Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 308

Chapter 308: Dad Left For Five Fucking Minutes

Two wolves on a cliffside. One who came back from the dead. One who brought him back.

They started the run.

She tucked behind him, matching his stride, following his lead.

Her wolf wanted to go faster.

Guinevere told her wolf no. They were going at the pace he set and that was the pace they would keep because this was his territory and she was a guest and guests don’t sprint past their hosts.

Nicholas’s wolf sped up.

The new pace was faster than anything she had run with Gavyn and her men. Significantly faster. Her wolf matched it without effort and then pushed past it because her wolf had apparently been waiting for permission to open up and the permission was a black wolf who could actually keep up.

She was running faster than she had ever run in her life and the joy it produced was so enormous it probably slammed into their matebond like a tidal wave because Nicholas’s wolf glanced behind him and she caught something on his face that looked suspiciously like a wolf smile.

Wolves don’t smile. She knew wolves don’t smile. And yet that black wolf was grinning at her like a man who’d just been told he was right and was choosing not to say it out loud.

He pushed faster. She matched. He pushed again. She matched again. Two wolves playing chicken at full speed and neither one was blinking. Each acceleration was a question and each match was an answer and the conversation happening between their legs was more honest than anything either of them had managed with words tonight.

They found a rhythm.

His stride and hers. His pace and hers. His turns anticipated by her body before her brain caught up. Her adjustments mirrored by his before she finished making them. The way he dropped pace before a hill and surged after the crest was identical to the way Gavyn had taught her, except Nicholas hadn’t taught her anything. She was reading him the way she had read Gavyn and the reading was effortless.

Two wolves who moved like a single animal with two bodies.

Run fast enough and the world reduces to two things: your stride and whoever can match it.

The sync was wrong. It was too good. Too fast. Two people should not work this well together after this little time. Nicholas had said they knew each other well during the era she couldn’t remember, but this kind of rhythm was something that should have taken months of training together. Years of it.

It was more coordinated than even the run she had with Gavyn and the other Lunaris men. And they were the best flock in the building. The kind of seamless coordination that she and Nicholas were doing on a cliffside on their first run was the kind that she didn’t know existed.

Her wolf knew why. Her wolf had known since the council chamber.

Mate.

The word didn’t arrive like a revelation anymore. It arrived like a fact that had been waiting for her to stop arguing with it.

She ran beside him through the pre-dawn dark with salt air in her lungs and a matebond humming in her chest and a man she couldn’t remember but also a man she couldn’t forget.

The forest blurred. The miles disappeared. The pre-dawn grey that had been holding steady was thickening at the edges, clouds stacking in layers that swallowed the last of the starlight. The kind of dark that turned a glowing white wolf into a lighthouse and a glowing black wolf into a very expensive problem. Tactically fucking catastrophic.

When Greyhall came into view a few miles out, a dark mass of stone against the darker sky, Nicholas slowed. She felt the deceleration through their matebond a half-step before his stride changed and matched it without thinking.

He wanted her beside him. Not behind.

She moved up. Shoulder to shoulder. Two wolves running side by side toward a fortress that held their packs, their problems, and a list of crises that had been accumulating interest since they’d left.

They kept the pace steady. Mile after mile of synchronized stride, the rhythm they’d found on the cliffside holding like it had been set in stone instead of stumbled into. The gates grew larger. The torchlight along the walls became visible. Wolves on the ramparts were moving, armed, alert, and operating at a tempo that said something had happened while they were gone.

The gate was close. It had also seen kings arrive, but nothing like this.

She felt Nicholas’s shift coming through the matebond before his body started the transition. A gathering of energy behind his ribs, a compression, the specific coiling that preceded the change. Her wolf felt it too.

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