Chapter 142: Serpents, Secrets, And Shifting Sides

The elevator descended in silence as Cyrus’s mind raced through the web of connections that had been forming around them.

The timing of everything was too perfect.

The trafficking ring Kane had stumbled into, the break-in at his apartment targeting the Whispering Shard, Rina’s exposure to the synthetic binding agent—all of it designed to draw them deeper into Elias’s trap.

Madam Xiu’s cryptic riddle about the healing shard, delivered with theatrical mystique.

How convenient that she’d known exactly what they needed to hear and pointed them toward where the mercy fragment might be found.

Bob Holloway’s bumbling charm, arriving with precisely the right documents at precisely the right moment.

The scared son rebelling against his father’s criminal empire—but last night’s performance at the pier had revealed the truth beneath that facade.

Even the water dragon’s attack served a purpose beyond testing Cyrus’s abilities.

It had been a declaration, a message that Elias could create artificial spirits powerful enough to challenge an ancient dragon.

The elevator reached the garage, and Cyrus strode toward his Lamborghini, keys materializing in his palm with a flicker of crimson energy.

One question remained that chilled him more than the others: Mochi.

The cat spirit’s enthusiastic cooperation, his network of underground contacts, his convenient knowledge of Whisper and the fragment trade.

Had their supposedly reliable informant been feeding them orchestrated intelligence from the beginning?

Cyrus’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as the engine roared to life.

If Mochi was compromised, then Kane had walked into every meeting, every exchange of information, completely exposed.

The wolf’s reach was deeper than he’d feared.

Cyrus needed someone he could trust, someone outside Elias’s web of influence.

Isabelle’s name surfaced first—her loyalty was absolute, her tactical mind sharp enough to see through deception.

But she was anchored at Veyr Corp, maintaining Rina’s fragile stability while managing the corporation’s daily operations.

Pulling her away would leave both fronts vulnerable.

His mind wandered to an unlikely option: Ginsei.

The serpent spirit had been trailing them for days, suspicious and calculating, driven by his own agenda.

Cyrus didn’t trust him—wouldn’t trust him—but that very independence might be useful now.

Ginsei’s paranoia about Kane’s investigation meant he’d been watching from the shadows, possibly seeing patterns that others had missed.

More importantly, Ginsei was Bureau-trained, equipped with resources Cyrus couldn’t access without revealing his hand.

The Lamborghini’s engine growled as Cyrus changed direction, heading toward the BSA headquarters.

Cyrus’s jaw clenched as downtown Feilun’s towers came into view.

He needed eyes and ears that Elias hadn’t anticipated.

Even if it meant making an alliance with a serpent.

The BSA headquarters buzzed with its usual morning chaos as Cyrus stepped through the automatic doors, but the familiar hum of conversation died the moment agents caught sight of him.

Recognition flickered across dozens of faces—some wary, others curious, all carefully respectful of the dragon who’d made headlines with his breakfast delivery just yesterday.

The receptionist looked up from her computer, her expression brightening with professional courtesy tinged with confusion.

"Mr. Drakhal! Good morning." She glanced toward the elevators, then back to him.

"If you’re looking for Agent Ashwood, he’s not in today—"

"I’m aware." Cyrus’s voice carried its usual controlled authority, sending subtle ripples of unease through nearby agents.

"I’m here for Agent Ginsei."

The receptionist’s fingers hovered over her keyboard, clearly uncertain about protocol for a civilian requesting access to BSA personnel.

"Agent Ginsei is..." She consulted her screen. "Currently in the building. May I ask what this concerns?"

"Professional consultation." Cyrus’s crimson eyes swept the lobby, noting how conversations had quieted and how spirits unconsciously shifted away from his presence.

"Tell him Cyrus Drakhal requires his expertise on a matter of mutual interest."

The weight of his dragon aura pressed against the lobby’s supernatural occupants—not threatening, but impossible to ignore.

"I’ll... contact him immediately, sir."

Ginsei’s phone buzzed against his desk as he reviewed case files in the BSA’s Investigations wing.

The serpent spirit glanced at the caller ID—Reception—and answered with his usual crisp efficiency.

"Agent Ginsei? There’s a Cyrus Drakhal in the lobby requesting to speak with you."

Ginsei’s pale green hair shifted as he straightened in his chair, ice-blue eyes narrowing.

Cyrus Veyr Drakhal. Here. Asking for him specifically.

The last dragon spirit, CEO of Veyr Corp, and Kane’s... whatever Kane was to him.

The same dragon who had glared at him with barely contained hostility in that alley just last night and had clearly wanted Ginsei to stay away from their investigation.

"Did he say what kind of consultation?"

"No sir, just that it was professional and involved mutual interest."

Ginsei’s mind raced through possibilities.

Kane was conspicuously absent today—he’d noticed that immediately upon arriving this morning.

If Cyrus was here alone, seeking him out after their tense encounter, something significant had shifted.

"Tell him I’ll be down in two minutes."

Ginsei ended the call and stood, smoothing his Bureau jacket.

Whatever this was, the dragon wouldn’t have come here unless he was desperate.

Ginsei rushed to the lobby, cutting through the crowd of agents who parted instinctively before him.

The dragon stood near the reception desk like a dark tower, his usual immaculate composure intact, but something flickered beneath the surface—tension coiled tight as a spring.

"Mr. Drakhal." Ginsei approached with careful neutrality. "This is unexpected."

Cyrus turned, crimson eyes meeting ice-blue without preamble.

"Something’s wrong."

"What kind of wrong?" Ginsei’s voice remained steady despite the chill that ran down his spine. The last dragon didn’t seek help lightly.

"Nothing I can explain here." Cyrus’s gaze swept the lobby’s curious onlookers. "I need your assistance. Come with me."

Ginsei hesitated, pale green hair shifting as he weighed his options. Every survival instinct screamed warnings about following an apex predator into unknown territory.

Dragons were notorious for their tempers, their possessiveness, and their tendency to eliminate perceived threats.

But desperation had its own scent, and beneath Cyrus’s controlled exterior, Ginsei caught traces of something that might have been fear.

"Lead the way."

The Lamborghini’s engine purred in the BSA parking structure as Ginsei approached the passenger door.

"Backseat."

Ginsei paused, hand on the door handle. "Excuse me?"

"That seat is only for Kane." Cyrus’s tone brooked no argument, crimson energy flickering faintly around his fingers.

Ginsei slid into the backseat without further protest, noting how the dragon’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

"So, where exactly are we heading?"