Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

It took less than one second for the Luminari guards to assess the threat level.

A grey-eyed man was leading the group like he owned the place. Behind him, there were two crowned men with murder in their eyes. Bringing up the rear was a suspiciously happy guy with a blue ball. Flanking him were two armed men, one with luminous breasts and the other with a manhood multiplier.

One of the crowned murder-eyed men spoke first.

”I am King Nicholas Shadowfell of Nyros. I know King Solveil personally. We are here on Crown business of mutual sovereign concern.”

Solveil was a hidden kingdom, which meant there was never a ”visiting sovereign” in the citadel.

So what did all six guards do?

They laughed.

It was not a cruel laugh. It was the laugh of men who had just been told something delightfully absurd by a stranger and were enjoying the delivery too much to be offended by the attempt.

”Right,” the lead guard said. ”And I’m the Queen. State your actual business.”

Nicholas’s wolf made a noise beneath his ribs. The noise was small. Confused. The specific vocal production of a beast that had never, in Nicholas Shadowfell’s entire reign, been laughed at by a doorman and did not know what to do with the information.

It was the first sound the wolf had made since the growling in the war room. The sound was a question. The question was what the fuck.

”Take me to Solveil. Now,” the other crowned man commanded in a tone that suggested that usually worked for him.

The lead guard’s eyebrows rose. ”Sir, I’m going to need you to lower your voice. This part of the citadel is not open to the public. State your actual business or turn around.”

”Alright. We get it. You take yourselves very seriously.” Kael pushed the two spears away from his sternum. ”I was just here. This,” he gestured at Maddox, ”is the High King of Velkaris.”

The lead guard looked at Maddox.

”Yeah, right. Funny.”

Maddox’s eyes flared dragon gold and his dragon made a sound under his ribs, which translated to how dare they.

The beast, who’d been making confused noises for the last thirty minutes, had just graduated from confused to irritated.

”Repeat that. I dare you.”

Beside him, Nicholas’s eyes had gone wolf gold at the same moment. His wolf had also progressed from baffled to insulted, which suggested he had never been denied entry before and was not coping well with the experience.

Before the leader could respond, heavy footsteps rounded the corner.

Another guard, higher level, walking with the brisk purpose of a man newly promoted and determined to earn it. He spotted Kael and his stride slowed.

”Kael?”

Kael turned. Recognized him. His entire face shifted a degree toward something close to warm.

”Hello, Roger. Did you get promoted?”

Roger beamed. ”Yes. As a reward from King Solveil. This is my first shift at the Citadel.”

”Congratulations.”

”Thank you. Now, what seems to be the problem?”

”They are trying to enter the royal wing without providing identification. These two are claiming to be foreign kings. One of them says he knows His Majesty personally,” the lead guard answered.

Roger’s attention swung to Kael like a man checking his answer key.

”Yes. Both the men behind me are kings. They’re here for Guinevere,” Kael confirmed. ”Exactly what they told you.”

SHING.

Six glowing spears snapped back into place at the side of every guard.

”Oh. They want to see Her Majesty,” the lead guard said, voice warm. ”Why didn’t they say so?”

Her Majesty. The title left the guard’s mouth warm and worn in, like he’d been saying it all day and meant it every time.

Nobody in the group commented.

Maddox did not react because Maddox was still processing that his crown had been dismissed. Nicholas did not react to it because he had the sense to recognize that he, of all people, was not in the position to judge that. Kael did not react because Kael had heard Octavian throw out ’My Queen’ more than once with the subtlety of a neon sign.

Ryker and Sterling, however, both had a momentary ’you’ve got that wrong’ expression on their faces.

”She gave me a gold star on my performance review,” the leader added, standing up a little straighter.

Another guard, one who’d pointed a spear directly at Kael’s sternum sixty seconds ago, nodded enthusiastically. ”Me as well. She said my hospitality was warm and welcoming.”

Roger inserted himself into the situation the way a bouncer inserts himself between a VIP and a velvet rope.

”Kael knows King Solveil personally. He’s telling the truth. I’ll escort them.”

Ryker turned his head toward Sterling. Slowly. The turn was the physical embodiment of what the fuck is happening.

Sterling returned the look without a word. The look between them carried the shared realization that Kael was apparently a celebrity, Guinevere was apparently a Luminari folk hero, and both of them had been operating in the wrong kingdom their entire lives if this was the kind of welcome their family members were pulling in foreign ones.

”Of course. Our apologies. We weren’t briefed on arrivals,” the lead guard stated.

Neither king acknowledged the apology.

Roger’s eyes traveled across the group, which included two anatomical anomalies and a glowing crotch on two of them in the back. His first shift at the Citadel was one hour old and already weirder than his entire career at the prison. Guinevere’s people were consistent.

The double doors opened.

Roger turned and led the odd group down the corridor.

The hall stretched ahead of them in white stone and soft radiance, every surface humming at the frequency this kingdom used instead of silence. The group followed. Brennan brought up the rear, still holding his blue ball.

They had made it half the length of the corridor when Commander Veyron rounded the corner. His momentum died the second he saw them, his eyes moving across the group, landing on Nicholas Shadowfell with the specific sharpness of a prosecutor identifying a repeat offender.

Nicholas was unimpressed and not in the mood.

Kael, on the other hand, shifted from irritated to delighted so fast it scared Brennan more than the spears had.

”We meet again, Table Banger. I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”