Chapter 28
Loud shouting echoed across the quiet, deserted white beach.
“Hey! You crazy bastard!”
It was the kind of roar that would make any normal person collapse in fear. A terrifying roar like a tiger.
Rodus McQueen, the one with the “strong jaw,” had just aimed his bow at Hasollan again when a huge tiger barreled toward him.
“Aaagh! Get out of the way!”
One of the Soruk warriors, who still had some sense left, threw his companions aside. In an instant, Rodus McQueen himself turned into a tiger and tackled his younger brother, Tyrell, rolling in the sand.
The tiger fight came dangerously close—close enough for sand to hit Hasollan. She didn’t want to get dragged into the mess, but she could barely move her legs. Around her, knights were scattered like broken dolls. Princess Deny was also lying nearby.
“ROOOAARRRR!”
The deafening roar froze almost everyone. Tyrell McQueen stood between his raging older brother and Hasollan, who was shielding Princess Deny. He stared at Rodus, fury boiling inside.
“You lunatic! Do you want to ruin the whole country?!”
“What the hell? Move!”
Tyrell was on the verge of losing his mind. How do I even fix this mess? Did Rodus just try to attack the woman of the Black Dragon? All to take credit and seize the throne?
Rodus shoved Tyrell aside and lunged at Hasollan.
“Who kills her first is what matters!”
He thought Tyrell was trying to steal his prize. Hasollan braced herself for the worst as sharp claws slashed toward her. She hugged Princess Deny tightly and ducked low, ready to be torn apart.
“Aaaaah!”
This time, it was her scream. A burning pain ripped through her right side.
Tyrell had barely managed to block the blow. Rodus’s paw grazed Hasollan, but it was enough to draw blood. Tyrell punched his brother in the face.
Hasollan clutched her wound, trying to stay conscious even as the sand sprayed over her.
It’s not too deep no, it hurts maybe it would’ve been better to just die quickly… no, even if I die, what’s the point?
Akellans would just rewind time again. Her thoughts swirled in pain.
A scream snapped her back.
What now?
One tiger had bitten the other’s neck. The bitten one trembled, then went limp. The victor spat out the body.
Then, in a flash, the winning tiger turned into a man—a face she knew.
“Stay with me.”
He reached out.
“Please stay conscious.”
Speaking in rough Lufellian, he cursed in Soruk tongue.
“Damn it. Damn that bastard brother! I should’ve killed him sooner!”
A war might break out at this rate.
“Let’s negotiate,” Tyrell said, checking Hasollan’s wound and pressing on it hard.
“You idiots! Are you trying to destroy the country? You don’t just touch a dragon’s mate!”
Tyrell turned and screamed at his stunned men.
“Damn it! I followed you here exactly because I expected this!”
You never mess with a dragon. Tyrell’s hands were shaking, sweat dripping down his face.
“Boris!”
He called for his most trusted aide. Boris, who had followed Tyrell loyally and now looked pale with horror, ran over and quickly took out bandages and painkillers.
“Chew this.”
Hasollan recognized the herb immediately and shoved it into her mouth. She held Princess Deny tightly as she chewed, trying to numb the pain.
“You said you wanted to negotiate, right…?”
She looked at Tyrell with cold, sharp eyes. He nodded.
“If I don’t, the country’s doomed.”
“Even if it wasn’t, you were going to drag me away anyway.”
“I’m not that much of an idiot.”
Tyrell looked up. Dark clouds were gathering in the sky.
“I’m trying to fix this, but it’s already gone too far.”
Just then, the Black Dragon appeared—riding wind and fog, landing on the beach. He could smell the blood of his mate.
He growled when he saw Hasollan sitting among fallen knights, held by Tyrell.
“What do you want?” she asked quickly as Akellans approached.
“Peace for Soruk.”
Of course. He didn’t want war—he wanted to minimize the damage. A smart diplomat’s choice.
But it was Tyrell who replied.
“You didn’t do all this just for peace, did you?”
Akellans laughed coldly.
“I didn’t start this, but here we are.”
Without another word, Akellans examined Hasollan and Princess Deny. He understood what had happened. Solan met his eyes and gave a small nod—as if to say, listen to Tyrell.
The princess needed medical care. The knights would bleed out if left untreated. So would Solan.
“You want me to let this go, after what you did?”
“I’ll leave behind everyone responsible. The bodies too. But swear it—on your bond.”
Sweat trickled from Tyrell’s temple. He was bargaining with the Black Dragon—for the fate of his nation.
Akellans let out a dry laugh. He had never made a deal like this before. He had never lost a bargain until now.
“I swear.”
He didn’t have time to hesitate. If he did, Solan might die. She was in pain—he couldn’t stall or be cold.
“But just this once.”
He stepped forward. Tyrell backed away, still holding Solan.
“Then hand over my mate and the princess.”
Tyrell looked down. Solan was sweating, breathing heavily.
“…I’m sorry.”
He laid her gently on the sand and stepped away.
Even Boris went pale at the sight of Akellans—his presence was overwhelming.
“Solan.”
Akellans bent down and spoke softly.
“Let’s go.”
Tyrell grabbed Boris.
“Don’t look back.”
“Y-Yes…”
The two of them hurried off. Rodus’s men tried to follow, but suddenly they screamed in horror.
“Don’t look back!”
Tyrell pulled Boris into a run. Behind them, blood splattered and screams echoed. The sand turned red. But Boris never looked back—he was too afraid.
The last thing Hasollan remembered was Akellans holding her as black mist surrounded them. She saw his golden eyes—and regretted everything.
Why did I give my life to this country again?
Just like before. Whether wounded on the battlefield or sick in bed, she always suffered alone. Loyal maids or knights would call doctors, nurse her back—and she’d throw herself into work again.
Sometimes Akellans would send rare herbs to the royal physician. That alone made her feel thankful.
“Solan.”
Don’t call me. I’m tired of it. No matter how gently you say my name, I won’t be fooled again. If I open my eyes, I’ll just go back to serving the Empire.
I’m so foolish.
Because she didn’t want little Princess Deny to get hurt, she did it again. Repeated the same mistake.
“Please wake up, okay?”
Every time she opened her eyes, she was alone. Nothing ever changed.
“Solan.”
Even crying had become too exhausting. Crying just left her with red, swollen eyes and an aching body.
I’m tired. I hate this.
She had lived a life of painful, one-sided love. Everything hurts.
“Solan.”
Her feverish vision blurred—but strangely, she could see him. Those golden eyes. He was right there.
Weird.
He touched her forehead and held her hand. Everything else was hot and burning, but his hand was cool. He wiped her sweat. Even with a worried face, he forced a smile.
“You’ll be okay.”
Wow I must be really out of it. I’m hallucinating.
Solan thought so and closed her eyes again. For once, she felt at peace.
When she opened her eyes again, Akellans was still there—those golden eyes staring into hers.
Maybe it wasn’t a dream after all. He’s the guy who rewinds time, right?
She had given up on running. Even thinking about what to do next was too much.
She closed her eyes again. Her mind drifted.
She opened her eyes. Akellans was right next to her—so close she could touch him. The room was warm and lit.
“Want some water?” he asked softly.
It was the same voice she heard while half-asleep, calling her back to life.
She nodded weakly. He brought the cup to her lips. She tried to raise her hand, but he stopped her.
“It’ll hurt if you move.”
And it did hurt. Her side pulled sharply. She winced but drank the cool, sweet water.
“Fifth Ides.”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“Today is the fifth Ides. You’ve been unconscious for five days.”
Five days? She gasped—but that hurt too.
“Stay still. You had a high fever.”
So much blood had filled this room—so many bloody towels were taken out. She couldn’t even move a finger.
“The arrow went through your thigh,” he said, frowning.
He had promised himself he’d only show her a smile when she woke up—but he couldn’t help it.
“That beast’s claw left a deep wound too.”
He had spent the last five days in hell—his nerves on fire. He almost went out to slaughter all the Soruk tigers, but he couldn’t leave her side.
“It was deep. Deep.”
That was his standard. Maybe others would call it mild—but to him, it was horrifying.
“The princess?”
She managed to ask. Akellans stared at her. Of all things to say when waking up—he felt a mix of disbelief, guilt, and irritation.
That little brat’s the first thing you ask about?
Not me?
He closed his mouth, then opened it again.
“She’s fine. Woke up the next day, cried her lungs out, and got better. Her arm’s a bit broken, but—”
How is an arm a “bit” broken??? 😄