight, face pale—and said it like a confession.

"I woke up... and I couldn’t shift anymore."

Even now, Riley could still remember the silence after those words.

Because not only was that preposterous, but also extremely dangerous.

In his years of working for the Ministry, this was the first time he’d heard about such a phenomenon.

The teen thought so too, and he sat back to expound on his last memories.

Orien tried to remember.

In fact, from the day he woke up, he’d been trying to piece everything together.

He remembered having dinner. The usual. Grilled skybeast meat with a drizzle of storm honey. After that, he reviewed his lessons.

Just like always.

Then he must have fallen asleep.

That part was normal.

It’s everything after that that wasn’t.

He woke up somewhere else. And it was evident that he wasn’t in his room. In fact, he wasn’t even on a bed.

But worse, the cold floor almost distracted him from his bound arms and legs. Almost.

When he tried moving, a sharp ache in his shoulder practically got him yelping.

Dust clung to his face, and something wet slid down his cheek. He hoped—desperately—that it wasn’t what he thought it was. Hopefully, what’s left of his nose was wrong.

He was initially disoriented, after all, who wouldn’t be?

Then, after a while, he assumed it was a prank.

Maybe one of the other young dragons was being stupid again.

But when he tried to burn the ropes away, nothing happened.

No warmth. No spark. No fire in his blood.

Just silence.

And when he tried to shift—

Nothing.

His whole body rebelled. Something was missing.

It was like trying to breathe underwater—everything felt wrong, heavy, and slow.

His heart pounded, first in confusion, then in fear.

Even his senses weren’t the same. The world was too quiet.

He used to hear footsteps two floors above. Now, he couldn’t even hear the ones bringing him water.

He’s been handed water several times now, but he wasn’t crazy enough to drink water from the merfolk.

So he kept turning his head away both out of instinct and out of pride.

But they splashed it on him anyway.

The moment it touched him, the world tilted.

Colors spun. His limbs went numb.

And then, everything went dark.

He came to when someone kicked him, which was apparently just a prelude to being dragged like a sack of meat while being told to stay quiet.

He’d apparently die if he made a peep, and Orien could only gnash his teeth as he remembered it. Because in the end, he listened, hoping he’d figure out just what was happening.

What he found odd was how they kept asking what he was.

Not who. But what.

One of them guessed he might be a snake shifter—because he hadn’t spoken a word. Because he was too quiet.

Idiots.

After that, they only spoke in merfolk, which, without his abilities, he couldn’t even understand. At this, he decided to learn about other races. What use was learning about dragons when he’d apparently face such a thing?

But that would have to wait until he was free from this. And just how that would happen, he wasn’t sure.

All he knew was that they kept moving, dragging him along until they reached that alley where the dumpsters were.

That was where the human appeared.

At first, Orien had been confused—then stunned.

He had never seen a human knock two merfolk to the ground with something that spat lightning.

Later, when they were in that dingy place, that same human tried asking for his name.

Orien said nothing.

The man then asked if he had lost his voice or if he was under a spell. Told him to blink or nod if he couldn’t speak.

"Insolence!"

Orien had snapped back without thinking.

Because even stripped of his power, he was still a dragon.

But the aide only raised an eyebrow and muttered something about how dragons his age weren’t even supposed to be outside.

Was that a threat?

No. Just facts. Cold and clinical.

Delivered like a punishment.

And worst of all—he was right.

Still, Orien refused to say anything more.

Well, not until his uncle arrived.

But he wasn’t going to discuss his opinions about humans and instead relayed what he remembered until they reached the dumpsters.

Orien then looked at Riley, as if expecting him to relay the remaining events.

The aide could only sigh and say, "I have a few videos..."

"But I’ll transfer them to another device first. I don’t want this phone to be toasted without a backup, My Lord."

Orien stiffened. That sounded disrespectful.

Yet, his uncle said nothing.

Orien blinked. Maybe... maybe that was allowed?

Riley eventually handed over the second device. The oldest device that has practically survived several apocalyptic scenarios, a.k.a. his boss.

Kael watched, staying still the entire time until he looked over with a raised brow.

"Of all the things you could have used, a taser?"

"It worked," Riley replied. "Got the job done."

Kael’s voice was dry. "Do you want an award?"

"No, my lord. But overtime and hazard pay would be lovely. Also, you might want to examine the victim for traces of whatever made him like this, because there really has to be something."

Kael’s eyes narrowed. Then he moved his fingers in a gesture. Subtle. Ancient.

Of course, there was something. The moment Kael heard it, he thought about that instantly.

Orien flinched.

His legs burned, forcing out a yelp he’d been keeping down. Something pulsed around his ankles.

Then he saw it.

"What—?"

Kael’s voice was sharp.

"A restriction artifact. This item shouldn’t exist outside the vault."

Riley’s eyes went wide.

The young and inexperienced dragon didn’t understand. But the look on his uncle’s face said everything.

This was bigger than a kidnapping.

Riley stood quietly to the side, clutching at his desk.

He probably wouldn’t get a refund on that day off, no?

And just like that, the quiet investigation began.

Disguised as a simple meeting.

One that could lead to sweet, sweet freedom... or an indefinite curse.

Because really—

Who would’ve guessed his stingy, fire-breathing boss came from such generous parents?