They called it peace, but it was nothing more than distance—space carefully carved between themselves and him.
For days, the tension in the dorm only thickened. Conversations faltered the moment Ramien or Damien stepped inside, voices dropping into uneasy silence that clung to the walls long after they passed. No one said anything outright, yet everything was said all the same.
Alpha tried—he truly did—but Ramien made sure to stay out of his reach. Every shared corridor, every near glance, Ramien avoided. Distance felt safer. Necessary.
Damien, too, was absent in his own way. He lingered with his friends, rarely staying long enough for Ramien to speak to him, as if avoiding the weight of unfinished words.
What Ramien couldn't ignore was the change in his brother whenever Reinna was nearby. Damien softened around her—his voice gentler, his sharp edges dulled.
Watching them, Ramien became certain of it: Damien was in love. Stranger still was Derian. Though Ramien barely knew him, he'd noticed how Derian seemed to lose his composure whenever Reinna appeared, irritation flashing openly across his face.
Left alone with his thoughts, Ramien slipped into quiet despair.
There were only two paths ahead—both unforgiving.
He could tell the truth and allow the bond between himself and his dragon to be severed, a choice that would drastically shorten his lifespan. A slow death disguised as honesty.
Or he could allow the dragon to be sealed once more—a fate he could not accept, not with the fury already burning within it.
Neither choice felt survivable.
Most evenings, Ramien sat beneath a solitary tree, watching the sun sink beyond the horizon. The sky burned briefly with color before fading into darkness, and he remained there in silence, wondering how long that fragile calm would last.
It wasn't long before Reinna noticed the change in him.
At first, she came only to cheer him up. But soon, their evenings became routine—sitting side by side beneath the tree, saying little, watching the sunset together. The silence between them was comfortable, understanding.
Ramien initially believed she was there for him.
Then he realized the truth.
Reinna was struggling too.
Whatever weighed on her, she kept it locked away, just as he did. And without meaning to, Ramien found himself doing the same thing for her—offering quiet presence instead of questions, silence instead of pressure.
One night, Ramien returned to the dorm to meet the usual stillness.
But this time, something was different.
The air felt tight.
"What's going on?" he asked carefully.
Ace didn't answer. He only tilted his head slightly toward the wall.
Damien stood there, leaning casually, expression unreadable.
"Where have you been?" Damien asked.
"With a friend," Ramien replied after a pause. "Why?"
Damien smiled.
It didn't reach his eyes.
"Come," he said calmly. "Let me show you something."
He walked to the study table, where his Fate Orb rested. As soon as his hand hovered near it, the orb flared—bright yellow light flooding the surface.
Damien glanced back at Ramien.
"Do you know what this color means?"
Ramien swallowed. "The Fate Orb reflects four bonds," he said slowly, not knowing where Damien was going. "Neutrality, Friendship, Love, and Hate. Their colors are transparent, blue, yellow, and red."
"That's right," Damien said.
Then his voice hardened.
"Which means whoever this friend of yours is," he continued evenly, "she doesn't belong near you."
Ramien's chest tightened.
"She's mine," Damien added. "And the orb confirms it."
He stepped closer.
"I don't want to argue with you, Ram."
Damien placed his hands on Ramien's shoulders, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed his ear.
"Just understand this."
Their eyes met.
Then Damien stepped back, turned away, and left Ramien standing there—alone, heart pounding, forced to digest words that felt less like a warning…
…and more like a claim.
Sleep never came that night.
Ramien lay awake, staring at the ceiling, thoughts spiraling. If things continued this way, a fight between him and his brother was inevitable. And worse—his dragon already hated Damien. Truly, deeply.
There was only one solution.
He had to cut Reinna off.
Painful as it was, distancing himself from her was the only way to prevent everything from collapsing. Funny how it had started—meeting her at the school gates, thinking he had nothing to do with royalty. Now, his own brother stood against him because of her.
With grim resolve, Ramien decided he would tell her the next day.
He would end it before it went any further.
But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
The next evening, just as Ramien gathered the courage to speak, Reinna spoke first.
"Ramien… there's something I want to say."
He froze.
"I want to be the friend you trust the most," she said softly. "The one you can lean on in your darkest moments. The one who sees you for who you truly are."
Her voice wavered.
"I want to stay with you… for as long as life allows it."
Silence.
Ramien couldn't breathe.
His pupils shrank to pinpoints as her words crashed into him all at once—heavy, warm, terrifying.
He had come here to push her away.
To tell her not to have anything to do with him.
But instead—
She had confessed.
Ramien staggered slightly, brows drawn tight as his world tilted. Reinna didn't notice. Her gaze was fixed on the ground, cheeks flushed, fingers clenched nervously as she waited for an answer.
And Ramien stood there, torn between duty, fear…
…and the quiet truth he had been trying so hard to deny.
At last, all he managed to say was,
"How sure are you about what you're saying? This isn't a joke."
Reinna's face lit up, unhesitating.
"My orb confirms it."
The words struck him like a gong.
A sharp, splitting pain tore through Ramien's head, forcing him to stagger. His vision blurred as the familiar, hated voice echoed inside his mind.
Why are you hesitating? the dragon snarled. I can accept this. She's been there for you since the day you first sparred with her.
A pause—then irritation bled into its tone. Are you afraid of Damien?
Ramien clenched his teeth.
What you're trying to break now, the dragon continued, voice lowering, is what you haven't yet found—but already exists inside you.
A pause, almost mocking. Affection you refuse to name.
Heat flared in Ramien's chest.
Release me, the dragon continued. I can erase that mortal for you.
"Shut up!" Ramien cried, clutching his head.
Reinna rushed forward, grabbing his arm.
"Ramien—are you okay?"
He wasn't.
The pain only worsened, the world spinning as the voice pressed deeper, darker.
If you won't release me, the dragon promised coldly, then know this—when I break my chains, he will descend into the underworld.
"Don't you touch my brother," Ramien warned through clenched teeth.
Or what? the dragon scoffed.
Then—silence.
The voice vanished.
Ramien's knees buckled, and before Reinna could react, he collapsed, the world going black around him.
At a distance from the arena, beneath a wide, quiet tree, two boys sat watching the sunset.
One had red eyes and red-black blond hair; the other looked as though he had stepped straight out of a dream.
"So let me get this straight," Derian said, one brow lifting. "You saw your brother with Her Highness and decided to protect them?"
He tilted his head. "From what, exactly?"
Damien replied without hesitation, his voice firm.
"I'm protecting Reinna from harm—and Ramien from guilt."
Derian hummed, nodding slowly.
"Hm. That's a lie," he said at last. "A pretty fat one, too."
Damien snapped his head toward him.
"What do you mean, a lie? I barely ever lie."
"Sure," Derian replied lazily, meeting his gaze. "You're not protecting anyone from anything, bro. You're jealous."
"No, I'm not," Damien said flatly.
Derian's eyes half-lidded. "I know jealousy when I see it."
He glanced back toward the arena. "Still don't get what you see in the princess."
"Watch it, Derian," Damien warned.
Derian scrunched his nose and silently mimicked the words.
Damien snorted despite himself—then frowned. He had no idea why Derian disliked Reinna so much, and he had no intention of asking.
Thunder broke the silence behind them, not like a storm, but like something waking up. They turned slowly—and in that moment, both understood this storm was never going to end with just rain.