Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

The historical tour, by the local expert who’d been here exactly one other time, did not stop.

”Up front, we are approaching the Citadel,” Brennan announced to no one and everyone.

The Citadel was directly in front of them. It was the size of a mountain. It was glowing. It was the only building for three blocks in that direction. Pointing it out was approximately as useful as pointing out the sky.

Nobody told him to stop.

Ryker was listening. Ryker was pretending he wasn’t. The pretending was obvious because Ryker had slowed his pace by half a step to stay in auditory range and his coin had stopped flipping between his fingers because flipping produced sound and sound would interfere with reception.

Maddox was also listening and pretending he wasn’t. His head was angled forward with the determined focus of a king on a mission.

”Observe the openings,” Brennan continued, pointing at the balconies on the citadel. ”Exposed. This tells us the Luminari have no natural predators. Every dwelling unit has an elevated outdoor platform as well. As you can see, a few are even standing on their platforms currently, absorbing light.”

A Luminari man eyeballed Brennan, then turned and walked in the opposite direction from where he had been going, clearly deciding that whatever circus Brennan was running, he wanted no ticket, no seat, and no eye contact.

”The adult male has clocked our presence and chosen avoidance over confrontation. A classic non-aggression display in isolated civilizations. Note the increased stride length. He is communicating that he poses no threat and expects the same courtesy. Beautiful, really.”

The man did not look beautiful. The man looked like he had somewhere else to be and had just added that destination to his itinerary on the fly.

”And THAT,” Brennan announced, pointing at the building like he’d discovered it, ”is a nesting tower. Multiple openings on each level. The Luminari clearly stack their families vertically.”

Ryker tilted his hand side to side, the universal ’ehhhh’ gesture that precedes a correction nobody’s going to enjoy. ”We do that too. Every building with more than one floor technically does that.”

”Yes, but not like this. The height serves a mating purpose. The tallest structure attracts the most residents. It’s a display. Like plumage. The building IS the peacock, gentlemen.”

Ryker’s head seesawed once and a sound came out that wasn’t a word but communicated ’that’s not it, buddy’ in every language.

Sterling’s eyes tracked a load-bearing arch above a side entrance. His head tilted. His concussed brain ran the geometry at seventy percent speed and still arrived at the conclusion before most men would arrive at it fully operational.

”Those cantilevers aren’t holding that weight on their own. They’ve got tension anchors buried in the stone column behind them. You can see where the grain is working against gravity instead of with it. That is a very good trick.”

Brennan clutched his chest. ”STERLING. YES. THANK YOU. The tension anchoring is doing eighty percent of the structural work and the cantilevers get all the aesthetic credit. I need a moment.”

Sterling glanced at Brennan the way a man glances at a tool that he’d dismissed once but couldn’t have been more wrong about. He gave a nod, for the second time in the night. The nod cost him nothing. It was worth everything to the man receiving it.

”Up next on our observational tour,” Brennan continued, his chest two inches wider than it had been thirty seconds ago, ”a juvenile Luminari male appears to be transporting a baked good in his left hand. The structural integrity of the pastry suggests a flour-to-water ratio that favors chewiness over flake. A culinary tradition I would love to document further if time permits.”

The juvenile glanced at Brennan. The juvenile walked faster. The juvenile’s mother grabbed his free hand and pulled him across the street.

”The maternal unit has intervened. Classic protective behavior. Note the lateral extraction. The young one is now safely across the thoroughfare and the pastry remains intact. A win for both parties.”

Kael dragged a hand down his face. ”Brennan.”

”Yes, Sir?”

”Nothing.”

Nicholas said nothing because Nicholas understood and had made peace with the fact that Brennan Pike narrated on occasion.

The base of the Citadel staircase came into view.

So did a group of Luminari women.

”Now THIS is fascinating,” Brennan announced, slowing the group’s pace without permission. ”Observe the female Luminari. Notice anything? Yes, Ryker. You noticed. They don’t glow.”

”I didn’t say anything,” Ryker said flatly.

Brennan didn’t seem to hear him.

”The MALES glow. The females do NOT. This is a species where the male is the peacock. The display animal. HE glows to attract HER. She doesn’t need to glow because...” He gestured to the group of women they were currently walking by, who were ten feet away and could absolutely hear.

They turned as the group approached, every pair of eyes locked onto Brennan Pike.

”They are beautiful and have no need to glow,” he explained. ”And that is why the Luminari are obsessed with my Luna. She is the only woman who glows.”

The women waved. Simultaneously. In the specific way that women wave at a thing they have collectively decided is adorable and are no longer going to be subtle about.

One of them whispered something to the woman beside her and both of them laughed behind their hands. Another one tilted her head and bit her lower lip. A third one straightened her posture in a way that was anatomically specific and strategically deployed.

”Hello. Lovely evening,” Brennan called back, waving with the hand that held the glowing ball Ryker had bought him.

The women giggled.

Ryker looked at the group of women and followed their train of sight twice because he didn’t believe it. Then he stopped walking.

Sterling stopped walking next to him.

Both men turned their heads in unison, a triple check for Ryker, tracking the women, then tracking Brennan, then tracking the women again. The circuit took approximately four seconds and produced identical expressions of bewilderment on two very different faces.

”I am watching it happen and I don’t know what is happening,” Ryker stated.

Brennan blew one of the women a kiss with his ball hand. The woman caught it, pressed it to her chest, and blew him one right back.