BC Chapter 05

Chapter 05

 

 

Duke Solaris, Hasollan , took her own life using the silk given to her by Emperor Akellans. Everyone knew the accusations against her were false—created to remove her because she was too competent, even if she was an “unacknowledged” mate. Yet, despite knowing this, Hasollan did not resist and chose to die. She was likely exhausted.

But what about the emperor?

“If a mate dies, will His Majesty be alright?”

“He’s fine now, so he should continue to be fine.”

“But when a mate dies, the dragon must live on until the next one awakens, right?”

That was how the imperial succession worked—it was an ancient law of the empire.

“You should have shown this concern when Duke Solaris was alive.”

“I never thought His Majesty would order her to take her own life.”

No one expected Hasollan to do it. Dragons were not human, and their thoughts were impossible to understand. The emperor was an ancient being, a powerful ruler who had crushed a civil war led by a young dragon and taken control of the Lupel Empire.

“Still, she was his mate.”

“Was she?”

A single comment stirred controversy.

“But Duke Solaris used the abilities that only a mate could have!”

“Yes, humans can’t do that. But in the end, it’s the dragon who chooses the mate.”

“I heard a rumor that His Majesty had chosen another woman centuries ago.”

That was just an old story passed down for hundreds of years.

The emperor, Akellans, gazed out the window. His golden eyes, with slit pupils, narrowed. The air was damp—was it going to rain? The voices around him felt louder than usual.

“Your Majesty, about Lapanten Castle…”

Lapanten Castle. Ah, the one Hasollan liked.

“Seize all of the traitor’s assets.”

“As you command.”

To a dragon, a single day was but a fleeting moment.

One month later, no one spoke of Hasollan anymore.

‘See? Everyone forgets.’

It had been entirely political. Even though Hasollan had fought alongside him for years, even though she had grown from a clueless young woman into the powerful Duke Solaris—once she was no longer needed, he discarded her.

‘Was I your mate, Your Majesty?’

She had once looked him straight in the eye and asked that question. It had been “convenient” for him to keep her by his side, but after 14 years, Hasollan had declared that she could not wait any longer.

“Decide now.”

Would he keep her, or discard her? The answer was obvious—he cast her aside. The emperor, who would rule for centuries, had crafted a flawless plan, and there was no room for anything unnecessary.

But no matter how rational he was, he had underestimated one thing.

150 days after Hasollan’s death, the dragon coughed up black blood and collapsed.

Dragons were not human. They did not feel emotions like humans did. They simply functioned with precise logic. A dragon’s life span was endless—they could wake and sleep for ages. But when they found a mate, something changed.

“There’s nothing wrong,” the royal physician stammered.

Akellans dismissed him. He knew what was happening—his body was changing. A dragon who lost their mate would eventually die. All the emperors before him had faced this fate.

All except him.

‘You still won’t leave me alone, Hasollan?’

Annoyance surged within him. Why did mighty dragons always fall for selfish, fragile humans, only to die because of them? He clenched his jaw, deep wrinkles forming between his brows.

“His Majesty collapsed? Impossible!”

“He abandoned his mate. What did you expect?”

The voices of his advisors filled his sharp ears.

“You should have at least considered the duke’s request.”

“If His Majesty follows her in death, what will happen to the empire?”

Hasollan. Hasollan. Hasollan.

It was deafening.

‘Your Majesty.’

She used to call out to him, then just smile without saying anything. The memory of her bright face filled his mind. A drop of black blood dripped onto that imagined image.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

Tears fell alongside the blood.

So, she had been his mate. His breaking body was proof enough.

For years, he endured the agony of life without her. Then, something happened.

Akellans, who had been trapped in time, found himself traveling backward—reliving the past, again and again. It wasn’t something he did intentionally. It was a dragon’s instinct, a desperate struggle to survive. Or perhaps… a final attempt to regain his mate’s heart.

Of course, he hadn’t expected to wake up because of her drunken rambling.

‘It doesn’t matter. You called me. That’s all that matters.’

Nothing else mattered.

All he wanted was for her to live.

When he found Hasollan climbing the tallest tower, he felt nothing but fear.

Not the throne. Not power. Just her life.

“Hasollan!”

She stepped into empty air, falling.

Gasps filled the palace as a massive black pillar shot into the sky before crashing back down.

“A black dragon!”

“A new dragon lord?!”

Akellans barely caught Hasollan in time. Her face was drained of all color. He frantically checked her over.

“Solaris, open your eyes.”

If she was truly dead, he would turn back time again. He had already broken every law of nature—one more time wouldn’t matter.

“You’re listening to me. Look at me.”

He had watched her die too many times already. His voice carried a raw desperation. He never let his anger explode, but now, he was barely holding it back.

“You were going to let yourself die when you woke me up, too, weren’t you?”

His dragon form coiled around her protectively. Guards rushed to secure the area, pushing back the stunned courtiers.

“I was wrong,” he admitted. “I’ll do anything you want. Just stop trying to die…!”

He wasn’t even sure what he was saying anymore.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want. I’ll even give up the throne if you want me to!”

Somewhere in the palace, the current white dragon emperor, Lowell, fainted upon hearing this.

“Just…”

He couldn’t finish his sentence.

Hasollan’s dull, lifeless eyes stared at him. He hated it. He wanted to scream at her to stop looking at him like that.

“Your Majesty.”

Her dry voice called him by his title. Not “Your Highness.” Only an emperor and empress could use this term. She had never been given that title before.

He wanted her to stop talking.

“Just let me die. Kill me.”

He wished she hadn’t said that.

His hand, almost without thought, wrapped around her throat.

“You want to die that badly?”

Fine. He would grant her wish.

If she truly wanted death more than anything, he would give her an eternal, inescapable one.

‘If dying is the only way to finally free myself from you…’

She did not resist.

Her slender, fragile throat fit easily in his hand. He only needed to squeeze.

Could he do it?

Akellans’ carefully sculpted features twisted in agony. His trembling hand let go.

‘Why am I stopping?’

Hasollan opened her eyes, puzzled. The man who refused to let her go, not even in death, was shaking. His golden eyes burned with frustration and despair.

“I…”

His voice trembled.

“How could I kill you again?”

He had done it once. And now, he was like this.

He had fallen so low, just to beg her to live.