Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Baby, I Would Never

Guinevere woke drenched.

The sheets were soaked through. Her hair was plastered to her neck and forehead, and heat rolled off her body in waves that had nothing to do with the hearth or the man beside her. It was coming from inside, deep and building, a fever that had no origin and no ceiling.

Her wolf stirred. Restless. Pacing behind her ribs in tight circles.

She tried to sit up. Her arms shook. Sweat dripped off her chin onto the silk and she stared down at the dark spot it made and tried to understand what was happening to her body.

Beside her, Maddox’s eyes opened. His nostrils flared once, and his entire body went rigid.

He knew what this was before she did.

His hand found her hip under the sheets.

"Gwen." His voice was low. Controlled. Deliberately calm. "Look at me."

She turned her head. Her green eyes were glassy. Unfocused. The pupils blown too wide for the dim light.

He moved over her in one fluid motion, his weight settling between her thighs, his forearms bracing on either side of her head. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her slow and deep, his body covering hers completely.

She whimpered against his lips. Her back arched off the bed. The heat was unbearable now, centered low in her core, throbbing in a rhythm that matched her pulse.

And he was the only relief.

His mouth moved to her jaw. Her throat. The curve of her neck where the vein ran close to the surface.

She moaned.

The sound left her mouth and the world changed.

His scent shifted. His hips rolled against hers in a motion that was no longer Maddox’s careful control. This was instinct stripped down to bone. Breeding rhythm. A body that already knew what it wanted and was taking it.

She felt fangs against her throat.

Long. Sharp. Pressing into her skin without breaking it. They dragged slowly down the tendon at the side of her neck, and a growl rolled out of the chest above her that vibrated through the mattress. Low. Possessive.

She opened her eyes.

His were black. No white. Two pits of iron-dark absence staring down at her from a face that was Maddox’s and was no longer Maddox’s at the same time.

The voice that came out of his mouth was wrong. A voice she had heard once in a forest with a hand around her throat.

"Are you hot, little wolf?"

Guinevere screamed.

Her hand flew to her mouth. The scream tore through the room and bounced off the stone walls and the sound was so raw it hurt her own ears. She scrambled backward on the bed, spine hitting the headboard, knees pulling to her chest.

Maddox jerked back.

Eyes wide. His hands hovered in the air between them, palms open, fingers spread.

"Gwen? What’s wrong?"

She could not speak. Her hand was clamped over her mouth and her body was shaking.

He reached for her.

She flinched away from him so hard her shoulder blade cracked against the wood. The sound that escaped through her fingers was small and broken and gutted.

Kael: Who is she, little brother? Someone worth losing sleep over, clearly.

The voice came through the mindlink. Uninvited. Impossible. The Keep’s wards had been rebuilt after the throne room massacre. Kael should not have been able to reach a mindlink inside these walls unless he was close enough to touch the stone.

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