Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 203

Chapter 203: Dressed Like Fuck You

She was alive. Probably. The dead don’t usually wake up naked and freezing with a split lip and a headache that could kill a horse, but then again, she’d never died before, so who the hell knew.

Sunset was bleeding orange through the tower window, which meant she’d been out cold for a full day. She sat up slowly and winced, every muscle aching. The blanket fell to her waist and cold air hit her skin.

"Seriously. Why am I naked?"

The question was directed at the room. The room did not answer.

Her silk pajamas were shredded on the floor beside the bed. She had no memory of removing them or how she wound up in her bed. The last thing she remembered clearly was the stone floor of the throne room and the taste of her own blood.

She pulled the blanket tight, got vertical on trembling legs, and reached the bathing chamber through a sequence of stumbles.

The mirror told her she looked like hell. Lip split. Purple bruises on her face, shoulders, ribs, and one on her neck.

When she turned in the mirror, she saw bandages on her back.

She remembered the throne room. The whip. Cassian. The man who called himself Kael had been cuffed beside her on the floor. She remembered looking into his eyes, then nothing after that. Just a deep, impenetrable fog.

Carefully, she peeled one of the bandages. The lash under was mostly healed. It looked like it was a week old, not a day.

How long had she been knocked out?

✦✦✦

THIRTY MINUTES LATER

One shower that stung like a motherfucker? Check.

Hair and body? Clean. Society can stop judging.

Dignity? Working on it.

No maids or omegas were sent to check on her, which was a sign that something was off. Cassian had claimed she was married to a dragon lord and ran away. She had no memory of any of that. Her mind kept going in circles on that.

One way to find out.

Yes, she was a bit banged up. No, she was not going to cry about it like a little bitch and look ugly while Cassian won. She was going to walk out of this room with her head held high and look damn good doing it.

The softest undergarments she had were lace. Fuck it.

Her favorite dress was calling her name. Decision locked.

Earrings and necklace? Why the fuck not.

Crown? Her mother’s sat untouched on her top shelf. It’d been there since she passed and today seemed like the day to put it on. Done.

One final look in the mirror. Fist-fight princess aesthetic. Wonderful.

Just as she was about to leave, she heard shouting from outside. Then a horn sounded. She crossed to the window. The eastern tree line was on fire. But the fire was wrong. It was burning purple at the edges and moving against the wind, which fire had no business doing. Dark shapes dropped from the sky.

Her hand flew to her mouth. She had never seen anything like it in her life.

One crisis at a time. The mirror wasn’t going to explain shit. Time to find someone with a functioning mouth and a goddamn explanation.

She opened her chamber door. Two guards were stationed outside and both turned with expressions that sat somewhere between relief and panic.

"Your Grace, you need to stay in your chambers. Orders were—"

"Whose orders?"

The guards exchanged a look. The kind of look men exchange when the answer to a question is going to create more questions.

"The dragon’s, Princess."

"What dragon?"

"The man who was... brought in with you last night. He’s a dragon, Your Grace. From Velkaris. He’s been running the Keep’s defense since the first attack."

Guinevere stared at the guard for three full seconds.

The man named Kael, the one who had saved her life, was a dragon. She wanted to thank him. She also wanted to figure out what the hell was attacking them.

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