Sarn's pain fills the room like a heavy shroud. He's angry and desolate. I know some of the story that brought him to this point. He grieves for his dead bride and he did something to upset the other dragons. I have no clue what it is. I head back into the kitchen and fill two more plates with the leftover food from the stove.

I sit Sarn's fresh plate of pork and rice in front of him. "Sorry," I mutter before meeting his eyes. "I have a temper and the easiest way to bring it ...