106 | imprisoned; to throw a tantrum

An excessively heavy package was swung over Lux's shoulder.

He could not forget, how he ran into the room after that little sinner summoned him, how with red-rimmed eyes and a seething cold gaze, that man pointed and said calmly, "I've accomplished my mission. This is Noah Bellamy."

And Noah Bellamy it was, lying on the bare bed, gently arranged onto his back as he remained a picture of death, eyelashes cast over his sharp cheekbones.

Lux even asked tentatively, "He's alive, isn't he?"

"It's a poison that ensures our easy travel back. He'll wake by tomorrow."

The words were a statement, calm and unperturbed. That coolness frightened Lux more; reminiscent of Kaden's doll-like state these past three years. He'd thought there was development—he'd seen it in the way Kaden's eyes delighted in catching fish, and then releasing them back soon after.

Curious and observing eyes; Lux wondered if they would have remained so had he not had the misfortune of meeting Reed.

Would Kaden have been a loving man, curious and never judging? It seemed almost unrealistic to consider, but Lux thought of Kaden's inability to despise Skye, his once reluctance to kill. The man knew that Richard Halls, alongside any of the killed without brethren had been buried.

Lux knew of the bodiless grave in the castle's gardens, a hyacinth, and a rotting flower crossed over it. The flowers had both withered, and Lux took the liberty to replace them with new ones.

He felt as if those flowers, evidence of Kaden's humanity, had to remain.

It had been awkward placing them; he arranged them the same as they had been before. He didn't enjoy indulging in sentiments. Those who died would not return, and although death was a pity, he would not grieve for strangers, no matter how tragic.

Lux felt regret, and he wondered if he was disappointed that Kaden hadn't chosen to flee, to escape the night with the dragons' kin.

But he, more than the others, could imagine the consequences.

Could Kaden ever be free of Reed; his saviour, family, and manipulator?

Kaden remained silent on the carriage back, and even silenter in the palace. Lux deposited Noah in the basement cell, his wary gaze flickering to an iron door, kept closed by several chains. Entrapping secrets and gloom, a history and a childhood never to see light.

He reported to Reed, and after a careless dismissal, returned to the cell the next day. With a certain younger prince at his side, although not the one he found endearing. Skye was ordered to bring food down to Noah by Reed's orders, and Lux happened to come down at the same time.

Noah was awake, his dark eyes boring at the red-haired prince as he descended the stairs. Seeing that it wasn't anybody he cared for, Noah leaned back and closed his eyes.

"Oh come on," smiled Lux unpleasantly. "I've ventured to this depressing place to give you company, junior."

"Junior," repeated Noah with a frown.

"I was your senior, so I do believe that makes you my junior, yes."

A metal tray of food—a loaf of bread and a small plate of meat— clattered to the dusty ground before the cell bars, shoved by the curly-haired prince who scowled.

Noah glanced at the tray calmly, and Skye glared, with brewing envy at Noah, and unfiltered dislike to Lux.

There was the dragon that could be loved so easily when Skye tried so hard to result in nothing. No matter what he destroyed, no matter how many gifts or luxuries, he could not regain that affection from his youth.

The dragon looked sideways, and from the bars of his cell and the angle at which he gazed, he could see a glimpse of the locked door. His back straightened.

Dread pooled in his stomach as he hoarsely wondered, "Whose room is that?"

Guilt flickered briefly in Skye's bright blue gaze. Not the guilt of somebody recalling a past crime, but of a bystander vaguely thinking of something they'd seen—seen and did nothing about.

There was only one person that a person like Skye Chauvet might be guilty about, Noah knew.

The younger man stormed up the stairs, disappearing as Lux watched with amusement. He turned, crouching in from of the cell as he observed Noah quietly.

"If you discovered who that room belonged to, would you set this palace ablaze, I wonder?"

Noah stared back, unflinching. "I would."

Lux laughed, a short sound. "I like your honesty, dragon boy. Much unlike that foolish puppy who sulks upstairs." Then, he stood, waving. "But I won't tell you. I'm quite fond of that plank of wood I sleep on."

He knew, that the dragon wouldn't have gotten captured easily. There was likely a reason Noah agreed to Kaden's whims—whether it was foolish love or an ulterior motive, Lux didn't know.

However, he felt quite certain, that this dragon who was so talented at restraining himself, wouldn't act out of turn.

Therefore, it wasn't necessary for Lux to tell Noah of the room's owner. It was something he would find out soon enough anyway, most likely.

Predictably, the next evening, a solemn-faced guard brought water and food to Noah, who leaned against the wall with a leg propped up. His dark eyes lifted, and the guard tensed.

The dragon's lips parted, and the guard turned on his heels to leave.

However, before he could reach the stairs, a chilling voice wondered, "Whose room is that? The locked room beside me."

Noah's voice was strangely quiet, yet loud in the entrapped space. It seemed to leech the air, leaving anybody standing near breathless. Softly, he demanded, "Tell me."

A mixture of deep, intrinsic fear and confusion spun the guard's thoughts, commanding obedience.

The feeling of something inferior being ordered by a much greater being; disobey and suffer the consequences of it. A regular human wouldn't dare.

"That..." The guard frowned, his thick eyebrows knitting. "Was the punishment room for the royal family's dog."

The air seemed to drop a few degrees, a biting chill layering across.

"What does the inside of the room look like?"

"Nobody knows, save for the man himself." The guard shuddered, quickly reaching for the door. "Regardless, that is no business of yours, prisoner!"

A slam echoed in the space as the guard hurriedly fled, leaving Noah's sharp stare boring a hole into the door.

The solidarity of a dark cell gave room to allow for deeper thinking, in a gloomy environment where his only company was his thoughts. Although Noah had always been isolated, locked in that room Niklas provided, outside of his forced routine that he repeated to feel somewhat human

That in itself was the mistake; Noah Bellamy was not human, and no matter how he clung to his skin or despised the rolling destruction in his blood, it could not change that fact.

Kaden, warm and vocal that quiet evening, was undeniably human. Yet he chose to live a life as if he weren't—as if he were a beast fated to die for his sins.

Even though his skin flushed a dark red hue, tender under Noah's scaled hands. Even though he would flinch at a slight touch, unaccustomed to intimacy. How his eyes sheened with unshed tears, forced to surface by Noah's relentless ministrations.

Noah wondered, silently resting his head on the cold wall of his cell, if he'd been attracted to that humaneness of Kaden, or curious why he denied that quality so fervently.

Had he been attracted to their similarities in denying themselves; a beast playing human, and a human playing beast?

Fascinated by the play Kaden performed, until the story he watched became reality, and he'd become a character in Kaden's play? Unknowingly, until he could no longer flee.

He wondered and wondered as day turned into night and then into day again—although he only guessed the time by the food regularly brought to him.

Eventually, irritation flickered in Noah's chest. It'd been days, perhaps a week, and a certain fool had yet to visit him.

Even though it'd been Kaden who dragged him here.

The dragon roamed around his cell, annoyance brewing. He felt like sulking; bored and deprived of Kaden's presence.

Therefore, as any mature and reasonable adult, Noah decided to throw a tantrum.

The dragon refused to eat.

On the third day of his tantrum, the door opened with a scowling prince at the entrance, slowly descending the stairs. Noah looked over indifferently, his eyebrows knitting.

Wrong prince, he wanted to tell him. He watched as Reed stared at him coldly, dropping a tray onto the ground. It clattered loudly, echoing in the small space as chunks of meat scattered out of a small plate.

"Even noble dragons know how to throw tantrums?" sneered the crown prince with disdain.

Noah stared back through a slitted gaze. "Is my status as a prisoner so low that I can only be greeted by a prince?"

"If you're seeking authority, that's me." Reed turned. "My father is no longer capable of making orders or commands." A sneer crossed his thin lips. "Although he makes a worthy attempt, with the little life he has left."

"Did he make them when you were younger? To you, and to Kaden?"

Reed regarded him quietly, head half-turned back. "There are things that are of no business to you. Careful what you ask, son of dragons."

Noah revealed no fear at the hidden threat, calmly gazing back. "Then what about the room beside me? Did it belong to Kaden Chauvet?"

In three strides, the prince walked over and firmly yanked the dragon's arm through the cage, plunging a sharp and delicate needle into his arm. Blood soon filled a small cavity made of unknown material.

Noah jerked, slamming as the chains around his wrists rattled, but Reed held firm. "Behave, dragon. Then eat your meal obediently. And I'll send you company if it's loneliness that prevents you from staying alive."

Noah slammed his body against the cell, chains clattering against each other as Reed calmly walked up the stairs.

He slipped the extracted blood into his pocket, smoothening the wrinkles on his clothes. Sharp-heeled boots loudly clicked against the ground, a sound that rebounded off the small space.

"What're you researching, Reed Chauvet?" called out Noah, gritting his teeth at a lack of response.

There was that similar trait; a shared secretiveness and mystery to these brothers, an unwillingness to share their thoughts, hiding behind layers and layers of locked walls.

But the difference in Kaden and Reed was plain; both gazes were cold, but one was an act and the other a trait.

And regardless, Noah had no interest in analyzing Reed.

Soon after, the door swung open again and Noah's shoulders sagged, a calmness permeating his bones. He waited as a sullen, frowning man came to stand before his cell.

"I thought you'd visit sooner," remarked Noah, black eyes fixated on the standing man.

Kaden's eyes darted sideways and he seemed to keep a steady distance from the locked door, whether consciously or subconsciously.

"I didn't think it to be necessary."

"It's a lack of manners to abandon your guest."

Kaden's lips twitched at the statement, spoken matter-of-factually and almost accusing. "Apologies, dear Bellamy, that wasn't in the books you recommended me."

"You read them." It was a statement.

Kaden looked down, and the curve of the dragon's lips lifted slightly.

"Including the Differences Between Curtsying and Bowing?"

"...I really don't know why that book exists," said Kaden in response with a frown. "It's manners to erase embarrassing moments from your memory, don't you know, dragon dearest?"

Noah huffed, leaning his head back against the wall. "Then were you embarrassed by knowing me?"

"What?"

"Is that why you don't remember me?"

The cold black gaze fixed onto Kaden, narrowed and sharp and knowing. Knowing of the lies Kaden told, deconstructing all his acts and theatrics.

Then, the dragon proudly proclaimed, "I'm bored."

Kaden's paused. "And what exactly would you like me to do about that? You're a prisoner, if you weren't aware."

"You invited me here, and I came. By definition, that makes me a guest," replied the dragon coolly.

"A guest."

"And as the invitee, I expect entertainment."

"Demanding, aren't you?"

"It's in my nature."

Kaden stared at Noah who kept spouting nonsense with that indifferent, stern face, and felt speechless.

Then, Noah walked to the corner of his cage, setting up his own dwelling in the darkness. He said calmly, "If you aren't here to entertain me, then leave. What does it matter to you if a stranger isn't eating?"

Kaden frowned, slightly irritated. "I don't have a hobby of starving prisoners. Nor does my darling brother, believe it or not. You're more valuable alive, so eat."

"Ironic," mused the dragon quietly, cocking his head as he blinked. "When was the last time you ate?"

Kaden looked away again, and annoyance bubbled in Noah's chest. The two men stared at each other, both frustrated in their own rights, about the little things, and the looming three years of separation.

Kaden wanted to scream, a maddening scream that tore through his delusions. He wanted to tell that irritating dragon, to one, eat, and two, to sit still and stop being ridiculous, because Kaden would handle everything in the end.

No harm would have to befall Noah, why didn't that dragon understand that? Why did he follow along, without resistance?

Of all the sins he could commit, why did he commit the crime of loving Kaden? Kaden, who was so undeserving of the undying affection.

Gazing back with fierce, black eyes, Noah felt irritation scald in his throat, threatening to spill.

Why couldn't that fool understand that he was loved—why did he harm his body and fail to take care of himself, over and over again? Why did he abandon them, three years ago, three years that felt like decades?

They'd thought he was dead.

Nobody wanted to believe it, but they'd seen it, the crowd had seen it, and even with their doubts, the lingering knowing that Kaden Chauvet was dead remained in their heads.

Did that fool think his death—fake or not—have no effect? That they would perhaps grieve and move on with their supposedly respectable, wonderful futures destined for them?

Then Kaden made the mistake of returning when he should've continued playing dead if that was his wish.

He should never have bared his most vulnerable, exposed self to the dragon—greedy and possessive as Noah was, despite Kaden's reluctance to believe it.

Kaden scowled, searching for words or thoughts in Noah's dark eyes, and finding none that he could decipher. Only a maddening hunger, a need, a desperation.

He stepped back. "Eat, Bellamy. I'll bring your next meal later." He turned on his heels and felt like he was fleeing.

Noah called after him, voice low and dark. "I'll eat if you eat with me. That's my only compromise."

"You don't get to make demands."

"And unless you intend to shove the food down my throat, you don't either, Chauvet."

"Don't tempt me, dragon."

Noah rattled his chains lightly as if daring. His hands opened, spread wide and beckoning, and Kaden remembered the firmness of their touch, how they wrapped around his skin and refused to let go.

His eyebrows knitted in protest and unwillingness, seeming to debate ways to convince Noah otherwise. But the dragon leaned back calmly, relaxed in the enclosed cell.

Almost gently, he told Kaden, "If it takes my starved corpse for you to care for yourself, then so be it."

Kaden scoffed. "I won't play to your threats. You'll eat, or you'll die."

Noah tilted his chin leisurely as if he weren't a prisoner, and all the cards were held tightly in his hand. "Then go ahead, make a gamble with my life and see." He smiled, that small, mocking and cruel smile. "Will you kill me, Chauvet?"

Kaden gritted his teeth and slammed the door behind him.