Meanwhile, just as silent guardians surrounded one golden dragon who was desperate for answers, one aide was in the middle of something that felt like an inferno.

Amidst the bid to figure out why the once-prominent sigil had turned into fading lines that pulsed weakly across pale skin, Riley, on the other hand, felt trapped in a place that was neither here nor there.

Was it limbo?

The blackness around him continued to shatter, cracks splitting and spreading while his body felt as though it was being yanked in different directions at once. The stillness was gone, replaced with a searing agony that drowned out everything else.

People always said that before death you remembered important things. Faces, names, moments. But no one ever mentioned that pain left no room for memory. It consumed thought. And maybe that was why no such accounts existed. Whoever had lived through this much pain never made it back to speak of it.

He couldn’t even struggle. His body was shackled everywhere. His mouth wouldn’t move. His pleas stayed locked inside.

But outside was a different story.

Kael let Riley claw at him.

He let the twig’s hands rake across his arms, his hands flexing to hold them without resistance. He even forced himself to relax, remembering what Riley had once told him—that his body reacted to anything it deemed an attack, hardening on impact and practically repelling what was about to come.

Kael could not let Riley shred his own fingers trying to break against dragon skin. Not when those bones were fragile.

His jaw tightened. "Thyrran, he’s getting worse. Is there nothing similar to this at any point in time?"

His voice rang sharp through the archive. He was seething. These beings had existed since before he could fathom time itself. How could Riley’s case be so unique that he was setting a precedent?

Then, out of nowhere, a word slid into his mind.

’Blood.’

Kael stilled. The voice was not spoken aloud. It hissed inside his skull, clear and foreign, the unmistakable will of a guardian.

Golden eyes narrowed. He had heard it was possible for guardians to share thoughts, but they rarely wasted words. Normally, they forced the seeker to dig through archives, to unearth answers themselves. For Thyrran to give him even a single word had been almost unthinkable.

Kael’s teeth ground together. "What blood? Whose blood?"

Nothing but silence answered him.

His claws flexed as Riley’s body twisted under his grip. He was losing patience. He hated riddles. Hated things that did not make sense. Yet for once, he forced himself to temper the sharpness of his tone and pry the meaning out piece by piece.

"You mean he needs blood." His eyes flicked to Thyrran’s massive form. "Is that it?"

The serpent shifted, coils rasping against stone. Its head dipped once in silent affirmation.

Kael’s gaze hardened. "Whose blood does he need?"

The serpent hissed, the sound crawling through the chamber before striking his mind again.

’Yours.’

For a heartbeat, Kael almost laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Mine?" He leaned forward, voice like iron. "You are saying Riley must be given my blood?"

His voice thundered against the marble walls, his disbelief vibrating in every word.

"That is impossible. The last time he had a drop of it, he suffered. His body reacted violently. And that was only a taste."

This time, the voice hissed with certainty.

’Exactly.’

Kael’s eyes narrowed into slits. Heat pressed against his skin as fury surged. Was this guardian mocking him? Testing his patience while trying to kill Riley in the process?

Before his anger could break, another sharp whisper cut through his mind.

’Not enough.’

Kael froze. His hands, which had been gripping Riley’s wrists to steady his frantic movements, tightened. His gaze snapped to the serpent.

"Not enough?" His voice rumbled low, dangerous. "You are saying he is like this because what little blood he had was not enough?"

Riley’s nails scraped across Kael’s chest, his body writhing, fevered. Kael forced Riley’s hands to settle down, his own expression twisted in something even he could not read.

"Do you think he is some creature of the night?" Kael growled. "A lamia? A beast that lives on blood?" His voice cut sharp through the chamber. "But he is human. Would he even survive it?"

The guardians’ eyes turned toward him in unison.

Silent. Steady. Piercing.

They looked at him as if he were the one lying.

Kael had faced kings, armies, and beasts born of nightmares, yet in that moment, under their gaze, he had never been more confused in his life.

But Kael’s confusion couldn’t be addressed because Riley’s body arched again.

It looked violent; his veins strained along his neck as though he was suffocating. His lips parted soundlessly, his chest heaving against an invisible weight.

Kael’s claws clenched around the twig’s shoulders. His voice cracked through the chamber, harsh and furious.

"You’re telling me to give him my blood now?! How much?!"

The demand rang like thunder against marble, but the only answer that came from Thyrran was a horrid response, seemingly meant to anger every cell in his body.

’You’ll know.’

The words slithered across Kael’s mind like venom.

Kael’s entire body tensed, his eyes narrowing into lethal slits. If he did not find out—if this somehow failed—then they had better prepare never to see the sunrise again. His wrath would burn through them all, one way or the other.

But he had no concrete options left.

Snarling, Kael Dravaryn steeled his heart. If this ended badly, he would bear the responsibility. The twig, who had only ever begged to stop working, should be free to curse him for several lifetimes.

The dragon lord lowered his head, determination carved into every line of his face.

And then, with deliberate intent, he bit into the inside of his cheek. The copper tang of blood filled his mouth instantly, hot and thick.

He leaned down.

The guardians—solemn, timeless beings who had expected a ritual circle or an invocation—tilted their heads as Kael pressed his lips to Riley’s. Their unblinking eyes widened fractionally as the dragon lord forced the blood between them in the most direct way possible.

Riley’s throat worked, reflex forcing him to swallow even as his unconscious body trembled. Kael didn’t pull away, didn’t allow him to waste a single drop.

The chamber stilled, the guardians looming in silence, their massive forms coiled and watching.

What was this?

Surely not a ritual. Surely not a rite. Yet, blood was blood. However it was delivered, it did not matter.

Provided enough was given.

After all, to the guardians, they figured that with how tedious it was to free him, the dragon lord would likely remain in the archives for a while.