Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

BLAIR-O-METER: Psycho-Bitch

Blair Drakencrest interrogated a man, got attacked with dark magic, looted the body, and recruited an interrogation team in under four minutes.

She was currently in the dungeon and if she had a dragon, it would be rumbling because she was one pissed off bitch.

On the other side of the soundproof door, Marek Navarre was having the worst morning of his life.

”Hello?”

His voice echoed off stone walls that offered zero sympathy. Warded cuffs. Sack over his head. A chair that was bolted to the floor because Drakencrest’s interrogation chamber was designed by people who assumed every guest would eventually try to throw furniture.

”Hello? Is anyone there?”

Nobody answered because nobody was in the room with him and the door was a one-way soundproof warded door and the only people who could hear him were standing on the other side of it having an argument that was rapidly becoming a committee meeting.

Blair Drakencrest stood with her arms crossed, her back to the interrogation door, and her patience at a number that was about to go negative.

Damon and Brennan were standing against the wall, neither saying a word. Both had just dragged a body for her and were in far too deep to back out now.

Griffin Ironreach was beside her with both hands in the air like a man surrendering to a war he had started by accident. The universal posture of a soldier who had been given one job, which was silence, and had immediately failed it.

”I didn’t TELL him,” Griffin insisted. ”He asked me why I was carrying cuffs at three in the morning and I panicked.”

”You panicked.”

”He has a very intense stare, Blair. It’s like being interrogated by furniture.”

”HE WAS ASLEEP, GRIFFIN. YOU MINDLINKED HIM.”

Sterling Emberfell descended the dungeon stairs with the measured pace of a man who had been woken up, briefed in four words by a guilty subordinate, and had chosen to come downstairs personally instead of mindlinking Maddox because some situations required eye contact and this was one of them.

His hair was perfect. His shirt was tucked. He looked like a man who slept fully dressed and ironed in case of emergency, which was probably accurate and deeply concerning.

Blair looked at Griffin. Griffin’s hands went higher.

”Your plausible deniability lasted exactly eleven minutes,” Blair said.

”Blair, I mindlinked you that I was bringing the cuffs because you said it was life or death and to come alone and to keep my mouth shut. I kept my mouth shut for eleven minutes. That’s growth.”

”Growth is a tree, Griffin. You’re a leak.”

”I’m also the one who brought you the cuffs without asking questions.”

”And then you notified STERLING.”

Griffin’s mouth opened. Closed. His hands stayed in the air because lowering them felt like an admission of something and keeping them up felt like a promise of nothing and he was stuck between the two like a man doing the world’s most pathetic surrender at bladepoint.

”You’re also mad because you’re missing your threesome,” Blair added.

”I am NOT mad about the...” Griffin stopped. Processed. His face went through a journey that started at outrage, traveled through confusion, and parked at a deeply uncomfortable shade of pink. Then he flashed a stupid grin that could have powered the castle. ”They wanted me, Blair. What can I say?”

”I am not putting in a good word for you anymore. You lost that privilege,” Blair snapped.

”BLAIR.”

Sterling arrived at the bottom of the stairs and assessed the scene in one sweep. A mage behind a soundproof door. Princess playing warden. Beta from another kingdom standing in the corner. A mage he vaguely recognized standing beside said Beta. And Griffin, whose hands were still up.

”Blair.” Sterling’s voice was flat as a lake in winter. ”What the hell is going on? This goes against Maddox’s direct orders. He has been building a case on Navarre. You’ve just compromised days of intelligence gathering.”

”The intelligence gathered itself. He attacked me with dark magic in the corridor. I defended myself. He’s cuffed and nobody was harmed.”

”He attacked you.”

”Yes.”

”With dark magic.”

”Yes.”

”And you didn’t mindlink me, or Ryker, or your brother, or literally anyone with combat training.”

”I mindlinked Griffin.”

Sterling looked at Griffin. Griffin’s hands somehow went higher.

”Griffin has a concussion still. I’m going to have to mindlink Maddox.”

”Maddox is asleep.”

”Then I’ll wake him up.”

”He hasn’t slept in four days. He’s in a chair. He has his wife. He’s finally resting. If you wake him up for something I already have under control, I will redecorate your quarters so aggressively you won’t recognize your own bed.”

The threat landed on Sterling like a cruise wrapped in a throw pillow. His jaw tightened by one millimeter. The accent wall. She had been planning it. He could see it in her eyes. Navy was coming for him and the only thing standing between his grey walls and nautical annihilation was his willingness to cooperate right now.

”I have it handled,” Blair said. ”You can all go back to sleep.”

She turned and put her hand on the interrogation door.

Damon and Sterling both stepped forward at the same time. Both opened their mouths at the same time. The synchronized concern of two men from different kingdoms who had independently arrived at the same conclusion, which was that the princess was about to walk into a room with a dark mage and neither of them was going to stand in a corridor and let it happen.

Sterling’s hand landed on the door before Blair could open it. Firm. Flat. The hand of a man whose job description included preventing members of the royal family from doing exactly this.

Blair looked at Sterling’s hand. Then at Sterling.

”Move your hand, High Marshal.”

Sterling didn’t move it. ”This is reckless, Blair. Let me get Jaxon down here. This man has demonstrated dark magic capabilities. He attacked you once. He will do it again. The cuffs suppress but they do not eliminate. Jaxon can put a containment field around the room and then you can ask him whatever you want.”

”Jaxon is asleep.”

”Then I’ll wake Jaxon.”

”You’re going to wake up the entire Keep one person at a time until the interrogation requires a seating chart. No. I’m going in.”

”No. You’re not.”