Chapter 189
Chapter 189
Augustus's POV
The obsidian throne felt cold beneath me as I sat through another tedious morning court session, my fingers drumming impatiently against the armrests while nobles droned on about border taxes and military provisions. Their voices blurred into meaningless noise as my mind churned with growing unease.
I should never have agreed to let Lina visit the dungeons. The dungeons were no place for a pregnant woman—those fetid depths reeked of blood, decay, and the desperate wails of the damned.
My grip tightened on the throne's armrests until my claws began to pierce the reinforced metal.
A low-ranking guard stumbled through the entrance, his armor splattered with blood and his face pale with terror as he collapsed to one knee before my throne. His voice cracked with panic as he delivered words that turned my blood to ice: "Your Majesty! Lady Lina has been attacked by Horace Valeria in the dungeons—she... she's unconscious with severe abdominal pain!"
The throne hall plunged into absolute silence before erupting in shocked whispers and gasps. My vision narrowed to a tunnel of rage as dragon scales erupted along my neck and jawline, the air around me shimmering with heat that made the nearest courtiers step back in alarm. I rose from the throne like a force of nature unleashed.
The guard reported that Selas had rushed Lina back to the chamber, where court physicians were fighting to save both mother and child. The words "critical condition" echoed in my mind like a death knell as I turned and strode from the hall without a single word, leaving chaos and whispered fears in my wake.
I found Selas pacing frantically outside the Dragon's Hearth, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead as he repeatedly questioned every medical attendant who emerged from the chamber, only to receive grave shakes of their heads in response. His usually composed demeanor had cracked completely, revealing the desperate fear that mirrored my own as he wore a path in the stone floor with his restless steps.
The sight of my chief guard—the man I trusted above all others—standing there helpless and bloodied while my mate and child fought for their lives inside unleashed something primal and destructive within me. Without warning, I drove my boot into his chest with enough force to send him flying backward until he crashed against a stone pillar with a sickening thud.
"Worthless!" I snarled, my voice distorted by the draconic fury that threatened to consume me entirely. "You couldn't even protect one woman—what use is your miserable life?!"
Selas crawled back to my feet despite the obvious pain wracking his body, his loyalty absolute even in the face of my wrath. "Your Majesty! Horace kicked Lady Lena exactly like that! If the heir cannot be saved, I'll gladly die the same death as penance for the young prince!"
His words penetrated my rage enough to make me lower my foot, though my chest continued to heave with barely contained violence as scales spread across half my face and my golden pupils burned with the promise of destruction.
Moros materialized from the shadows and placed a restraining hand on my arm. "Your Majesty, your draconic presence will terrify the physicians and make them hesitant in their treatments, potentially causing more harm than good."
Grok arrived moments later, breathless from his sprint to reach us, and immediately supported Moros's counsel. "You'll be unable to help inside—dragon aura interferes with healing magic and could disrupt their work when precision is most crucial!"
Every instinct demanded I tear down the walls to reach them, but cold logic prevailed. I collapsed into the hastily brought stone chair, head in hands as my scales receded, revealing a vulnerability none had ever witnessed.
"Speak," I commanded hoarsely, lifting my head to fix Selas with a stare that could melt steel. "Tell me everything that happened, and leave out nothing."
Selas's voice trembled as he described the attack: Horace losing control after signing the blood contract, lunging at Lena in shackles, knocking her down before his boot struck her abdomen. The thought of my pregnant mate being brutalized while I discussed taxes filled me with crushing self-loathing.
"I rushed in immediately," Selas continued, guilt consuming his words, "but too late. Lady Lina clutched her stomach, crying in pain as I subdued Horace. The physician diagnosed possible miscarriage and ordered immediate transport. I carried her back while she moaned and bled from her injuries."
His voice broke as he added, "It's all my fault, Your Majesty! I underestimated Horace's madness! I deserve death!"
I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of responsibility and rage settle on my shoulders like a physical burden. When I opened them again, my voice carried the cold finality of absolute judgment.
"Send word immediately—Horace Valeria is condemned to death by fire for assaulting the royal consort and endangering dragon bloodline. The execution will take place tomorrow at noon in the Skyspire Plaza."