Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 358

Chapter 358: Standing Real Close To Her (I Have Eyes, Ryker)

Blair Drakencrest had been at this for a while and the bag was still on Marek’s head and the answers were still dogshit.

"Let’s try this again, Navarre. The corridor. You said ’half-blood’s mark.’ Whose mark? On whom?"

"I told you. I don’t recall the conversation you’re referring to."

"You don’t recall." Blair looked at Damon. Damon looked at Blair. The shared glance lasted one second and contained a full performance review of Marek’s intelligence. "You don’t recall a conversation you literally just had. In a corridor. Where you were caught. By me. The woman who just listed your sexual resume."

"I have nothing further to add, Princess."

Brennan gave a small shake of his head from the corner. The inhale had been held for a full second before Princess. Lying. Again. Still. Perpetually.

Blair clapped in front of the bag. Marek flinched. She was going to keep doing that until it stopped being funny and she was nowhere close.

"The phrase ’half-blood’s mark’ was very clear, Navarre. So was ’surviving an extraction.’ So was ’matebond severed.’ So was ’kill switch.’ Those are YOUR words. From YOUR mouth. Less than an hour ago. In MY Keep."

Marek’s head tilted under the sack with the energy of a man who was recalculating how much she had actually heard and arriving at a number that was making his palms sweat.

"The Princess has a vivid imagination."

"The Princess has a vivid memory. There’s a difference and it’s measured in buckets. Speaking of, how about another?"

Behind the one-way soundproof door that was cracked open by four inches, Sterling Emberfell stood with his arms crossed. Ryker was beside him. Griffin was behind both of them on his toes, neck craned, the human periscope.

Sterling’s eyes were tracking two things. First, Blair’s hand placement every time she leaned toward the prisoner. Second, Damon Tavian’s proximity to Blair every time she leaned toward the prisoner.

The Beta was too close. He was standing three feet behind the princess in a dimly lit dungeon interrogation chamber, occupying a radius that Sterling had unconsciously designated as his and the intrusion was registering somewhere between his professional judgment and his pulse rate.

"He’s good," Ryker observed quietly.

Sterling said nothing.

"Damon, I mean. Smart interrogation instincts."

Sterling said nothing louder.

"Also standing real close to her."

"I have eyes, Ryker."

"Just making sure they’re pointed at the right thing."

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