Page 17 of Draco's Fire

Tyson felt his face growing hot with embarrassment and rage. He was starting to lose his cool.

"HOPE has helped clear a way for dragons and the paranormal to live in the world without fear. We slash rumors that are made, and we correct the misinformation that is spread about all abnormalities. We promote equality. The equality that you all agree that we deserve. My organization needs assistance, and I'm not asking lightly."

Janus spoke up, "Are you here to tell us about your organization, or are you pleading for help here, Tyson." He laughed, mocking Tyson once more.

Tyson looked towards Conlan, who seemed to be the only one with a level head during the conversation. Tyson frowned, "I don't ask lightly."

Conlan blew a hot breath, and Tyson stood his ground. His blood was boiling as Conlan shook his head.

"We can not assist you, Tyson."

"Why not!" Tyson yelled now, his hands in tight fists at his waist.

"You expect us to help you when you strongly believe in pacifism?"

Adair snorted now, "Come on, Tyson, think about this. We can't help you with this. Everyone would think we believe that never using violence is the answer."

Tyson shook his head, "I'm just asking you to assist in this. I'm not asking you to fucking bow your head to them and beg. I know that you guys have influence over them."

"You are asking us to bow our heads." Doir spoke up with a sharper tone, "How do you expect us to get them to agree? Do you think we can just ask, and they will willingly accept? Tyson, they will want something in return."

Tyson frowned. He never thought that far. He was worried about asking. He was concerned that if he didn't use the right words, they would never accept his request.

"Your request is denied."

"What am I supposed to do?" Tyson growled, frustrated.

"Unless you want them squashed, we advise you to keep your cool." Kalare smirked, "Since you're so good at it."

Tyson clenched his jaw, tasting blood in his mouth. He was pissed. He knew several times where his foundation had helped them in need, and yet they weren't willing to help him now. He would remember this.

"That's it? You're just going to refuse without even bothering to think about it?"

"We don't need to." Adair spoke up, "Your request is not worth our time, Tyson. If you don't want them interfering with your life, do something about it. You're a dragon, for god's sake. Behave like one."

Tyson stormed away, having enough of them. He stormed back down the stairs, wanting to shift and rip apart the island. He wanted so badly to just allow his dragon form to take him.

But he thought of all the terrible things his dragon had done. He thought of all the deaths that were on his hands. He knew that allowing his true form to take control wasn't the answer.

He knew that there was no way to have a world without some sort of violence. He wasn't an idiot, but that didn't mean he couldn't work towards one like that. He wanted a world where violence wasn't the first answer to someone's problem.

He thought the elders would help him, but he had been mistaken. He should have known they wouldn't be much help.

He stopped in the middle of the stairs, still hearing them laughing behind him. It boiled his blood. He knew he had power, a very strong power that he could use to make things go the way he wanted, but he didn't want to use it.

Tyson saw what happened when he allowed his power out. It murdered people, and it hurt innocent bystanders. He never wanted that to happen again. He never wanted someone's death on his hands when the answer could have been something so simple.

Tyson took a deep breath in, calming the storm that had been brewing. As much as he was settling himself, he knew that his willpower was starting to weaken, and if he didn't find something soon, it could possibly snap.

Twelve

Shayla

Shayla looked at Tyson with a frustrated expression. She was growing tired of this conversation because it seemed they were just going in circles. "Ok, for once, just stop arguing with me and just take what I'm offering you."

Tyson scowled, crossing his arms across his chest. "No. I do not need to have all of these people in my home. I don't need their foot marks all over my wood floors."

"Fucking forget about the damn floor," Shayla yelled back, throwing her arms up. "I'm trying to figure out your protection, now stop acting like a fucking five-year-old and tell me where I can place my men! Because if you don’t I will just place them and you won’t like where they land."

---