Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

”She will do no such THING.” Grimscar’s voice cut through the noise like a shotgun blast in a library. ”The ritual was performed correctly. The map answered. Demanding a redo because you didn’t like the result is a disgrace to this council and every Alpha who built it.”

”A DISGRACE?” Veilcross whipped towards Grimscar. ”You want to talk about disgrace? A woman just turned the entire continental map into her COLORS. A WOMAN. That means a non-Alpha. That is against wolf law. Every tradition this summit was built on just got—”

”Got what, Veilcross?” Ashfang stood, all four wives’ rings glinting as his fist hit the table. ”Proven right? The map doesn’t lie. It has never lied. You’ve sat in that chair for nine summits and trusted it every single time. Now it says something you don’t like and suddenly the map is broken?”

”THE MAP LIT WHITE AND GOLD. Wolf territories don’t light two colors.”

”They do now.”

Three voices at once. Then five. Then the chamber melted into the kind of argument reserved for hundreds of armed men who all just simultaneously decided they were the smartest motherfuckers in the room.

Tokens started coming out of the table.

Veilcross yanked his first. The map stayed lit. Then all three of the Alphas who had backed Stonehowl earlier, all still in emotional support mode. Three Alphas pulled their tokens at the same time. Three territories stayed gold. Three grown men looked at each other with the shared bewilderment of men who had just been told ”no” and were not liking the experience.

More followed, men pulling their tokens from the slots like men unplugging from a machine they no longer trusted.

”I PULLED MY TOKEN. WHY IS MY TERRITORY STILL LIT?” An Alpha stared at his empty slot like it owed him child support.

One Alpha pulled his token, held it up, looked at the still-glowing map, and put it back in. Pulled it out again. Still glowing. ”This is broken.”

Ironmaw pulled his token and the gold stayed. He put it back in. Pulled it out again. Put it in. Pulled it. The map didn’t care how many times he did the Hokey Pokey with his token.

Nicholas Shadowfell dragged a hand down his face.

The gesture was so human, so visibly exhausted, so completely at odds with the man who had entered this summit looking like the final boss, that Reed and Damon exchanged a glance behind him that communicated a full paragraph of concern.

The chamber was still erupting. Accusations were bouncing off the stone walls. Two Alphas were nose to nose in the third row. A Beta was physically restraining his Alpha from approaching the table, which was a career move that either deserved a medal or a coffin depending on how the next ten seconds went.

”ENOUGH.”

Nicholas didn’t yell. His voice just occupied the room in a way that left no space for anything else. Every mouth closed. Every body stilled. The acoustics carried the single word into every corner and let it sit there like a weight.

”She will go again.”

He pulled his token out of the map. Shocker, his territory stayed lit.

He wouldn’t meet Guinevere’s eye. He was looking at his territory like it had betrayed him by staying lit.

Every pair of eyes snapped to Guinevere.

It took her a moment to realize why. She had been watching everyone else, she hadn’t pulled her own token yet.

”Oh. Right.” Hand trembling, she pulled the Lunaris token out of the slot. The map immediately went dark. ”Of course. I understand. We can do it again.”

She did understand. They all were very upset and she wasn’t about to mess with their traditions.

Darwin Blackmoor stared at the dead map, then at his token, then at Guinevere. ”I need a drink.”

”Different blade,” Veilcross insisted. ”And she goes FIRST. Before any of us. Clean table. No other blood. No other tokens. If the map is responding to her, then it responds to her alone. No interference.”

”Agreed,” Ironmaw said.

”Agreed,” Darwin added, shooting Benjamin a look that could sterilize a breeding pair.

DOMINO 48: BRING THE HORSE BACK (THEY SAID)

GREYHALL CROSSING - COUNCIL CHAMBER - 8:46 PM

Nicholas exhaled through his nose. He sheathed his own ceremonial dagger, a blade that had been in the Shadowfell line for longer than most packs had existed, and slid it across the table to her.

The sound of steel on wood was the only sound in the chamber.

Every Alpha who had removed their token was watching. A woman with a borrowed dagger, a borrowed cape, and a borrowed seat, about to perform a ritual for the second time using a ’borrowed’ token from her brother.

Guinevere picked up the blade.

It was heavier than Gavyn’s. Older. The handle was dark leather worn smooth by generations of Shadowfell blood and the weight of it in her palm felt like holding a piece of a legacy she had no connection to.

The blade vibrated in her hand the second it cleared the sheath. Runes flared gold along the handle. She blinked, surprised. Across the table, Nicholas Shadowfell was having a visible malfunction. His eyes were locked on his family blade.

The Alphas around the table lost their shit immediately.

”Nope.” Darwin Blackmoor pushed to his feet. ”Didn’t he say she’s his fated mate? He’s helping her cheat. What’s next, his chair lights up when she parks her ass in it? New blade. Not his. Right now.”

”He did,” Alpha Veilcross confirmed. ”Everyone heard it, Shadowfell. Don’t try denying it.”

Nicholas gave him a flat, unimpressed look. ”I’m not denying anything. And I just used that blade myself.”

”And now it’s glowing,” Veilcross snapped. ”She’s using one from the Stonehowl side of the chamber.”

Darwin Blackmoor sheathed his own blade and shoved it across the table. She unsheathed it. No light. No vibration. Just a clunky, lifeless hunk of metal that felt completely wrong in her hand.

The table leaned in.

She sliced. Clean cut. Blood welled immediately onto the token.

She placed the token in the slot.

Lunaris detonated immediately.

No making her wait. Thank fuck.

A second went by.

Then the entire map lit together in one pulse of white.

Gold borders snapped around each territory.

The light was brighter than the first time. Bright enough that Alphas were now squinting.

The chamber didn’t erupt this time.

The chamber didn’t do anything.

Hundreds of wolves sat in a room made of light and absolute silence, staring at a map that had just answered a question nobody had asked with a response that nobody had a framework for.

Darwin Blackmoor sat down slowly. His mouth was open. He did not close it.

Benjamin didn’t look at his brother. He didn’t need to. The bet was settled so thoroughly that acknowledging it was beneath him.

Veilcross, who had demanded this, who had insisted on a clean table and a different blade and her going first, was gripping the edge of the table with both hands like the wood was the only thing keeping him from falling out of his chair.

Nicholas Shadowfell was openly watching her. No longer bothering to hide it.

”Oh, right,” she said, just remembering she still had his dagger.

She slid it back to him across the table. The hilt lit up in answer the second it touched the glowing map.

Without a word, she slid Darwin’s dagger back to him. His did not ignite in answer.

The Alphas stared like she’d just committed a crime.