Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

Guinevere was six the first time she watched her father bribe a man. Most six-year-olds wouldn’t have understood. But she did. Gold in. Silence out.

Fourteen years later, somewhere in Drakencrest Keep, she was sleeping against her husband’s chest. And somewhere in Drakencrest Harbor, an Alpha King just docked.

Thirty wolves. One unmarked ship. Zero flags. The kind of arrival that starts a war or prevents one.

RULE 20: Buy the gatekeeper. Fuck the diplomat. Ignore the general. In that order. Stealth is a currency that appreciates the longer you hold it. By the time you sit down at the table, the gatekeeper is bought, the diplomat is fucked, and you’ve already seen the general’s hand.

A cloaked figure descended the gangplank before the ship was fully moored. The harbormaster met the figure at the end of the dock. The conversation was brief. A sack changed hands. Gold coins, heavy enough to strain the leather.

The cloaked figure returned to the ship and lowered his hood. Thomas Draven, Beta of Lunaris, slid into position at Renwick’s side the way a man returns to a seat he’s never really left.

Renwick surveyed Drakencrest the way a man surveys a chessboard where his opponent has been playing for three weeks without realizing there was a second game running underneath.

Moonlight hit the Keep’s obsidian, rising from the mountain in the distance. The kind of structure that wanted you impressed or intimidated.

Renwick felt neither. He felt the same thing he always felt when looking at power that belonged to another man: opportunity, dressed in patience, waiting for the right door.

Normally, an Alpha King and his Beta wouldn’t both leave their kingdom on the brink of war. Diplomacy was what sons were for. But this time, both of their sons were at home in Lunaris. The business here needed the big dogs and there was no room for fuck ups.

”Should I send word ahead?” Beta Draven asked, his tone suggesting he already knew the answer.

”Not just yet,” Renwick said, his eyes still on the Keep. ”We have an old friend to visit first.”

RULE 21: Old friends are the most useful and the most dangerous men alive. Start with them first every time so they roll over like a good boy. Skip them and they mount you from behind.

✦ ✦ ✦

I am lying on top of someone.

That was the first thought she had.

The scent hit her next. Her wolf knew where she was before her mind accepted it was even possible.

She didn’t open her eyes just yet. Her neck throbbed, but the memory of what happened was fog.

Kael’s voice. She’s my mate. Maddox’s body hitting hers. Then nothing.

The questions poured into her as fast as the anxiety did.

Did he mark me? Is he okay? Did the failsafe fire? Is this my fault?

His lips pressed to the top of her head. The way he used to before the dark magic stole him. The exact same pressure, in the exact same spot, held for the exact same duration.

”Before you panic, we’re married.”

She went rigid above him. ”Where am I? Who are you?”

His hands stopped moving in her hair.

She made sure to hold it for three full seconds before glancing up at him.

Her mouth twitched. ”Kidding.”

The breath that left him could have powered a sail. ”I’m going to kill you.”

”Your face.”

”My face is going to remember this, Guinevere.”

”Worth it.”

She felt the laugh before she heard it. His whole body vibrated beneath her and the sound that followed was so unguarded it made her throat tighten.

”You’re a menace, Wife.”

His hand resumed massaging her scalp, and she felt herself relax into him.

”I was briefed last night,” he said quietly. ”’I’m sorry’ doesn’t begin to cover it, but I am going to say it anyway. I’m sorry, Guinevere. If I’d known, this week would not have happened like it did.”

His fingers moved toward her throat without thinking, tracing the line of her neck toward the mark.

She flinched, a full-body jolt that she couldn’t smother.

His hand stopped. His breathing changed. Neither of them named it. His fingers rerouted to her hair. The rhythm resumed. But the thing that had just passed between them was still in the room, sitting in the corner, waiting.

”The dark magic made me hostile towards you and that must have been terrifying. I’m so sorry, Guinevere. I would take every second of it back if I could. I can’t. What I can do is fix what comes next. And I will.”

He held her tighter. Both arms locked around her body, pulling her so close she could feel his heartbeat. Two rhythms, side by side, unable to feel each other through the connection that was supposed to exist between them, making do with muscle and proximity and the stubborn refusal to let go.

She let out a breath.

”I don’t have my memories back,” he continued. ”But if you give me the chance, I’ll earn every one we make from here.”

”Of course, Maddox,” she whispered.

A smarter woman wouldn’t forgive so quickly. She knew that. But truthfully, she felt relief being in his arms again even if he didn’t remember her. Even without their matebond. Drakencrest felt like home when she was with him.

His chest expanded under her on a long inhale. Then released. She could practically feel the tension leave his body with it, like he’d been bracing for a different answer. Considering this man had glared at her all week, it was kind of adorable in a very messed up way.

”On that note, last night was....” He paused. ”I’m going to say involuntary and we’re both going to accept that.”

He did mark her then. Her neck felt like it.

She let out a small, wet laugh. She was pretty sure Maddox couldn’t help it. It wasn’t the first time.

”But, Gwen. I’m sorry about that too.”

”Maddox. Every time you mark me I have a hard time remembering it. Last night included.”

His chest stopped moving under her. One second. Two. Then his breathing came back, slower, like his lungs were buying his brain time to catch up.

”How many times have I marked you?” he asked, voice steady.

”At least twice. Maybe more.”

He kissed the top of her head one more time. Held it. ”Everything, Guinevere. I’m fixing everything. And I need you to let me.”

She didn’t answer right away. She wasn’t sure what would come out of her mouth if she did.

His thumb stilled in her hair, waiting.

”It’s okay, Maddox,” she finally said. ”I understand.”

His thumb resumed its rhythm. She let out a breath, and felt her body relax into him.

”Did they mention you were supposed to be comatose right now?” she whispered.

”Thoroughly,” he replied flatly. ”I didn’t coma. Moving on.”

”You don’t know that for certain. It could still—”

”No.” His voice was quiet and final. ”The era of protecting me is over. I am harder to kill than everyone keeps assuming.” He kissed her hair. ”You have been carrying weight that should have never been on your shoulders in the first place. Let me take it from you, baby.”

A shudder ran through her. The kind that happens when a body hears permission to stop and almost can’t, because stopping feels more dangerous than continuing.

One tear escaped before she could catch it. It hit his chest.

His arms tightened around her so fast she lost her breath.

”You’re stuck with me. Mine.”