Aetheria, The Dragon Clan, Dragon Abyss Hall.
Horace Valerius sat at the head seat, his face as solemn as still water, his fingers turning pale from gripping the armrests of his golden dragon-headed throne with such force that it seemed they might crumble.
He stared at his son, who stood in the center of the hall against the light, clad in a dark gold beast robe still dusted with the scent of the Lower Domain, unable to suppress the anger within him.
"You dare return?"
Horace Valerius shot up, his voice icy cold, "Last time you ran away in the middle of the banquet, making me lose all face before the other clans of Aetheria."
The Black-armored Guard standing within the hall were silent as cicadas in winter, kneeling down in unison, and even softening their breaths.
Last time, this bastard lost his memory and personally severed the mate bond with that Lower Domain female, Luna Sutton. He thought his son had finally come to his senses and learned to let go.
