Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 52

Chapter 52: Eclipse Court Can Kiss My Flame

She turned to Nicholas. "Shift and run. You can come back for me."

Her emotions had tapped out and this was just pure logic. She’d accepted it and planned on fully giving these fae hell, but that was that.

Something cold moved behind Nicholas’s eyes. "No."

"Your window is closing. You can’t help me if you’re dead or captured."

Nicholas ignored it.

Fifteen more fae materialized at his flanks, one with a blade to Damon’s neck. Another dropped in front of Guinevere, dark steel pressing against the junction of her throat and shoulder, the exact spot where a marking bite would go.

A blade pressed against Nicholas’s throat from behind. He went still.

"Knees. All three."

Nicholas calculated. Three blades. Three throats. Zero angles. His Beta’s eyes found his across the clearing, and the look that passed between them was the look of men who had been in impossible positions before and had never been in one this impossible.

He knelt. His Beta followed. Guinevere’s legs gave out on their own, her knees hitting the moss with a sound that was equal parts obedience and collapse.

The jungle went quiet. The clicking stopped. The chanting faded. Every fae in the clearing oriented toward the eastern treeline.

A figure stepped through the undergrowth, taller than the rest.

Every fae in the clearing dropped to one knee. Heads bowed.

His obsidian eyes settled on Guinevere.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

Guinevere, half-delirious, her vision swimming, looked up at the fae lord standing in front of her with his wings spread and his mouth shaped around the most predictable villain entrance line in recorded history.

She rolled her eyes. Of course he would say that.

"You’re the fourth fae today who’s used that line."

"I am not fae." His voice was silk over gravel. "I am their lord."

"Congratulations," she said flatly.

He smiled. It was the kind of smile that had no warmth and too many teeth. "And you are the first person today who has spoken to me without kneeling first."

"I am kneeling."

He looked down. She was, in fact, on her knees.

For one full second, Lord Mordyn did not know what to do with that information. The silence was beautiful. Guinevere collected it like a trophy.

Nicholas, next to her, closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose, caught somewhere between a laugh and a lunge. She was brilliant. She was also mouthing off to a dark fae lord with a blade at her throat.

The fae holding a sword to her neck spoke. "My Lord Mordyn, the vessel is impure. We should dispose of her."

Lord Mordyn did not glance at the fae holding the blade to her throat. He did not raise his hand or change his expression or shift his weight in any direction that communicated effort.

"Kill him."

Two fae moved in unison, and the screams that followed carried across the jungle in layers. Wet. Prolonged. The sound of a body being taken apart by creatures who understood anatomy well enough to keep the lungs working while the rest failed.

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