The Dragon King's Hated Bride-Chapter 127: Search

>>Ariston

The sun burned high over the spires of the demon city, casting jagged shadows through its streets.

I adjusted my cloak, tucking the hood a little tighter over my head. I wasn’t in danger here, not exactly—but being a human walking openly through demon territory always earned too many eyes. Eyes that lingered too long. Eyes that calculated.

Still, I moved forward, one foot after the other, keeping my eyes peeled.

Every shop I passed, I slowed. Every tavern door creaked open, I glanced inside. Every time I thought I saw a figure tall enough, broad enough—my heart jumped, only to fall again.

I stopped at the edge of a weapons vendor first. Blades lined the wall like crooked teeth, and the demon behind the counter raised an eyebrow at me.

"You sell information as well as weapons?" I asked.

The demon leaned forward, yellow eyes narrowing. "Depends who’s asking."

I lowered my hood just enough to meet his eyes, my red irises flashing in the light.

"I’m looking for a man. Human. Red eyes like mine. Black hair. Strong build. Sometimes wears leather." My voice was steady, but every word carried the weight of years.

The merchant snorted, unimpressed. "You just described half the criminals in this city."

I clenched my jaw. "He’s not a criminal." I said, "And he’s human, not a demon."

"No?" He scratched the side of his face with a claw. "Then he’s hiding something worse." He waved me off. "Try the tavern."

The tavern.

"I’ve already been to many taverns." I answered.

"Try the biggest one." He pointed in the direction, "They offer a lot of services."

I nodded at him and walked in the direction I was offered.

I pushed the door open and stepped into the dim, smoky space. Conversations hushed for a moment as I entered, then picked up again when no fight broke out. I approached the barkeep, a hulking demon woman with four arms and a scar across her mouth.

"I’m not here to drink," I said before she could ask.

She gave me a look like I was wasting her time.

"I’m looking for someone. Human man. Red eyes. Black hair. Confident. Might’ve passed through here recently?"

She leaned on the bar, arms crossed, one set of hands still drying glasses.

"And why would a human be asking about another human in a demon town like this?" she asked coolly.

!!!

I didn’t expect her to catch on so fast that I was human too. Maybe this tavern really is different.

"Because he’s my father," I said, my voice dropping low.

Something shifted in her eyes—sympathy, maybe. Or recognition.

"You’re not the first to come asking for someone," she murmured. "But very few come to ask for their family. He went missing on you or something?"

I leaned forward. "Have you seen him?"

"I’ve seen a lot of men," she replied. "He might’ve passed through a week ago. Quiet type. Didn’t stay long."

I gripped the edge of the bar. "Did he say where he was going?"

She shook her head. "Didn’t speak much. Looked like someone who didn’t want to be found."

I leaned across the bar, gripping the wood with both hands. "Please," I said, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. "Just... tell me if you’ve seen him. A man—black hair, red eyes. Human. Tall, sharp voice. Anything."

The barmaid gave me a slow, drawn-out look, then smiled with a kind of lazy amusement. "Nothing comes for free, love."

I swallowed. My patience was already razor-thin. "Then name your price."

She tilted her head toward the far end of the tavern. "I don’t set the prices. That’s the owner’s job."

I blinked. "The owner?"

She didn’t answer. Just nodded her chin in that direction, smirking.

I turned.

My eyes locked onto the figure seated in the center of the crowded room. Laughter rang around him — loud, unbothered, confident. Surrounded by tavern girls and drinks. Hair tied back in a loose knot, black as ink, head thrown back as he laughed at something someone whispered in his ear.

Drakkar.

The world seemed to contract around me. My breath hitched, and my chest burned as something sharp twisted inside it. Of all the taverns in all the demon provinces...

I bit my lower lip hard — frustration, disbelief, and a suffocating sense of being trapped all bubbling to the surface. I didn’t come here for him. I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want him to know I was even in this part of town.

Before I could move, the barkeep called out over the noise, "Boss! Someone wants a word!"

No!!!!

My eyes snapped back to Drakkar. He looked up. His gaze scanned the room — slow, curious, like a predator tracking motion. And I could feel it — that inevitable moment where his eyes would land on mine.

Drakkar’s gaze swept across the room and landed squarely on me.

Damn it!!!! freёwebnoѵel.com

A slow, knowing smirk spread across his face, and he rose from his seat, the tavern girls parting around him like water. His stride was smooth, unhurried, filled with that infuriating confidence that made me want to punch a wall.

"Well, well," he drawled as he approached, arms spreading just slightly. "Look who’s here."

I rolled my eyes hard enough it almost hurt.

"Here to see me?" he asked, cocking his head with mock curiosity. "Miss me?"

"If I’d known you were the one running this place," I snapped, "I would’ve turned around the second I crossed the door."

Drakkar clutched his chest in exaggerated offense. "Ouch. That one hurt." Then he grinned again, leaning closer. "Still, since you’re such a special person to me, you get most of the services here. Free of charge. Food. Drink. A warm bed—"

"I don’t need anything," I cut in, already turning on my heel to leave the place.

But then—

"If you’re sure you just want to leave..." His voice trailed behind me, casual, almost lazy, "Go ahead, but didn’t you come here to ask for something?"

I paused.

The fire of pride burned hot in my chest—but it was losing to something else.

Shit. What do I do?

That weight pressing behind my ribs. That unbearable throb at the back of my skull. The desperation that had been crawling up my throat since I saw dad. The reason I was even here in the first place.

I clenched my jaw, my fists, my breath.

Then slowly... I turned back around.

Drakkar was still standing there, arms crossed now, one brow raised.

My pride screamed at me to leave. But something deeper—older, rawer—kept me rooted.

Drakkar stood there, arms folded loosely over his chest, a faint smirk still playing on his lips like he had all the time in the world.

I stared at him, heart hammering, teeth gritted. Everything in me screamed to turn back around, to get out of here before he dragged me into another smug exchange I didn’t have the patience for. But the desperation clawing at my chest had already won.

I took a slow breath and stepped closer.

"Do you..." My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard. "Do you know anything about the red-eyed human..." I hesitated. My fists clenched at my sides, trembling slightly. "...My dad," I said finally, like the words tasted like rust on my tongue. "The barkeep said he was here. A week ago."

The smirk on Drakkar’s face faltered, if only slightly.

And for a heartbeat, the tavern noise around us—laughter, clinking mugs, the distant notes of a lute—faded beneath the weight of my question.

My breath caught in my throat as I searched his face. Desperation wasn’t something I let show easily. But I didn’t care anymore. If there was even a shred of truth to what the woman had said—if he had been here—then I wasn’t leaving without answers.

Drakkar leaned his weight lazily against the bar, swirling something amber in a glass that he hadn’t even sipped yet. His eyes flicked to mine, and there was that damn smirk again. The one that always made me want to knock the arrogance clean off his face.

He was enjoying this—my frustration, my desperation.

"I might know something," he said with a shrug.

"Might?" I snapped, stepping forward. "Either you do or you don’t. Give me one straight answer."

Drakkar’s grin widened. He set the glass down and folded his arms. "Let’s just say... I had my people keeping an eye out after the spider-nun incident. A red-eyed human walking around here who wasn’t you? That narrows things down quite a bit, doesn’t it?"

He asked people to keep an eye out for dad?

Why? For me?

My heart did a strange flutter there. But I ignored it.

He gestured toward the barkeep. "So, if she says she saw him, she probably did."

That flicker of hope inside me threatened to explode. I pushed closer, heart pounding. "Then tell me more. Where did he go? Was he alone? What was he doing here—?"

"Whoa, whoa." Drakkar held up a hand, chuckling. "Now we’re getting greedy, aren’t we?"

I stared at him, eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"That information doesn’t come for free," he said casually, as if he were offering me a drink, not dangling my life’s biggest mystery in front of my face.

My hands clenched into fists. "You just said I get a lot of services here for free, didn’t you? Because I’m—what was it—’special’ to you?"

Drakkar laughed, low and smooth, shaking his head. "I said a lot of things are free. But not everything."

He leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming with that familiar infuriating amusement. "Information? That’s the most expensive service of them all."

I grit my teeth. "Why?"

"Because information is power," he said. "And power has to be earned... or traded."

A pause stretched between us. My jaw twitched.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth. "What do you want in return?"

Drakkar’s smirk deepened. He straightened, walking a slow circle around me like a wolf circling prey—not in hunger, but amusement. "Now that’s the right question," he said, voice low and teasing.

He stopped in front of me, leaned down just a little, eyes never leaving mine.

"I have a little task I want my dear little ’Ari’ to complete."

The color drained from my face

Ari?

My female disguise??

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