The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 182: How don’t you fall off a dragon?

Chapter 182: How don’t you fall off a dragon?

The King stood beside Sunkiath. Towering and broad-shouldered, he was a giant of a man, yet next to the dragon, he seemed almost fragile, like a shadow cast by something far greater.

There was a strange, magnetic pull, soft, invisible, that tugged Gloria closer to the beast. It wasn’t conscious, this movement was more like a calling that echoed in her bones.

To everyone’s astonishment, Sunkiath didn’t growl or expose his fangs. He didn’t recoil or snarl like he usually did with strangers. Instead, the dragon remained still, watchful, curious, and eerily calm.

"Be careful, Arkilla," the Luna Queen warned, her voice low so as not to cause tension. "He might not harm Gloria or me, but he doesn’t know you."

Arkilla’s spine stiffened as a chill licked down her back. Fear crept in like a cold mist curling under a door. She didn’t want to become a drifting plume of ash, not because of one misstep, a misstep a moody dragon might decide was unforgivable.

"In the book of dragon tales my mother used to read to me," Gloria said softly as she stepped closer, "it was written: ’A dragon will kill you if you don’t meet its eyes.’"

"That’s true. Dragons don’t tolerate cowardice," Ren said, her tone edged with experience. "If you don’t meet their gaze, they’ll see it as an insult. But Griffins? They’re the opposite. You must lower your head, if you lock eyes with one, it’ll tear your eyes from their sockets. If they like you, they’ll hunt for you as an offering but dragons don’t bother. They’ll eat you if they are hungry and like your scent."

"Oh, gods! Good to know," Arkilla muttered with wide eyes. "At least now I can be thankful Ogain is the only Griffin that didn’t do that to me."

She lingered by a jagged rock, not daring to step closer. "I’ll stay here. Honestly, I doubt anyone would risk harming any of you with that beast standing guard."

A sheepish smile crept onto her face as the girls glanced back at her.

"Go, go!" she urged, shooing them gently.

As they approached, Gloria paused, nostrils flaring slightly. She tilted her head and sniffed the air. "What is that scent? It gets stronger the closer I am to Sunkiath!"

The King turned toward her, clearly impressed. Her attentiveness wasn’t just instinct, it was the first trait of a true dragon rider: the awareness to protect the dragon and anticipate danger.

"That’s sulfur," he explained. "If you catch its scent in the sky, it means another dragon is approaching. You must clear the path, especially if the dragon is larger. A collision in the air could mean death."

"Wow," Gloria whispered. "But sulfur is toxic, right? Breathing it in can shorten our lives, or worse, poison us."

Ren smiled, visibly pleased. Gloria’s awareness wasn’t just impressive, it was rare and precious. She learned it from her farmer father.

"Yes," she said, "and that’s exactly why the King’s personal alchemist prepares this."

She pulled two slender vials from her pocket. The liquid inside shimmered a soft, translucent blue, like moonlight caught in a bottle.

"You’ll need to take this every twenty-six hours to keep your body protected, it reduces toxins," Ren explained, holding the vial between two fingers. "Your bond with the dragon will help bolster your strength, yes, but I strongly advise against using that bond to fight off poisoning. If your dragon becomes distracted, even for a moment... in the sky, distraction means death."

She didn’t speak from lived experience, but the lessons burned into memory during her time in Dreamland. And the potion? Its recipe was older still, passed down from her mother, taught directly to the King of Alvonia himself, according to what her husband said.

King Benkin stepped back a few paces and gestured with an open hand. "Come closer. Touch him," he encouraged.

Gloria didn’t hesitate. Her eagerness lit her face, leaving no room for doubt or fear. She raised her hand slowly, reverently.

Sunkiath lowered his massive head toward her. His molten eyes locked onto hers as his voice rumbled through the air, gravelly, ancient, and impossibly deep.

"Gloria D’Orient. I can smell your blood."

A shiver passed through her as the words echoed in her bones. Her shoulders stiffened, her eyes grew wide.

"He can talk!" she breathed.

"He can," the King replied, just as stunned as Ren. "But not everyone can hear a dragon before bonding."

Ren turned sharply toward the great beast, her eyes narrowing in astonishment. "Sunkiath, how is this possible? How can she hear you?"

Ren had been born with a rare gift, the ability to hear and speak with beasts to tame them. It was part of her blood, part of her soul. But Gloria? She hadn’t even bonded with Sunkiath yet. How could she already understand the voice of a dragon?

"I believe the answer lies in what your mother did to save you all," Sunkiath rumbled.

Ren’s eyes flicked toward the King, her expression tightening. "What happened the night we were born?"

The King’s brow furrowed, shadows clouding his face. "Your mother... she used all her power. Everything she had. She gave it to save you."

Gloria’s hand rested on Sunkiath’s dark golden scales, rough and warm beneath her fingers. An invisible force pulsed from him, an aura so intense, it hummed through her skin and sank into her bones.

"Were our mothers in the same room?" Gloria asked quietly, her gaze shifting toward the King.

"Yes," he replied, his voice distant, as though reaching back into a memory wrapped in smoke. "The room... it erupted in light, a blinding burst that lasted only a moment. But after that... Everything went dark. For me, the world changed."

Ren drew in a breath. "Then that might explain it. Maybe she felt something neither of you could. She was a beast tamer, one of rare power. It’s possible that someone with her gifts touched Gloria’s blood... and the immortal weapon’s power awakened this gift."

She turned back to Arkilla, who now leaned against the stone, silent and intent, absorbing every word like a sponge, eyes wide, mind racing. Her little Gloria indeed had a hidden magic.

"Your Highness," Gloria asked, eyes squinting toward the saddle, "how do you endure the air pressure? How do you not fall off?"

The King chuckled, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Once you bond with a dragon, he shares his stamina with you. That link keeps you secure, no matter your weight. But..."

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