If Riley's death could have a sound, it would be the thud of his knees hitting the floor the moment his little brother accidentally sold him out.
And for the closing note, right as his soul perished and everything he was would fade into dust, the sound would surely be someone scoffing, "Oh, really?"
Yes. That would be it.
Because if he'd been betrayed to a demon, at least it would have been understandable. Poetic, even.
But no.
What was he supposed to do when he was sold straight to his boss, the mighty and utterly insane dragon lord?
Riley collapsed against the polished, overpriced flooring, worming his way under the same safety blanket the children had used earlier. Pathetic as it was, maybe it would buy him two more seconds of life before his inevitable demise.
And anyone with siblings would understand. Survival sometimes depended less on your own skill and more on how much damage your willful siblings decided to do.
Like now.
