Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 94

Chapter 94: Dry Humping The Dragon King

The sentence punched him in the chest.

Ryker: champagne. Kael: crimson silk and diamonds. Maddox Drakencrest, King of Dragons: a lecture about trespassing so dry Sterling would have been proud.

The gods were laughing. He could hear them.

His dragon roared behind his ribs.

Mine.

Around them, the ballroom carried on, five hundred conversations pretending they weren’t eavesdropping on the Dragon King getting verbally kneecapped by the same woman who casually shattered his record.

What killed him was the delivery. If she’d been cold about it, he could have worked with that. She had said it with warmth. A little humor. Like she was letting him in on a joke that everyone else already understood.

She felt sorry for him. Again. Like the king of the largest empire in the world needed to be let down easy.

DIGNITY REMAINING: Presumed dead.

EGO: Last seen functioning at diplomat row.

He moved before his brain approved the transfer. His hands claimed her hips like he had every right. The grip of a man planting a flag. He pulled her close, making sure to turn her away from Kael. Better. Much better.

She stiffened. Her green eyes flashed up to his, and her pulse hammered under his palms. Good.

Lords scattered. Two reversed so fast they nearly collided. Smart men. Surviving men.

"You’re wearing his dress." Two inches from her face. "To my banquet. In my Keep."

"It’s a beautiful dress."

"It’s a beautiful problem." His eyes lowered, studying the crimson silk the way a predator tracks movement. Then they came back to hers. "From now on, nothing touches your goddamn body unless I put it there."

He heard himself say it and thought: that was insane. Then he thought: I meant it. Then he thought: I’ll deal with that later. Then he thought: Later can go fuck itself.

Her lips parted. The surprise on her face bloomed into something warmer, something that cracked through the sadness she carried like a second skin, and what came out of her mouth next was the last thing he expected.

"If you’re going to outfit me, Commander, you’d better have taste. Kael set the bar uncomfortably high."

The laugh came out before his pride could catch it. Taken from him by a woman who had just complimented his brother. To his face. While his hands were on her. The disrespect was architectural.

His dragon rumbled low and satisfied. He could relate.

He wanted her. Whatever this was, it had stopped being manageable and started being a problem he didn’t want to solve.

Over her shoulder, Kael’s eyes were locked on his hands with a predator’s focus. Good. He tightened his grip and let his brother see exactly where his thumbs were.

Kael’s jaw shifted. One millimeter. On any other man it was nothing. On Kael Ashenvale, who had four tells and controlled all of them, it was a five-alarm fire.

Maddox leaned closer, his mouth near her ear. "I don’t compete with bars. I replace them."

Behind her, Kael crushed his whiskey glass bare-handed. Liquid pooled at his boots. He didn’t seem to notice. His eyes stayed locked on Maddox’s hands.

Maddox normally would have laughed. Been there. Done that. Instead he ignored it, wrapped an arm around her waist and steered her towards the far archway. The arm was for her. The eye contact was for Kael. Both served the same purpose.

Clear? Clear.

That settled that.

Without breaking stride or removing his arm from her waist, he took the champagne glass in her hand, drained it, then replaced it with one from another passing tray.

One drink replaced. One dress to go.

She looked down at the new drink like he’d swapped her child. "I had one."

"I’m behind on gifts." He brought her to a stop under the archway. Turned her. Positioned himself so that his brother’s view of her ended at his spine.

Petty? Yes. Effective? Also yes.

Then he let go of her while his eyes dropped to the dress. "This silk is thin."

Color flooded her face and kept going south. His dragon lost its goddamn mind.

"I’m aware."

"Are you?" He leaned closer. "Because you haven’t told me to stop."

"You haven’t given me a reason to."

"That sounds like an invitation, Guinevere."

"It sounds like an observation, Commander."

He breathed out slowly. She was winning and he was enjoying it. His pride meanwhile was filing a complaint.

He closed the gap again, palm finding her hip. The silk was hot under his fingers. "You’re warm. Warmer than a wolf should be."

"It’s a crowded room."

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