Scarlett woke to an empty bed.
Again.
She reached across the sheets, finding only cold fabric where Sylus should have been. Her hand landed on something else instead—a small wrapped box on the nightstand, accompanied by a note written in his elegant handwriting.
Kitten,
I'm sorry I had to leave early. Business that couldn't wait. I'll be back late tonight—don't wait up. The gift is an apology for missing breakfast with you. Again.
I love you. Stay safe. Listen to Lin.
- Sylus
P.S. - You were very bold last night. It was perfect.
Scarlett's face immediately turned red at that last line. Memories of wine and card games and her very drunk confession about him being "stupidly handsome" came flooding back. Oh god. What else had she said? What had she done?
She unwrapped the box with burning cheeks and found a delicate bracelet—white gold with small diamond accents that caught the morning light. Beautiful. Expensive. Very Sylus.
She smiled despite her disappointment at waking alone. He was a busy man. She knew that. The empire he'd built to protect her required constant attention—territory to maintain, enemies to manage, business to oversee.
She understood. Really, she did.
Even if she wished he could stay in bed with her just once instead of running off to handle "situations" before dawn.
Scarlett set the bracelet on the nightstand carefully and headed for the shower. She had her own responsibilities today—art class at the university, assignments to complete, a life to maintain outside of being the dragon lord's wife.
Even if that title followed her everywhere like a shadow.
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The university campus was beautiful in the morning light, students hurrying between buildings, the normal chaos of academic life. Scarlett walked with Lin trailing a respectful distance behind—close enough to intervene if needed, far enough to give the illusion of privacy.
But everyone noticed anyway.
The whispers started the moment she entered the art building.
"That's her. The dragon lord's wife."
"I heard he killed twelve people just to marry her."
"My cousin said she tried to run away and he shot her. Like, actually shot her."
"Don't stare too long. His men are always watching."
Scarlett kept her head high and walked to her classroom. She was used to this by now—the fear, the rumors, the way people scattered when she approached like she might explode if they got too close.
In her art class, students kept their distance. The seats on either side of her remained conspicuously empty. When the professor asked for volunteers to critique each other's work, everyone suddenly became very interested in their own projects.
No one wanted to accidentally offend the dragon lord's wife.
No one wanted to risk saying the wrong thing and having it get back to him.
It was lonely. Isolating. But it was also her reality now.
Scarlett set up her easel and tried to focus on her painting—a landscape of mountains and clouds, trying to capture the feeling of flying she remembered from dreams of her past life. White dragon soaring through blue skies, free and joyful.
A life before fear. Before reputation. Before being the person everyone was afraid to approach.
She missed that sometimes. Missed being nobody. Missed when her biggest problem was affording bubble tea, not whether her presence would terrify everyone around her.
But then she thought of Sylus. Of waking up in his arms. Of the way he looked at her like she was his entire world. Of finally understanding why he'd done everything—the cage, the control, the desperate measures.
And she knew she wouldn't trade it. Wouldn't go back to that lonely apartment and her trafficker parents and a life where no one knew her name.
This was better. Even with the whispers. Even with the isolation.
Because she was loved. Truly, completely, across-lifetimes loved.
That had to count for something.
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Sylus sat in the upscale restaurant swirling his whiskey, every muscle in his body coiled with tension beneath his calm exterior.
Across from him sat three men in expensive suits, smiling like they were discussing legitimate business opportunities. Talking about "cease-fires" and "mutually beneficial arrangements" and "putting past conflicts behind us."
Liars. All of them.
Sylus could smell the deception. Literally—his dragon senses picked up the acrid scent of anxiety poorly masked by cologne, the metallic tang of concealed weapons, the particular odor of men planning violence.
These were the same men from the festival. The ones who'd chased them through the streets. The ones who'd tried to kill him and take Scarlett.
And now they sat here, pretending to negotiate peace while planning their next attack.
The leader—a man who called himself Darius, though Sylus knew that wasn't his real name—leaned back in his chair with false confidence. "We believe there's room for cooperation, Mr. Qin. Your territory in the N109 zone, our connections in the southern districts. Together we could—"
"How stupid do you think I am?" Sylus interrupted, voice pleasant but eyes cold.
Darius's smile faltered. "I'm sorry?"
"I can smell the guns under your jackets. I can smell your men positioned throughout this restaurant—" Sylus gestured lazily around the room. "—at least fifteen of them, maybe twenty. All armed. All waiting for your signal."
The false friendliness drained from Darius's face. "I don't know what you're—"
"You attacked my wife." Sylus's voice dropped to something deadly. "At the festival. You chased us through the streets. You pointed guns at the woman I love."
His blood boiled at the memory. Scarlett's terrified face. Her shaking hands on the steering wheel. The way she'd cried afterward, begging him not to take stupid risks.
These men had caused that. Had threatened her. Had tried to take her from him.
Unforgivable.
"That was a misunderstanding," Darius tried, but his hand was already moving toward his jacket.
Sylus smiled. Cold. Predatory. Pure dragon. "No. That was a mistake. Your last mistake."
He took a final sip of his whiskey, savoring it. Then set the glass down with deliberate care.
"Shall we drop the pretense?"
Darius's answer was pulling his gun.
But Sylus was faster.
The table flipped—Sylus's inhuman strength sending it flying into Darius's bodyguards. Gunfire erupted immediately, the restaurant descending into chaos. Civilians screamed and ran for exits. Glass shattered. Chairs overturned.
Sylus moved through it like a force of nature.
A thousand years of combat experience guided his movements. He didn't think—just acted. Knife from his boot driving into the nearest attacker's throat. Gun taken from dying hands, turned on the next target. Bullet after bullet, each one finding its mark with lethal precision.
His men had appeared from their own positions throughout the restaurant—they'd expected this ambush, had prepared for it. Now they fought with brutal efficiency, covering their boss while eliminating threats.
But Sylus's focus was entirely on Darius.
The coward was trying to escape, bleeding from a wound in his side but still mobile. He fired wildly behind him, hitting nothing, just trying to create enough chaos to slip away.
Sylus pursued with single-minded determination. Jumped over bodies—some his men, most not. Dodged return fire. Closed the distance with inhuman speed.
Almost had him—
Darius crashed through a kitchen door, and by the time Sylus followed, the back exit was swinging shut. He burst outside to see Darius climbing into a car, leaving a trail of blood, already pulling away.
Escaped.
Injured. Bleeding. But escaped.
Sylus snarled—an actual snarl, more dragon than human—and considered giving chase. Could probably catch the car on foot if he fully unleashed his nature. Could tear it apart with his bare hands and finish what he'd started.
But that would mean leaving his position. Mean abandoning his men who were still cleaning up inside. Mean acting recklessly when he'd promised Scarlett he'd be more careful.
He let Darius go. For now.
Sylus returned to the restaurant, surveying the damage. Bodies everywhere—at least twenty of Darius's men, dead or dying. Some civilians caught in the crossfire, already being attended to by his people. The restaurant itself was destroyed, bullet holes in every surface, blood pooling on expensive tile.
A war zone. Because that's what it was. What it had always been.
"Boss?" One of his men approached, bleeding from his shoulder but standing. "Orders?"
Sylus's mind worked quickly, calculating. Darius had escaped but would be back. This wasn't over—it was just beginning. The man would lick his wounds and return with reinforcements. Would target the weakest point in Sylus's armor.
Would target Scarlett.
"Everyone back to the mansion," Sylus commanded, voice cold and controlled. "Maximum security protocols. I want every entrance fortified, every guard on high alert. Darius will retaliate, and when he does, he'll come for her."
His men nodded and began coordinating extraction, leaving cleanup crews to handle the bodies and police.
Sylus pulled out his phone, fingers moving across the screen despite the blood on his hands. Typing a message to Scarlett before she could start worrying about why he wasn't answering her earlier texts.
Will pick you up after class. On time. Don't leave with anyone else. - S
Simple. Direct. No mention of the violence or the threat or the fact that he was standing in a restaurant that looked like a massacre had occurred.
No need to worry her. Not yet.
He'd pick her up. Bring her home. Make sure she was safe behind walls and guards and every protection he could provide.
And then he'd finish this. Hunt down Darius and everyone connected to him. Eliminate the threat permanently.
No one threatened his mate and lived to plan a second attempt.
No one.
Around him, his men worked efficiently. Outside, sirens wailed in the distance. But Sylus just stood in the center of carnage, covered in blood that wasn't his, and thought about the woman currently sitting in art class, probably painting something beautiful.
His reason for everything. His mate. His Scarlett.
He'd burn this entire city to ash before letting Darius touch her.
Would paint every street red with enemy blood before allowing another threat to reach her.
Would become the monster everyone already feared him to be if that's what it took to keep her safe.
The dragon protecting his treasure.
Exactly as it had always been. Exactly as it would always be.
Until the threat was eliminated. Until Darius was dead. Until everyone understood what happened when you threatened Sylus Qin's wife.
War was coming.
And Scarlett, currently painting clouds in her art class, had no idea the storm that was about to break over their lives.
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To be continued.