Chapter 185: An Apology

Liona’s POV

The morning light was pale and thin, slipping through the cracks in the heavy curtains like it wasn’t quite sure it was welcome in the room.

I had been awake for hours, staring up at the dark wooden beams of the ceiling.

It wasn’t because I wanted to be awake.

It was because my mind simply would not stop spinning, replaying the look on his face over and over until my chest felt tight and hollow.

Earlier, I had slipped out of my room to check on Azura.

She was still tucked deeply under the thick furs of her bed, her breathing slow and even.

I stood beside her mattress for a long moment, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest, before I finally reached down and shook her shoulder.

"Azura," I whispered, nudging her gently.

"Wake up. Please."

She only groaned, pulling the blankets higher over her face, her voice muffled and thick with exhaustion.

"Want to sleep... just a few more hours, Li... let me sleep."

Then she rolled over, turning her back to me entirely.

I stepped away, my brows pulling together in a deep frown.

It didn’t make any sense.

She had been unconscious for three whole days after whatever had happened.

Why would she want more sleep now?

A strange, unsettling feeling washed over me, but I didn’t want to force her out of bed.

I left her alone in the quiet room, shutting the heavy door softly behind me.

When I stepped out into the main corridor, the chill of the castle bit at my bare arms.

Down at the end of the hall, near a tall, arched window where the pale morning light poured over the stone floor, I spotted Genevieve and Torin.

They were sitting close together on a long wooden bench, their heads leaning in as they spoke in low, hushed whispers.

Genevieve was listening intently, nodding her head slowly at whatever Torin was saying to her.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and began walking toward them, my boots clicking softly against the flagstones.

Torin must have heard my approach.

His ears twitched slightly, and he looked up first, his sharp brown eyes instantly locking onto me.

The serious line of his mouth dissolved, his face breaking into a warm, familiar smile that instantly made the cold corridor feel a little brighter.

"Liona," Torin said, his voice deep and welcoming as he shifted on the bench.

"What’s up? How are you feeling this morning?"

I forced my lips to stretch into a smile, though it felt stiff and awkward on my face, like a mask I hadn’t worn in a long time.

I turned my gaze to the beautiful woman sitting beside him, lowering my head slightly out of respect.

"Luna," I murmured.

Genevieve looked up at me, her expression gentle and entirely free of the arrogance I had faced from the dragon woman the night before.

"How are you doing, Liona?" she asked, her voice soft like a soothing blanket. "Are you holding up alright?"

I gave a short, quiet nod, my eyes dropping to the floorboards.

"I am feeling okay," I lied softly.

I hesitated, my fingers tangling together in the fabric of my tunic as I looked back up at Torin.

"Can I... can I talk to Torin for a little while? Just alone?"

Genevieve’s gaze shifted from my face to Torin’s, then back to me.

A look of quiet understanding crossed her features.

She smoothed down the skirt of her dress and stood up from the bench, her movements fluid and graceful.

"Fine," Genevieve said with a small, reassuring nod.

"We were not discussing anything serious anyway. Take your time."

She offered me one last gentle look before she turned and walked down the corridor, her footsteps fading into the distance.

Once she was gone, Torin turned his full attention back to me.

He slid over on the wooden bench, patting the space beside him.

His brown eyes were incredibly warm, radiating a steady comfort that made me want to pour my heart out.

"What is it, Liona? What’s going on?"

I didn’t sit down.

Instead, I looked down at my hands, watching my fingers twitch and tremble against each other.

To stop the shaking, I pressed my palms flat against the rough denim of my thighs, forcing my weight into my legs.

"I think I made a mistake," I whispered, the words scraping past my throat, sounding incredibly small in the vast hallway. "A pretty big one, Torin."

The easy, warm smile vanished from Torin’s face.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression turning careful and alert.

"How bad is it? Tell me what happened."

I let out a long, shaky breath, staring at a crack in the gray stone floor beneath my boots.

"I was not feeling quite good yesterday. I do not know if it was just my mood or everything else piling up inside me."

"But... I kind of lashed out at him last night. The Dragon King."

I swallowed hard, the next words feeling like lead on my tongue.

"And I kind of told him... that I had feelings for you."

Torin froze entirely.

His posture went completely rigid, his shoulders locking up.

His mouth opened slightly, his lips parting in sheer shock, before he closed it and opened it again, staring at me as if I had just spoken in a foreign language.

"Did you... Did you actually tell him that, Liona?" he asked, his voice barely audible, dropping into a stunned whisper.

I could only nod, biting the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted copper.

Torin slowly lifted both of his large hands, burying his face in his palms.

He dragged his fingers down his face, from his eyes all the way to his mouth, stretching the skin before he let his hands drop heavily back to his knees.

He exhaled a long, heavy sigh that seemed to rattle through his entire chest.

"What was the reason?" he asked softly, his eyes searching mine, searching for answers. "Why would you tell him something like that?"

"There was a woman in my room," I said quickly, the anger from the night before flaring up in my chest for a split second before dying out into shame. "When I came back to my quarters last night, she was just... lying there on my bed."

"She was half-naked. A female dragon, and she looked at me like I was dirt."

Torin winced, a small sound of sympathy slipping past his teeth.

"I got so angry," I continued, my voice cracking as I confessed the darkest part of my actions. "I was so angry that I could not think straight. My brain just stopped working, and I wanted him to feel it too."

"I wanted him to hurt the way I was hurting in that exact moment. So... I said something I should not have said. I used you to cut him."

Torin didn’t yell.

He didn’t get angry at me for putting a target on his back.

He just sat there on the bench, looking up at me for a long, quiet moment, his brown eyes filled with a deep, sorrowful softness.

"And how are you feeling right now, Liona?"

I looked away from his gaze, my eyes burning with unshed tears as I stared at the thin morning light on the wall.

"Now that I have slept and woken up... I think I completely messed everything up."

I paused, my voice dropping even lower, becoming a barely audible whisper.

"I have not seen a single glimpse of him since last night. He is not the type of person to stay away from me, Torin. You know how he is."

"He is always... clingy. Always right near me. Always watching me from across the room."

"But I have not seen him once since he walked out of my quarters."

Torin tilted his head to the side, a slow, thoughtful look crossing his features.

"It was just last night, Lee," he said carefully, his voice low and deliberate. "And you are already missing him?"

"I am not missing him!" I said sharply, my voice snapping too loud against the stone walls.

I clutched my hands into fists, my chest heaving.

"I just... I want to apologize to him. I want to make things okay between us."

Torin studied the tense line of my shoulders, his eyes tracking the frantic movement of my gaze.

"Are you entirely sure that what you are feeling right now is just a desire to make things right?" he asked softly.

"Or is it... something else?"

"No," I said, the word rushing out of my mouth far too fast, a desperate shield against the truth.

"No, no, no. I am not in love with him, okay? I just... my heart is not at peace right now."

"The fact that I intentionally hurt someone... it makes my chest ache. I just want to make it okay."

Torin didn’t push me.

He didn’t call me a liar, even though we both knew my heart was lying to itself.

He just nodded his head slowly, a gentle expression returning to his face.

"Okay," he said softly.

"Since you want to make things okay... I think you should go do it right now. Go find him, Liona. Try to make things right with your king."

He paused, and a small, teasing smile finally tugged at the corner of his lips, breaking the heavy tension between us.

"And at the same time," he added in a lighter tone, "I am going to try my best to stay as far away from him as possible, because you just put my entire life in severe danger, Lee."

A small laugh escaped my lips, a real smile finally breaking through the cloud of my worry.

"Yeah," I murmured, nodding my head. "I think I am going to go look for him now."

I turned my head, scanning the long, empty corridor.

The castle felt entirely too quiet today, almost dead.

My brows furrowed.

"But... I don’t even know where to find him. I don’t know where his private study is."

Torin looked around the hall too, sniffing the air subtly.

Then, he raised his right hand and pointed toward a dark, narrow corridor on the opposite side of the grand hall.

"I think he is over there," he said, his tone entirely confident.

I blinked in surprise, looking from the dark hallway back to him.

"How could you possibly know that?"

Torin touched the side of his nose with a finger, a genuine, boyish grin spreading across his face.

"Powerful sense of smell, remember? Comes with the werewolf territory. I can smell his scent from here."

I nodded, standing up a little straighter, a nervous flutter waking up in the pit of my stomach.

"Okay. I will see you later, Torin."

"Good luck," Torin called out warmly as I began to step away." By putting your mate back in a good mood."

I didn’t stop to correct him about the word ’mate.’

I just turned on my heel and walked rapidly down the corridor, following the direction his finger had pointed.

The building where he was turned out to be completely separate from the main body of the castle.

It was a small, ancient structure made of heavy, blackened stone, tucked away behind a courtyard of gray gravel.

Two massive dragon guards stood at the entrance, their dark armor gleaming in the thin sunlight.

The moment their eyes locked onto my approaching figure, they straightened up and bowed their heads slightly.

I didn’t know if the king had explicitly told them who I was, or if they could just feel the heavy pull of the royal mate bond radiating off my skin.

"I want to see your king," I said, my voice steady, though my heart was hammering violently against my ribs.

The guards didn’t say a single word.

They simply turned and pushed the heavy wooden doors open, stepping aside to let me pass.

I walked inside, my boots echoing loudly against the floor.

The entrance room was completely bare.

There were no chairs, no tables, no decorations of any kind.

There were only high stone walls, a vaulted ceiling that disappeared into the shadows above, and a single wooden door at the far end of the space.

As I stood there, the low, serious murmur of voices drifted through the wood.

It was the sound of men discussing something important, their tones heavy and somber.

I swallowed my nerves and followed the sound, my feet dragging slightly over the stone.

I reached the door, placed my palm against the rough wood, and pushed it open without knocking.

Eight older men were sitting around a long, polished wooden table in the center of the room.

They had gray hair, sharp, calculating eyes, and they wore long, dark robes that marked them as advisors and councilors, men who had likely been serving the throne for centuries.

And at the very head of the long table sat the Dragon King.

His elbow was resting heavily on the carved wooden arm of his chair, his large, tattooed hand supporting his jaw.

His pure white hair hung forward, casting shadows over his sharp face, and his gray eyes were fixed blindly on a map unrolled in the middle of the table.

He looked entirely exhausted, with dark circles bruising the skin beneath his eyes.

The moment the heavy door creaked open, every single voice in the room died out instantly.

Eight gray heads snapped around to look at me in absolute shock.

The Dragon King slowly lifted his gaze, his gray eyes locking onto mine.

For a long, painful moment, nobody in the room moved a single muscle.

The silence was suffocating.

Then, he straightened his spine, lowering his hand from his jaw.

When he spoke, his voice was completely calm, flat, and even, entirely devoid of the warmth he usually gave me.

"We will continue this meeting later," he said, looking at his councilors.

With that, the men stood up immediately.

One by one, they filed out of the room, their heavy robes rustling against the floorboards.

Some of them stared at me intently as they walked past, their eyes full of silent questions, but I refused to look back at them.

I kept my eyes pinned entirely on the man sitting at the end of the table.

The heavy door clicked shut behind the last advisor.

We were completely alone.

The Dragon King didn’t look at me again.

He turned his gaze back down to the map on the table, his fingers tracing the edge of the parchment idly.

"Is there something you need?" he asked, his voice flat, lacking any emotion.

I didn’t answer right away.

I just stood by the entrance, the silence stretching out between us like a vast, uncrossable chasm.

"If you need something," he murmured, still not looking up, "just tell me. I will have the palace servants bring whatever it is directly to your room."

"I have not seen you since last night," I said softly, taking a slow step toward the long table.

His jaw tightened, a small muscle twitching beneath his pale skin, but he kept his eyes glued to the map.

"I thought that was exactly what you wanted," he said, his tone completely flat, cold as ice. "I’m simply doing what you asked of me.So why is it bothering you now?"

I didn’t have an answer for him. The truth was trapped behind my teeth, too terrifying to say out loud.

I walked closer, the clicking of my boots sounding like a countdown in the quiet room.

I reached the head of the table, grabbed the back of a heavy wooden chair right next to his, and pulled it out.

I sat down, intentionally positioning myself right beside him, so close that the familiar, intoxicating heat of his body washed over my cold skin.

"So when I say I want you to stay away..." I murmured, my voice quiet as I leaned toward him, "...you actually just stay away? Just like that?"

"Yes," he said calmly, his gaze fixed on me.

I let out a short, dry laugh, a sound entirely devoid of any real humor.

I shook my head slowly, looking down at my lap.

"I see."

The king turned his head away from me entirely, staring at the dark stone wall on the far side of the room.

The silence rushed back in, heavy and suffocating.

I clutched the fabric of my dress, my chest aching at the sheer distance between us, a distance I had built with my own words.

"So..." I started, my voice dropping into a quieter, trembling register, "...if I demanded that we break the mate bond between us right now... Would you actually do it? You would just let it go?"

He went still for a long, agonizing moment. Then, he let out a slow, ragged breath, his shoulders dropping slightly.

"That depends," he said, his voice entirely flat, empty of the fire that usually defined him. "If you are truly so deeply in love with your lover... then yes. I will break it. I am not the type of person who keeps people trapped against their will."

A sudden wave of hot frustration flared up in my chest, washing away my shame.

"Seriously?" I said, my voice rising as I stared at the side of his face. "You are saying that now? You kept my best friend and me trapped here for days!"

"You kept us locked in your castle without us ever wanting to be here in the first place!"

He snapped his head around, his gray eyes finally locking onto mine with a sudden, fierce intensity that made my breath catch in my throat.

"That was entirely different," he said, his voice deep and rumbling.

"I wanted something important from your best friend. And knowing that you are my true mate... I could not just let you wander out into a dangerous world. I had to keep you safe."

He held my gaze, his gray eyes wide, swimming with a raw, painful honesty that made my heart ache.

"But since your heart belongs to someone else..." he whispered, his voice cracking just a fraction, "...if you truly want to go with him... I will let you go."

"I will not force a woman to be with me when her soul belongs to another man."

I stared at him, my mouth opening slightly as the words hit my chest like a physical blow.

"That is it?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mixture of shock and anger. "You would just let me walk away? Just like that? Without even fighting for me?"

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he stood up abruptly from his chair, his towering frame casting a massive shadow over my lap.

His face hardened into a cold, unreadable mask, his jaw locked tight.

"If there is nothing else you want to discuss," he said coldly, his voice devoid of any warmth, "I have a very important military meeting to attend to."

He doesn’t even call me princess anymore.

He turned away from me without another word and began walking toward the door at the far end of the room, his heavy boots striking the floor with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Panic, sharp and terrifying, flared up in the center of my chest, completely consuming my mind.

I scrambled out of my chair, my legs shaking as I stood up.

"If you step out of that door right now," I shouted across the empty room, my voice cracking with a sudden, desperate emotion, "you will never see me again! I swear it!"

He stopped dead in his tracks.

His large hand was already resting flat against the dark wood of the door, his fingers gripping the iron latch.

He didn’t turn around to face me.

He just stood there, completely frozen, his broad back turned entirely toward me, his white hair falling over his shoulders.

A massive, suffocating wave of pure emotion came pouring off his body, flooding the small stone room until the air felt too thick to breathe.

I could feel it crashing against my skin, a violent mix of profound sadness, biting anger, and a deep, agonizing frustration.

All of it was pressed together inside him, barely contained beneath him.

He didn’t move an inch. He didn’t utter a single sound. His hand just remained locked on the iron handle, but the heavy door stayed completely closed.