Panic

Chapter 21

Rhydian moved through the city streets like a predator hunting in the dark, his senses sharp, his frustration boiling beneath the surface. He had no idea where she had gone—hell, he didn't even know a damn thing about her. That reckless little witch. Did she have any idea the kind of danger she was walking into?

His jaw clenched as a wave of anger surged through him. She thought she was untouchable, didn't she? Strong, yes, but not invincible. And this city was crawling with those who wouldn't hesitate to rip her apart for the mere taste of her blood. If someone from the dragon kingdom found her…

Rhydian exhaled sharply. She had barely survived the last time—barely. The image of her broken, bloodied body flashed in his mind, making something tighten in his chest.

He hated this. Hated the way his pulse quickened, the way his thoughts spiraled. Why the hell was he panicking? It had only been an hour since she had been reported missing, and yet here he was, prowling through alleyways like a desperate fool with no plan.

He could have sent out his guards—should have—but he knew exactly how she would take that. She would see it as him trying to control her, trying to clip her wings. And She? She was the type to fight back harder just to prove a point.

Still, every second that ticked by made his gut twist tighter. She was strong, but arrogance wouldn't save her from someone who knew how to exploit it.

His frustration boiled over, fingers threading through his hair as he forced himself to focus. He didn't even know her name, yet she was consuming his thoughts, his every step driven by a need he didn't want to acknowledge.

What the hell was wrong with him?

A hurried sound of boots against cobblestone made him turn sharply. Several guards approached, their expressions tense.

"Your Majesty," one of them said urgently, "Her Highness has returned."

Rhydian didn't wait. He vanished from sight in an instant, his speed inhuman as he rushed back to the palace.

The moment he arrived, he didn't hesitate. He burst into her chambers, his presence slamming into the room like a storm.

Seraphina, caught off guard, turned sharply. She clearly hadn't expected him to enter so suddenly—he could see the shock flicker across her delicate features before she quickly masked it.

He stalked toward her, his expression cold, but his pulse raging beneath the surface. "Where have you been?" His voice was sharp, edged with something dangerously close to desperation. "Can you not leave without informing anyone? You had me so worried, damn it!"

The words escaped before he could stop them. He hadn't meant to sound so… emotional. Fury burned through him, but it wasn't just anger—it was something deeper, something he refused to name.

He expected her to snap back, to meet his frustration with that sharp tongue of hers. But she didn't.

Instead, she held his gaze and softly said, "I'm sorry."

It was genuine. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. And that… that threw him off more than anything.

For a moment, he was at a loss. He opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure of what the hell to say.

His voice was quieter when he finally spoke. "Are you… doing good?" He didn't even know why he was asking, why his tone had softened. Did he feel guilty for yelling?

Seraphina's expression shifted slightly, but then, like a switch, she composed herself. "I'm fine, Your Majesty."

There she was again, putting up her walls.

"Just call me Rhydian," he muttered, stepping closer. "No need to pretend. I know you don't like me."

She didn't respond immediately, but her brows furrowed slightly when he asked, "What's your name, Purple?"

She blinked, clearly surprised that he still didn't know.

"It's Seraphina," she said, her voice calm but not emotionless.

Rhydian took another step closer, closing the distance between them until she had to tilt her head up to meet his gaze. He didn't miss the way her breath hitched—so subtle most wouldn't notice, but he did.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached out to take her hand.

She pulled away instantly.

His fingers curled into a fist at his side. So, that was it? She was done pretending now? The switch was fast—so damn fast.

Rhydian let out a slow breath and turned away. "You have a very beautiful name," he murmured, not looking at her.

He wasn't sure why it stung. The way she recoiled. The way she looked at him, like she wanted nothing to do with him.

Why the hell did it bother him?

Then she spoke again, softer this time. "Rhydian… I like your name too."

His breath caught.

His heart skipped.

For the first time in a long time, he felt something shift inside him, something unexpected. His pulse thundered, and for once, he didn't know why.

Averting his gaze, he quickly said, "I'll be joining you for dinner. I have somewhere I need to be, so I won't be back for a while."

Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and strode out.

The moment the door shut behind him, he leaned against it, exhaling sharply. His hand pressed against his chest.

What the hell was this feeling?

Why was his heartbeat so damn erratic?

His thoughts were still tangled when a voice interrupted.

"Your Majesty."

Rhydian looked up to see Irene standing before him, bowing in respect. He cleared his throat, forcing his emotions back under control. With a brief nod, he pushed away from the door and walked off.

He had no time for this. No time to dwell on emotions he couldn't afford to have.

Right now, there was only one thing on his mind—the witch queen.

As he stepped out of the palace, Edmund was already waiting.

"Get ready," Rhydian ordered, his voice urgent. "We're visiting the witch queen… in disguise."

Edmund hesitated. "But why? You were supposed to win the princess over first before confronting the queen. You don't even know how much they hate us—they might use this chance to kill you!"

Rhydian's expression darkened. "I'm not that easy to kill, Ed."

He wasn't going to waste any more time. The dragon kingdom had sent another threat letter. If he didn't act now, his mother's life would be in even greater danger.

"Stop blabbing and get ready," he snapped. "We're leaving right away."