The Dragon Rebellion (M-Preg)

Chapter Sixteen: The Aftermath

Three days, seven hours, and twenty-four minutes.

That's how long the redrya had been unconscious. Kincaid had been unable to question the male further about his involvement in the Rebellion after he passed out mid-marking.

It worked well enough in his favor though. Gave him the time to deal with the mess with his brother. And figure out what exactly had happened.

Risky as it was, he weighed his limited options before seeking out Pelryn. The knowledge of pair's betrayal had not been known by more than the trusted two he allowed in the Belt with him. Warriors he had saved during the migration to Earth. They would not reveal his secret.

But Pelryn was another story. Pelryn was on the Council. The Council loyal to the King. Still, they had been friends once. Kincaid was counting on the male's sentimentality.

After giving the male a very abridged version of the events that had occurred, keeping the involvement of the Rebellion out of it, he waited for the male's insight. It wouldn't be unusual for Kincaid to have his pair taken to the Belt, other Naerians have done so for smaller offenses, yet, Pelryn seemed surprised by the knowledge. He did not comment on it, but Kincaid knew what disappointment looked like.

He had seen it enough throughout his life.

"I'm afraid I have not experienced such an occurrence with my pair," he admitted after a brief silence.

Kincaid stiffened, leaning forward in his seat.

"You are sure? Not even after your initial bonding?"

Pelryn thought for a moment before shaking his head, brows now furrowed in concern.

"You say you felt what he did during the bonding?" Pelryn questioned again.

Kincaid growled in frustration, leaning back in his chair, but nodded. "Down to the damn Locking," he hissed.

Pelryn hummed inquisitively, rubbing his chin as he glanced at his own pair in the corner of the room, keeping quiet and remaining still. Likely not to draw attention to himself as most redrya seemed to do in the presence of Naerians.

"This is interesting. Perhaps it is the signifying element of a strong bond. One that has evolved with our prolonged inhabitation of this planet. In that case, it would be a truly marvelous development. However, I can see how discipline would be an issue."

Though he spoke aloud, it was merely his thoughts as he analyzed the situation. Kincaid sank into his own head.

Discipline would not normally be an issue as he rarely had the time nor the energy to spare on it. But things were different. The involvement of the Rebellion made things different.

How could he interrogate the redrya if everything he felt, Kincaid would feel the same?

The male had never thought much about the way his kind treated the humans, but after experiencing it, knowing what having a sheath torn felt like intimately? It was not something he ever wanted to experience again.

And that right there was the problem. This weakness would make him soft. He will not be able to do his duty if he worried about the pain he was inflicting, or that others were inflicting on their pairs.

There was no room for empathy. Not with his job. Not with his family. Not with the burdens that grew heavier on his shoulders with each passing minute.

"I have a good feeling about this, Kincaid," Pelryn said, pulling Kincaid out of his thoughts.

He fought the sneer that wanted to curl his lip. Of course Pelryn would. Selfishly, he wanted Pelryn to deal with this instead since he clearly didn't understand the true implications of it while having the duty of General.

"Perhaps this will help you in your relationship. That is what you've been working on lately, is it not?" Pelryn smiled.

"There is no relationship," Kincaid grunted, downing the last of his rouj in his glass. Oh so tempted to pour more.

"Of course there is. You just have to stop fighting it. Like I said, I have a good feeling about this. Something new is coming. Something big. The change we need."

Not wanting to hear another word, Kincaid rose, leaving the male's rooms without a backward glance. Tearing through the halls with purpose, all the meandered about lept out of the way.

When he reached his own rooms, the servants were wheeling away yet another uneaten cart of human food.

Slipping into the bedroom, Kincaid silently closed the door behind him.

Still unconscious, the redrya slept. The chain around his ankle was shorter than before, limiting him to the bed alone.

He was not a threat, but an annoyance. An annoyance Kincaid was being forced to deal with.

It wasn't as if the humans could really rally against them. The Rebellion posed no true threat. It was the political implications of the General of the Naerian Army and brother to the King having a pair linked to the group.

If he somehow learned of the Gemma Crystal farm...then it would prove to be rather...difficult.

Kincaid inhaled and exhaled slowly, tasting the smoke from his breath as it flooded out of his nostrils. He needed to shift. He needed to fly, to clear his head. But he could not risk leaving the redrya alone for too long.

He needed answers.

Sitting perched on the chair across the room, he watched the unconscious redrya, covered in bandages, bruised and battered, lay in a heap amongst the pillows.

And he waited.

*

Everything hurt.

Even in this dark void where nothing felt real and he was floating amongst it, he hurt. He couldn't see, just felt it all. Throbbing, burning, stinging. He felt it.

He wished in this darkness he could forget it all. That somehow the trauma would erase it. That he wouldn't have to relive it over and over again.

But life had never been kind to Reid.

It played like a movie. His body reacted again and again, reliving the torture on an endless loop that had him questioning if there somehow was a God and if they were punishing him.

Or was this what they called Hell?

In one of those forgotten cults the world was so fond of before the Change?

He just wanted it to stop. He'd do anything to make it stop.

Anything.

No...you still have work to do. Get up.

Like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him, Reid's body jerked. The sharp movement only served to flare up the aches and pains of his injuries.

Eyes still closed, he didn't feel like he was floating anymore. Instead, there was the familiar softness of pillows surrounding him, the weight of a shackle against his ankle.

He was back there. Not dead yet.

Would that have been better? To end it there?

No. He had work to do.

He had a promise to keep.

Then he opened his eyes.