Chapter 67: _ The Tiger Prince vs. The Dragon Prince

It was Prince Remus Drakaryn himself.

I raised an eyebrow and my mouth twisted into a smirk. Remus was the poster boy of Dragon Academy nobility. He never set foot in the central dining complex, preferring his private, high-tier dining with his questionable sisters.

So seeing him stride in on a Moon day morning meant one thing: he hadn’t come for the roasted meats.

He was here for a reason.

And a very specific reason at that, I thought, my eyes narrowing. My sources had confirmed that Remus and Ivar had been seen exchanging heated words near the Sunken Arch on the exact evening of Elira’s attack.

Ivar had refused to give me a single detail about that encounter, pretending like he and Remus never met, but now, looking at the tension radiating off Remus’s shoulders, I realized I didn’t need Ivar to talk. I could milk the Dragon Prince for answers instead.

Trailing two paces behind Remus were his twin sisters, looking thoroughly annoyed.

Veyra was loudly complaining to no one in particular about having her morning schedule ruined. I knew Veyra all too well—she’d trailed around after Ivar and me all last session, mostly because Ivar wanted to prove a point and successfully coaxed her into his bed after three weeks of relentless flirting.

Her twin, Vaela, was a completely different brand of exhausting. Quiet, icy, and wrapped up in her own high-born superiority, Vaela looked at everyone below her lineage as if they were mud on her boots.

It seemed to me that every single member of the Drakaryn family was born with an unbearable personality.

"Look at him. The fire-reptile walks like he owns the dirt. Can I bite his shins? Just a little bite." Rykos, who hated him just as much as I did, growled.

Quiet, cat, I replied internally. Let me handle this.

I watched Remus closely as he crossed the threshold and what baffled me the most was not his presence at the Great Hall, but how fixated his gaze was on Elira.

When his eyes finally shifted to me, they burned with unchecked anger.

I didn’t hesitate. I stepped sideways, subtly placing my broader frame between Remus and Elira, blocking his line of sight while keeping my hand locked around hers.

The sight of two royal heirs standing face-to-face in the middle of a crowded dining complex instantly sent the Great Hall into absolute frenzy.

Near the back walls, a table of fourth-year Dragon initiates—senior elite shifters who were technically our seniors in academic standing and loved nothing more than royal drama—started pounding their wooden tankards against the long tables.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

"ROYAL FACE-OFF!" a fourth-year yelled, slamming his fist onto the tabletop. "TIGER VS. DRAGON AT BREAKFAST! TEN COINS ON THE STRIPES!"

"FIFTY ON THE FIRE! BLOOD IN THE HALL! BLOOD IN THE HALL!" Another roared, jumping onto a bench and stomping his boots in rhythm with the chanting crowd.

The energy in the room went from quiet curiosity to an arena execution within five seconds. Commoners scrambled out of the central aisle to avoid getting caught in any potential spell-blast radius, while upperclassmen cheered and placed hasty wagers across the tables.

Beside me, I felt Elira go completely rigid.

Her fingers trembled inside my grip as Remus drew nearer. I glanced down at her sideways.

Is she terrified of royal titles in general, or is it Remus specifically that makes her freeze like a frightened deer?

There was something deeply unnatural about her reaction to him that went beyond high-born intimidation.

Remus came to a dead stop three paces away. "Zevaranthius. What the hell are you doing here?"

To hell with that boar for using my full name. Now, Elira knows it too. I could gnash my teeth into those eyes of his that were radiating his apex aura in waves, but that’d mean a simple pus like him was getting to me.

So, I offered him my most irritatingly handsome, unbothered smile, leaning casually against my heels. "I could ask you the same question, Dragon Prince. What the hell is a high-and-mighty heir doing in the common dining hall at breakfast hour? Did your personal chef burn your pastries?"

Remus’s eyes flicked to Elira and his jaw clenched so hard, a muscle twitched near his temple. "You’re a Tiger Prince barging into the Dragon Quadrant on an instruction morning. Your presence here is a distraction. You’re keeping my initiates from eating and getting to their lectures."

Oh, wow. The hypocrite was playing the dutiful student now, wasn’t he?

I let out a mocking laugh. "That sounds like a massive initiate problem and a severe issue with misplaced priorities, doesn’t it? Not really my fault if your students find me more interesting than their morning porridge."

Remus’s eyes flashed red. He took an aggressive stride forward, reaching out with a leather-gloved hand to snatch Elira by her arm.

I beat him to it.

In one swift motion, I stepped into his space, my left arm sweeping across to shove his reaching hand away while my right arm pulled Elira safely behind my back.

"Careful where you put those claws, Remus," I purred and dropped the playful edge in my voice as my tiger aura surged outward to smash against his heat wave. "When did you stop being an initiate and turn into an unpaid distraction warden?"

The Great Hall went wild.

"OOHHH!" the fourth-years screamed in unison, banging their wooden plates together. "HE CALLED HIM AN UNPAID WARDEN! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

"I’ll give five-to-one odds on Prince Zev! Did you see how he blocked him?! He’s so fast!" A female second-year squealed from the side tables, frantically pulling out a coin pouch.

While Vaela stood behind her brother with her arms crossed and a disgust so profound on her face it looked painful, Veyra suddenly pushed past Remus’s shoulder, stepping into the narrow space between us.

"Oh, stop it, both of you," she scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. She turned her back on her brother and offered me a bright, flirtatious smile. "Hi, Zev! You look infuriatingly gorgeous this morning. Quick question, why is your little wolf friend avoiding me? Ivar hasn’t answered a single one of my scrying scrolls since the Gala."

Even in the midst of brewing tension, all she could think of was Ivar. Her dangerous obsession with him was going to make me sick someday. After an entire session of enduring her nonsense, she was back to it yet again.

Remus grabbed her shoulder and violently shoved her back behind him. "Get back, Veyra! Don’t involve yourself with stray dogs and alley cats like Ivar and Zevaranthius!"

My blood ran hot in a split second.

"What did you just call us?" I asked, stepping closer until our noses were almost touching.

"You heard me," Remus snarled, his eyes burning with absolute hatred as he reached around me again, aiming straight for Elira. "This markless girl is involved in an active Dragon Academy security matter. She comes with me."

"She isn’t going anywhere with you!" I snapped, grabbing his wrist in mid-air, locking our arms in a battle of physical strength.

Elira gasped, caught in the middle of our tug-of-war. "Prince Zev—Prince Remus—stop it! Please!"

Her two friends were frozen in stupefaction. Miriel was hyperventilating, while Bren had her hands clasped over her mouth, her eyes wide as saucers as the two most powerful princes in the realm squared off over a dragonless initiate.

"Let go of her, Tiger," Remus growled, his hand tightening on Elira’s other shoulder.

"You make me," I snarled back.

Suddenly, Vaela marched forward, ignoring me and Remus. She lifted her hand and delivered a brutal, resounding SLAP directly across Elira’s face.

CRACK!