Of all the things Riley expected to see in the Dragon Lord's estate, this was not on the list.
On the couch in the lounge, Orien was in his baby dragon form—tiny tail sticking straight up like a flag in surrender, hind legs splayed awkwardly, wings drooping to the sides as if life had already given up on him. His face was completely squished into the cushions, so all Riley could see was the curve of his back and a twitching tail that looked more like an involuntary spasm than anything deliberate.
For a split second, Riley's heart leapt into his throat. It looked exactly like the aftermath of a very small, very fluffy murder mystery. All that was missing was chalk outlines and police tape.
"Orien!" He blurted it so fast he forgot any honorifics entirely.
The baby dragon did not move. Not even a twitch of his ear frill.
Riley spun toward Kael, eyes wide. "What happened here?!"
Kael's expression didn't so much as ripple. "It seems to be an unknown disease."
