Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

On one side of the ring, two kings stood like designer bodyguards for their mate. On the other stood a woman whose real age was unknown, and who’d been one degree away from everyone watching: engaged, mothered, chamber-redecorated, or stalker-mailed.

Emma looked at the three of them. Looked at the ring. Looked at her hands, where the dark magic was rebuilding with the enthusiasm of something that had been starving and just heard a heartbeat. It coiled around her fingers in black and violet, delighted.

”Well,” she said, rolling her neck. ”Your choice. If one of them dies, this is on you.”

Emma’s hands shot forward and dark magic poured from her palms in twin streams locked on the two kings standing next to Guinevere, because if you’re going to start a fight you might as well start with the expensive ones.

White shields snapped around Maddox and Nicholas simultaneously. Both men had already been glowing. But apparently that wasn’t enough.

The dark magic hit the shields and dispersed. Harmless. Neutralized. Both kings stood inside their protective bubbles, untouched, unharmed, and completely unable to participate in the fight happening three feet in front of them.

They could see everything. They could do nothing. This was the supernatural equivalent of watching someone parallel park a carriage and not being allowed to help.

”Brilliant,” Emma said, gesturing at the two shielded kings. ”You brought backup and then benched them. Strategic genius. Really.”

Maddox’s dragon was demanding they go to therapy after this and he couldn’t blame the beast. He pressed his hands against the inside of his shield. The light held. His gold flame erupted from both palms. The flame hit the shield wall and went nowhere. He was sealed inside his wife’s protection like an action figure in a display case labeled ”do not touch” that did not care if the dragon had feelings. Guinevere, or whatever was running Guinevere, also did not care. The only thing in this room that cared about the dragon’s feelings was the dragon, and the dragon was outvoted.

”Gwen. I can’t hit her from in here,” he roared from behind his bubble.

Guinevere didn’t respond. Her gold eyes stayed on Emma. The shields stayed up.

Nicholas pushed against his. Same result. She had let him into the ring and then locked him inside a protective shell, which meant his role in this fight was apparently to stand here and be safe and the wolf king of an entire continent had big feelings on that. Feelings that would, under normal circumstances, manifest as anger. These were not normal circumstances.

He turned his head towards Guinevere. When he spoke, his voice was calmer than Maddox’s, as if he knew something that no one else did.

”Guinevere, remove this shield. Give me your light. Let me protect you.”

POP.

The bubble shield around him went poof. Maddox stared at Nicholas, who was a free man now. Then at his own bubble. Not understanding why or the methods of how Nicholas had achieved that. The betrayal was written on his face.

Nicholas was already lifting his palms.

Their matebond was flooding him with her urgency, her focus, her determination, and absolutely none of the access required to be useful.

White light blasted from his hands in a concentrated beam that hit Emma. The force of it drove her backward, boots carving fresh grooves into the stone, her arms coming up to absorb the impact.

He had walked in with wolf strength and no magic, and was now firing Luminari light from his palms like he’d been doing it his whole life. His learning curve was a vertical line.

Guinevere shoved her light at Emma with him, both at the same time, while Maddox stayed in his bubble absolutely fuming with his dragon at the surface and his brother took a mental snapshot of this image. For science. For blackmail. For joy.

Emma caught herself. Skidding. Breathing hard. The grin returned, wider than before, and the width carried the specific delight of a woman who had just collected a piece of information she valued more than safety.

She clapped. Three times. Slow. The applause echoed off the vaulted ceiling with the theatrical appreciation of a woman watching a show she had paid to see.

”She marked you then.” Emma’s eyes moved from Nicholas to the gold still rippling across his skin. ”Two brothers and a wolf. Three marks. Three matebonds. One girl.” She laughed. ”I take it back. I’m impressed. That’s not a love triangle. That’s one hell of a quadrilateral.”

Nicholas’s hands were still raised, still blasting white light. ”You talk too much.”

”You want your enemy talking, Little Wolf,” Emma fired back. ”You are very handsome. And magical now. Your lucky day. That is useful to me. What is your name again? Snowball or Scooby or something?”

”Read the room, lady. I am not interested,” Nicholas gritted.

”Fine. You don’t want to tell me, then I’m calling you Biscuit.”

Dark magic erupted from Emma again in a concussive blast that made the previous attacks look like warning shots. The full force of it, black and violet and threaded with something that pulsed like a heartbeat, streamed across the ring toward Guinevere.

Maddox watched Nicholas fire more white light from his palms, protecting Guinevere. Looked at his own bubble. Looked at Nicholas again. Looked at the bubble.

Eureka moment.

”Guinevere. Let me out of this goddamn bubble. And give me the white light too so I can protect you,” he demanded.

POP.

The bubble vanished. His palms raised and he started blasting. The Dragon King did not pause for reflection. He had been reflecting inside that bubble for long enough to fuel a lifetime of action.

”And he figured it out.” Kael slow-clapped from outside the ring on account of his brother learning how to talk while white magic continued to pour from his hands into Sterling through zero effort of his own.

Yes, he was simultaneously saving a man’s life and roasting his brother and had made peace with that.