Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 127

Chapter 127: The Alpha Who Said I’m Coming For You

The sight of her stole his breath clean.

Without hesitation, Nicholas closed the distance and crushed her against his chest. Her scent hit him like a drug, but beneath it lingered the unmistakable bite of salt.

He pulled back, finding her eyes. Tears. A sharp pang twisted in his chest.

She looked away from him. "I missed you."

"Hey," he whispered. "I’m coming for you, and when I do, I’m never letting you go. You’re supposed to be next to me here."

"Nick, I—we—"

The words barely left her mouth before he lifted her off the ground. He didn’t realize he did it until her legs were wrapped around his waist and their lips were an inch apart. For a second, neither of them moved. Then she started kissing him like she was starving. He groaned into her mouth, hands gripping her ass as he walked her backward until her back hit the wall.

His hips moved, grinding on her as his wolf howled in victory.

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

Her legs tightened around him and the friction alone almost ended him. He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard, trying and failing to slow down.

"Nick," she whispered, rolling her hips against him.

"Tell me this is real," he said.

She kissed him instead of answering, which should have been his first warning.

He unbelted his trousers, enough to free himself, pulled her dress aside, and thrust into her in one hard stroke.

"Fuck, you’re so tight for me," he groaned, pushing deeper until he was fully seated. "That’s it, baby. Take every inch."

He kept pumping into her, hips snapping, lost in the tight heat of her body as she clenched around him.

But then he noticed her wolf was at the surface and he couldn’t tell if she was fighting for control or if she wanted it.

"Guinevere—"

She gasped as her body began spasming around him in tight, rhythmic waves that milked him mercilessly. The sensation was too much, bringing him over the edge instantly. He came hard, flooding her with thick, powerful spurts of his release while his body refused to slow down.

He didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t. This felt so right. He could sense how close she was to shattering around him again through their matebond.

"Don’t fight it," he rasped against her ear. "Let go for me."

"Nicholas—"

She was right there, trembling on the edge, when thick black smoke exploded into the room. Nicholas swore violently, pulling out of her, and reached for his blade in one frantic motion.

"Stay behind me!" he shouted.

Every torch in the room went out simultaneously, plunging them into total darkness.

A high-pitched scream cut through the black.

Nicholas whipped around but couldn’t see her. "GUINEVERE!"

He groped desperately in the darkness. "Guinevere! Answer me."

"Nicho—" Her voice cut off mid-word with a sickening crunch, followed by a warmth that sprayed across his hands and face.

"No!" The word ripped out of him. "No, no, no."

He dove into the smoke, hands outstretched, feeling around for her. The air burned his lungs. He inhaled it anyway because air was how he screamed and screaming was how he found her.

"GUINEVERE!"

He screamed it again and again, each time hoarser, each time more desperate, choking on smoke between syllables. He kept going because stopping meant losing her and he would suffocate on her name before he let that happen.

His wolf howled inside his skull, pulling him through the dark, following the thread that connected them across any distance, through any smoke, through any blood, through any version of hell the universe constructed to keep him from reaching her.

Then he found her in the dark. Cold skin. His hands found her face. Temple. Cheekbone. Jaw. Then lower, where his fingertips caught on a gash across her throat so deep the blood was still pulsing out in weakening waves.

"No, no, no."

He pulled her against him, and her blood soaked into his shirt. He pressed his lips to her head.

"This wasn’t supposed to happen," he said against her hair. "You were supposed to be next to me. Every day. Every night. You were supposed to be with me, Guinevere, because you are mine."

His voice gave out on the last word and the sound that came out of him was something he’d never made before. Low. Broken. The kind of grief that doesn’t ask for permission. His shoulders shook. He held her tighter because loosening his grip meant accepting it, and he was not accepting it.

"I was coming for you, baby," he whispered. "I’m so sorry."

Nicholas sat bolt upright in bed, heart slamming against his ribs.

Damon’s voice cut through the fog. "Get me a healer now."

"Yes, Beta," a guard replied.

Nicholas blinked hard, trying to clear his head. His Beta was hovering over him, along with three guards and his Gamma.

Before he could ask what was happening, he turned and vomited violently over the side of the bed.

"The healer is on his way, Nick," Damon said. "Is that blood?"

Ryker caught his eye, the look he gave was: You look like you need a drink. Or a vacation. Or therapy. Mostly therapy.

Sterling’s face said, You have no idea.

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