Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 311

Chapter 311: Mine, Mine, And Also Mine

The universe has a sense of humor. It waited for the exact second Damon opened his mouth, then pulled the fire alarm on two matebonds simultaneously.

Rewind sixty seconds to a Beta trying to reason with the Dragon King.

Damon Tavian, the man who had outplayed Renwick Lunaris, was now standing in a doorway trying to flag that maybe Maddox didn’t want his entire team to hear this. But then again, Lunaris and Shadowfell warriors all saw it.

"Tavian," Maddox said with a nod. "I’m insisting every person in this room is on the same page."

Damon looked at Maddox. Looked at Kael. Looked at the bottle caps on the table. The bottle caps had become sacred. Nobody was going to say it out loud but every person in that room had developed an emotional attachment to a table full of trash.

Jaxon had arranged them by kingdom. Sterling had corrected his spacing. Lux had threatened physical violence when Ryker tried to move the Lunaris cap six inches to the left. This was their Sistine Chapel, and it was made of garbage.

His eyes landed back on Maddox.

"This has to do with a private issue with Guinevere. Are you certain you want everyone present, Drakencrest?"

The hesitation was a warning shot that every person in the room interpreted identically and incorrectly. Confidence is a hell of a drug.

Maddox’s jaw flexed. He thought he knew what was coming. The Landon situation. The bloody dagger. The arrest warrant. The thing they had just spent an hour building a cover story around. Damon was about to confirm it and he was doing the professional courtesy of asking if the Dragon King wanted his brother and his entire inner circle hearing that his wife had potentially murdered Landon Solveil.

"Yes," Maddox said, voice flat. "I think I know what this is. But let’s hear it."

He did not know what this was.

Kael leaned forward. Same read. Same conclusion. Damon was about to deliver the Landon confirmation and wanted to know if the room was cleared for it. The fact that he asked was professional. The fact that he looked at both of them before asking was telling. Whatever Damon had was ugly enough to warrant a consent check.

"Go ahead," Kael added. "We’ve already discussed it."

They had discussed a lot. None of it was relevant to what was about to come out of Damon’s mouth. They added two plus two and got seven and Damon was talking about something he saw with his own eyes.

Damon opened his mouth. The universe, sensing an opportunity for chaos, intervened before a single syllable could land.

Both dragons’ nostrils flared at the same time.

The reaction was so synchronized it looked rehearsed. Two heads snapping up. Two sets of eyes going wide. Two chests expanding with the same sharp inhale as two separate matebonds suddenly flooded with a signal so strong it bypassed scent and went straight to the nervous system.

She was close.

And she was crying.

"Drakencrest," Damon tried. "I need to tell you something before—"

Gone. Both of them. Through the doorway and into the corridor with the coordinated urgency of two men who had spent the last three days chasing the same woman and had just been told by biology that the chase was over.

Two territorial, testosterone-throttled twits tore through that corridor like they’d been personally summoned by the Gods and puberty at the same time.

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