Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

Guinevere Lunaris had done a lot of questionable shit tonight. Played dead in a dungeon. Robbed a prince. Armed a Keep.

What she was about to do took the fucking cake.

Tyler Draven had taken a blade through the chest to save her life and was being carried away.

She didn’t think. Thinking was a privilege for people who weren’t watching their Beta die.

”GUINEVERE. LOOK AT ME. I’M COMING! JUST WAIT— FUCK!”

Kael was cutting through cum-chanting demons to reach her. Twenty between them.

”GUINEVERE, DON’T. DON’T YOU FUCKING— GUINEVERE!”

She jumped off the wall. Full sprint with an arrow in hand. Full strength. Something she had never done in front of her pack to her knowledge.

Thirty feet of empty air.

Bullseye.

She hit the motherfucker in the back like a pissed-off monkey mid-tantrum. Yes, she was tackling a flying demon that wanted to fuck her to save her Beta. There was no version of this that wasn’t batshit.

But she was one pissed off bitch.

It screamed.

”THE VESSEL IS NOT PURE! SHE IS ATTACKING ME, BROTHERS!”

She drove her arrow into the creature’s left eye with her full weight behind it.

The Dark Fae lurched. She grabbed the arrow shaft like a steering wheel and wrenched its head hard right. The thing banked involuntarily, turning back towards the wall because its flight mechanics followed its skull whether it liked it or not.

”DROP HIM,” she commanded, her voice carrying across the rampart with an authority that did not match the insanity of her current position, which was riding a demon through the air while removing its vision in real time.

Every head snapped towards her, wolf and Dark Fae.

”THE VESSEL DOES NOT COMMAND. THE VESSEL RECEIVES. THE VESSEL OPENS. THE VESSEL—”

”SHUT THE FUCK UP.” She glanced at the warriors. ”CATCH HIM.”

They didn’t need to be told twice.

She drove the arrow deeper. It screeched and its claws opened. Tyler’s limp body fell fifteen feet. Warriors were ready for him, catching him before he hit the ground.

The second Dark Fae that had been carrying him dove for her. She kicked it in the face from the back of the one she was riding, which was a sentence that belonged in a fever dream and was currently her actual life.

”GARRISON,” she ordered at the fighters gaping from the wall. ”NOW. Move him.”

Half of them said ”Yes, Princess” while the other half said ”Yes, Luna” but she didn’t have time to process that.

They moved Tyler to the stairwell out of sight.

The Dark Fae beneath her was dying. Its wings were failing, the beats growing erratic, the altitude dropping. She needed off.

Every wolf on the wall was locked on the spectacle. Men who’d watched her get whipped last night were currently watching her hitch a ride on a Dark Fae and drive an arrow through its skull. The mental gap between those two versions of her was a canyon, and their brains were currently free-falling into it.

It crashed into the rampart wall. She rolled free, hitting the stone hard, shoulder first, momentum carrying her into a merlon.

Pain detonated across her back where the lash wounds reopened and she bit through her lip to keep from screaming.

”GUINEVERE. DON’T MOVE. DON’T YOU FUCKING MOVE. I’M COMING, BABY.”

She didn’t hear him. Her heart was pounding. What was paralyzing fear a moment ago was something else entirely. Pure hatred. She did not ’hate’ anything until right now. She hated these fucks with a fury that she didn’t fully understand but didn’t question. It sat in a place that felt like muscle memory for a fight she couldn’t remember having.

”DON’T. Whatever you’re about to do, DON’T. I’m right here. Thirty seconds. STAY.”

She was on her feet in three seconds.

”GUINEVERE, I SWEAR ON MY LIFE, IF YOU DO ONE MORE THING BEFORE I GET THERE—”

Another Dark Fae was banking back towards the wall. It had a wolf fighter in its claws, a young man she recognized. Armon.

She grabbed an arrow from the ground. It would do. Rinse and repeat.

”YOU STAY ON THAT WALL. GUINEVERE. YOU DON’T JUMP. YOU DO NOT MOVE.”

She charged and leapt with zero hesitation on her end. This one was too far. Whoops.

Luckily, one was flying below, minding its own business, chanting about the vessel. ”Fertile vessel, pretty vessel, we’ll trade this mutt for a taste of your—”

She landed on its shoulders and it bucked.

”BAD VESSEL. BAD! Brothers, I am compromised. The vessel has MOUNTED me!”

She jumped off it, already catching the Dark Fae that had Armon, and was climbing before it knew she was there.

Arrow in the eye.

”I can’t see. I CAN’T SEE. Why can’t I— oh. Oh, that’s an arrow. This is not the penetration I was promised.”

”TO THE WALL,” she demanded.

”BROTHERS. HELP. SHE’S STEERING ME. I AM BEING STEERED. BY THE VESSEL. SHE IS A MEAN VESSEL!”

She twisted the arrow left. It banked left. She twisted right. It banked right. Steering a Dark Fae with an arrow in its eye socket was disgusting, effective, and something she was adding to exactly zero future conversations.

”WALL. NOW.”

”The wall has archers. The archers have arrows. I already have an arrow. I don’t need MORE arrows—”

She twisted harder. It screamed and dove toward the rampart.

”DROP him.”

”Drop the mutt? He’ll splat. Vessel wants a wolf pancake? Strange kink but I don’t judg—”

”We’re ten feet above the wall. DROP HIM OR I TAKE THE OTHER EYE.”

Its claws opened. Armon’s body fell ten feet onto the rampart where two fighters caught him mid-drop and dragged him behind a merlon.

Good. Her turn.

She ripped the arrow out, kicked the thing in the face, and threw herself off. Freefall. Wind. The wall rushing up to meet her and no plan for the landing because she’d used all her plans getting up here.

Kael caught her at the edge. One arm around her waist, the other bracing the merlon, his body pivoting to absorb her momentum. Her back hit his chest. His arm tightened. The world stopped moving.

His breath was ragged against her hair. His heart was slamming against her spine. His arm did not loosen.

”Fuck me. You jumped off a wall.” His voice was destroyed. ”Twice. You jumped off a wall and rode a goddamn Dark Fae.”