The Dragon King and His Fallen Star novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38: Almost

KIERYGAN’S POV

It was my second cold bath of the night.

I needed it. Because if I didn’t, I might’ve reduced the entire wing to ash.

The water had long since surrendered its chill, now lukewarm and steaming, ghostly coils rising

across the marble floor. Still, I remained submerged-jaw tight, eyes shut, arms braced on either

side of the tub.

Waiting. For her.

After what felt like forever, I felt her-crossing the outer threshold.

A shift in the air. A ripple across my senses. That familiar pull in my bones… the one I always feel

when she’s near.

Then came the sound of her footsteps. Softer. More careful than usual.

She was trying to sneak in.

She must’ve left her shoes behind, thinking she could slip past unnoticed. That she could outsmart

I stood at once, water cascading down my skin. No more waiting.

By the time she reached her door, I was already dressed-shirt half-buttoned, hair still damp. I moved to mine, fingers curling around the handle.

The moment her fingertips grazed her latch…

Slam.

I threw my door open.

She jerked in surprise and muttered some clumsy substitute for a curse she’d picked up-gods

know where.

The boots she’d been carrying slipped from her hands with a thud. Barefoot, just as I’d guessed. Her eyes widened, guilt flashing across her face. Lips parted-perhaps already searching for an

excuse she knew I wouldn’t believe.

“You missed dinner,” I said, my voice low and rough.

A flicker of fear crossed her violet eyes-but she lifted her chin, trying to look brave. And gods help

me, it shouldn’t have thrilled me the way it did.

I was a fool to think this would be an easy conversation. That I could scold her for coming back

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late, lay out the danger, and she’d just nod in quiet submission like she used to.

But I hadn’t accounted for how much she’d changed-how much she’d grown.

This wasn’t the same girl I’d carried from that tower. That one had flinched at the shadows, withered under harsh words, and barely dared to breathe the outside air. This one… glared. Snapped. Faced my fury with a clenched jaw and eyes that burned.

Claim

She didn’t blindly follow anymore. She didn’t flinch when I growled. Didn’t shrink from my presence.

I should’ve started with an apology-for doubting her. For telling her that her light was something to fear.

But instead… I’d cornered her. Confronted her in the dark, all because my pride bristled at being made to wait-like some wounded beast sulking over a bruised ego.

Her eyes were on fire, her words molten. She should’ve infuriated me-talking back, glaring like I was the enemy.

But Eirlys… her defiance stirred something else. Something primal. Ancient. Wicked. Burning.

Something that had nothing to do with anger.

I didn’t just want to kiss her. I wanted to punish her mouth for speaking to me that way- thoroughly.

To chase the fight from her lips and swallow every sound she made. To hear her gasp my name-

not from fear, but from need.

I wanted her. To give her what I couldn’t give Mirael wholly, fiercely. And that realization alone

made me step back.

Dangerous. This was dangerous.

So I turned away and slammed the door behind me.

I’d only managed a few moments of sleep, but it was enough to clear my head. This morning, I was

going to try again.

I made my way to the dining hall. Everyone was already seated at the long table-except her. Her

chair sat empty.

That was all it took to sour my mood.

“Let me guess,” Orryx said, raising a steaming mug to his lips. “This is about last night. Didn’t end

well, did it?”

I ignored him and turned, catching sight of Emma in my periphery. She was carrying a tray. ‘Where

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are you taking that?’ I demanded, my voice low but cutting.

Clas

Emma froze mid-step. “Your Highness” she said carefully. “Eirlys requested to take her breakfast in her room.”

My hand tightened around the knife. The metal bent slightly under the pressure. I’d let her get away with that sass last night. But now she was pushing her luck.

“Take that back to the kitchen,” I said, my voice hard-like steel dragged over flint. “And tell her if she doesn’t come down this instant, she won’t be allowed anywhere else today. Not the gardens. Not Solara’s lessons. Nowhere.”

Emma blinked, startled. “Y-yes, My King,” she stammered, turning on her heel and nearly tripping in her hurry to obey.

Evander leaned back, lifting his goblet with infuriating calm. “That was a bit sharp, don’t you think?”

Callum let out a quiet snort. “Looks like the kitten’s growing claws.”

I didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, I stared down at my plate-still untouched-willing the irritation coiled in my chest to settle.

Not long after, I felt the shift in the air. She was coming.

Her footsteps echoed down the corridor, each one deliberately slow, as if she were dragging her feet just to delay reaching the table.

Orryx, Callum, and Evander greeted her with exaggerated cheer. She offered them a small nod, sighed, and took her seat-without so much as a glance in my direction.

As soon as she started eating, so did I.

I didn’t look up. I didn’t need to. I could see her-every flicker of motion, every tight movement from the corner of my eye. She was forcing the food down, not tasting it. The lines on her face. gave her away. She was angry, Still.

When her plate was empty, she finally glanced my way.

“May I go?” she asked, her voice even-but clipped,

I didn’t answer right away. I let the silence stretch, let her sit there a breath too long. Let her stare- and I held her gaze as she waited for permission. Finally, I gave a single nod.

“Go.”

She began to push back her chair, but I spoke again before she could rise. “I’ll have someone pick you up. Just in case you forget the time again.”

Her gaze sharpened-offended, maybe-but her tone stayed polite. Too polite. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be back before sundown,” she said. “I won’t forget.”

Then she stood and walked away. But just as she reached the doorway-thinking she was far enough no one could hear-she whispered, “I don’t want to be more of a burden than I already am

That made me stop. I set down my silver goblet with a sharp thud. Where in the hell did she get that

idea?

Unless someone put it in her head.

I rose and strode after her, fast and unthinking. She was already past the threshold when I caught up and grabbed her elbow, spinning her around to face me.

“What did you just say?” I demanded.

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t say anything,” she lied.

“You did,” I said, voice low. “I heard you. And I never said you were a burden.”

She tried to yank her hand away, but I didn’t let go. You didn’t have to, she snapped. “You’re

thinking it. Everyone is.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Who said that to you?”

She looked away. “It doesn’t matter.”

My jaw clenched. I stepped closer, grip tightening. Tell. Me.”

“No one,” she said-too fast, too light. A lie.

I tilted my head. “Stop being difficult, Eirlys,” I said, my voice low with warning. “I don’t like

repeating myself. Who said it?”

She wrenched out of my hold, folding her arms across her chest. Her chin lifted, defiant. “Had you asked me yesterday in the garden,” she said, her voice trembling with anger, “I would’ve told you.”

That look was back-the same wounded one from before. “But you didn’t ask,” she added.

I didn’t need her to say it. I’d already connected the dots.

That must have been why she crackled in the garden yesterday-why the earth trembled beneath

her feet. Mirael had cornered her again. And this time, she called her a burden.

The word made something sharp twist in my chest.

Without thinking, overtaken by the pull I could no longer ignore, I stepped forward and wrapped my

arms around her. She stiffened, surprised-but I held her tighter, grounding myself in the feel of her

against me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, the words rough but true. Finally spoken-too late last night, but not now. “I

shouldn’t have said what I did.”

She didn’t answer. But she didn’t pull away, either.

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I let my hand rest lightly between her shoulder blades, anchoring her to me. “You didn’t hurt Mirael, I said, my voice low. “She lied. I know that now.”

Still, she didn’t say anything. But I felt it-something warm and damp soaking through the fabric of

my tunic.

Tears.

She was crying.

My throat tightened. Gently, I pulled back just enough to see her face.

The sight nearly stole my breath.

So close now, in the light of day… her eyes shimmered, lashes wet, lower lip trembling as she blinked hard, trying to keep more from falling. Beautiful didn’t begin to cover it. She looked both fragile and furious-like something breaking apart and burning all at once.

Without thinking, I reached up and brushed the tears from her cheeks, my fingertips lingering. Her skin was soft. Too soft for this world. Too soft for the pain we kept giving her.

Her breath caught. Mine did too.

My gaze dipped, drawn to her mouth. Her lips were slightly parted. As if waiting.

I leaned in, unable to stop now. The space between us narrowed to a breath. Her warmth wrapped around me, and the way her eyes fluttered half-shut…

Any second now, I’d finally know how her lips felt. How they tasted.

It was all I’d thought about for weeks.

That, and something deeper. Maybe darker.

But then, I heard footsteps. A half-second before she did.

She pulled away just as Solara rounded the corner, a satchel slung over her shoulder, her expression unreadable.

My chest rumbled at the interruption.

“Ready for today’s lessons, Eirlys?” she asked, her tone calm.

Still flushed, Eirlys straightened. “Yes,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

I didn’t stop her when she stepped away. Didn’t say a word as she fell into step beside Solara.

And I stood there, staring after her.

Burning.