Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 324

Chapter 324: And There’s The Other Shoe

Every conversation that had been building for over a day detonated simultaneously. Forty-eight Alphas, their Betas, their Gammas, and every officer in the upper stands all started talking at once with the coordinated discipline of a henhouse during a thunderstorm.

"DOUBLE-DIP CONFIRMED." Darwin was standing. Obviously. Arms spread. Vindicated. The man had peaked and was going to ride this moment into the goddamn afterlife.

"SIT DOWN, DARWIN."

"I WILL NOT SIT DOWN. I WAS RIGHT. FROM THE BEGINNING. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU OWES ME—"

Nicholas looked at him. Darwin sat. In the heavens, the gods stopped keeping count.

"Future queen," Thornback repeated to no one in particular. "Future queen of Shadowfell AND wife to the Dragon King. That’s two crowns."

"Three if you count Lunaris," Ironmaw added.

Renwick’s head turned so slowly it registered on instruments designed to measure glacial drift. "She is not queen of Lunaris."

"Yet," Thornback muttered.

"Did he just say yet to Renwick Lunaris?" an Alpha whispered.

"He did. Start writing his obituary."

Ashfang raised his goblet to Nicholas. "Congratulations, son. Four wives taught me one thing. The announcement is the easy part. Everything after is the war." He took a sip. "Beautiful war. But war nonetheless."

Veilcross was standing. Still. Again. The distinction had become academic. "So to be absolutely clear. She is double-dipping."

"The term is dual sovereignty," Redmoon corrected, rubbing his temples with the resignation of a man who had given up on vocabulary control somewhere around hour three.

"Dual sovereignty. Double-dipping. Same thing."

"It is emphatically not the same thing."

"It is EXACTLY the same—"

"ENOUGH." Renwick’s voice cracked across the chamber. He stood with the energy of a man who had been holding a live grenade for seven hours and had just decided to hand it to the only person in the room who could catch it without flinching.

He looked at Nicholas the way a stepdad looks at the father who just walked in and undid four hours of discipline in one sentence. Controlled. Dignified. And one Darwin away from walking into the sea.

In the stands, Brennan started clapping. Damon’s hand found his wrist. Brennan stopped clapping. His other hand started. Reed caught that one. Brennan sat between them with both arms pinned, vibrating with the restrained enthusiasm of a man who had just watched his favorite person say the best thing he’d ever heard and was being physically prevented from celebrating.

Reed: He said it.

Damon: The man proposed to his Luna and used Darwin as the ring box.

Reed: I’m not crying.

Damon: You’re not crying.

Renwick straightened his jacket. Adjusted his collar. Gave Nicholas one final look that communicated, in order: respect, fury, exhaustion, and the specific acceptance of a man who had billions waiting for him if the Dragon King didn’t like this and was choosing to focus on that.

Then he addressed the chamber for the last time.

"The agenda. Wards. Dark Fae. Defense coordination. Those are the three items we have been trying to discuss for two days. Shadowfell has the table. I am going to sit in my chair. I am going to close my eyes. And if anyone says the word double-dipping one more time, I will burn this building to the ground."

Silence.

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