Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

A rescue party of men who had never once in their lives been told no was assembling in real time for a woman who did not want to be rescued and had sent her apologies.

”Absolutely not,” Blair cut into the conversation, her gold eyes raking over the three geniuses who had just volunteered for the ”rescue.”

Beta Draven leaned back in his chair. He had prevented kings from doing dumb shit on more than one occasion, and this fit squarely into that category. ”The princess is correct. Three kings arriving unannounced in Solveil’s private chambers to collect a woman from an angry king who just woke up from a coma is the geopolitical equivalent of punching a hornet’s nest then telling the hornets to calm down.”

Silence.

Nobody argued with the metaphor because the metaphor was bulletproof. The three men it described heard it, respected it, and immediately went back to planning the thing the metaphor told them not to do.

Next.

Damon, who had been reading a file and ignoring the testosterone, set it down.

”Let me walk you through what Veyron sees. His case collapsed. His king woke up and tore through his building. Now three foreign monarchs walk through his front door unannounced. That’s a gift-wrapped provocation.”

Sterling’s eyes moved to Damon.

”Understood. My decision remains.” Maddox’s eyes swept the war room. ”Ryker, with me.”

”I’ll be going as well, Commander,” Sterling said immediately.

No one argued. Medical advice can go fuck itself.

Kael looked at the assembled group. ”Great lineup. Two kings with separation anxiety, a man with three knots on his skull, a guy waving an empty flask, and me. We’re going to walk into the most advanced magical civilization alive and carry a glowing woman back with us. A woman that Solveil has no intention of letting go. This is going to go wonderfully. I can feel it.”

Nicholas looked at Brennan, the way a general selects the soldier.

Brennan sat up straighter, chest puffing out. ”Consider it done, Alpha.”

”Make sure he eats something first. He hasn’t had anything all day,” Damon commented, without looking up from the file he was reading.

Before Nicholas could say anything, there was a knock on the door. Griffin answered it and returned with a tray that he placed in front of Brennan.

On the tray was a wrapped sandwich cut into triangles, chips arranged in a circle, a glass of apple juice with a swirly straw, animal crackers, a chocolate chip cookie, and a wedge of cheese with a tiny Drakencrest flag stuck in it.

Nicholas glanced up at Maddox, who had clearly already mindlinked to have food delivered. Maddox met his gaze. No words were needed. They were on the same page.

Brennan didn’t hesitate, taking a big bite of one of the sandwich triangles.

Griffin stared at the meal, longingly. ”How is it?”

Brennan gave him a thumbs up as he took another bite.

”Nobody cuts mine into triangles. I get squares. Squares, Ryker. Like an animal,” Griffin remarked, unable to look away.

Ryker looked at Sterling, who shrugged.

”Griffin has not earned triangles. Griffin earned squares. Squares are for men who slow-clap during combat operations,” Sterling pointed out.

”Harsh.”

”Accurate.”

”Both.”

”I can hear you,” Griffin called from across the table as he watched Brennan pop an animal cracker into his mouth.

”Let it motivate you towards triangle-level performance,” Sterling offered.

Blair glanced up from her file, her focus locked onto Sterling.

”Is he alright?”

”He woke up like this,” Ryker replied.

What came next had nothing to do with triangles.

”When we arrive, I have unfinished business with the Kingsguard Commander,” Kael announced. ”Commander Veyron, also known as Table Banger in the Luminari community, never apologized or showed his face. I want a full apology from him to me.”

Maddox dragged a hand down his face. ”We are getting my wife. Then we are leaving, Kael. That’s it.”

Ryker pointed at Kael. ”Nope. Stop. Rewind. Play it again slower. YOU want an apology? You.”

”Yes. ME,” Kael fired back, unimpressed and unamused. ”I was in prison, Ryker. Have you been to prison? No. Let me tell you what it’s like. For eight hours, I was in a foreign prison where they barely spoke the common tongue. No food. No water. No legal representation. Gangs in the yard. All I had was a cot and a thin blanket. They all wanted me. My face is too good looking for prison.”

”And my wife,” Maddox snapped.

”I want an apology from him too,” Nicholas cut in. ”They scared Guinevere twice. One of his men held a blade to my throat.”

Kael and Maddox started talking at the same time the way two trains enter the same tunnel from opposite ends.

Meanwhile, Brennan picked up his apple juice and took a sip through the swirly straw, listening to the war room briefing like this was standard operating procedure.

Across from him, Reed stared at the tray like a man watching someone else fuck his wife, except the wife was a triangle sandwich and the someone else was a mage with a swirly straw who looked happier than anyone in this room had a right to be.

Reed: Drakencrest mindlinked for a goddamn kids meal to his war room.

Damon looked up from the file he was reading and glanced over at the tray.

Damon: Drakencrest learned from the first time we needed Brennan to portal us.

Reed: The one over an ocean?

Damon: Yes. That time. It took Brennan forty minutes to eat.

Reed: And a kids meal helps because...

Damon: Triangles cut chewing time. Swirly straw increases fluid intake by making hydration entertaining. Chips for salt. Cookie for morale. Drakencrest is running Brennan like an asset.

Reed: Oh, he’s good. Smarter than he lets on.

Damon: Yes, we’ve established this already. He doesn’t fuck around.

Reed: Look, Nicholas is watching the straw.

At the far end of the table, Nicholas was watching Brennan chug his apple juice with a look of approval on his face.