Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 271

Chapter 271: Declaration Of War Wrapped In Fuck You

Kael Ashenvale’s arms closed around nothing but cold, empty air.

She had been right there. RIGHT there. Six feet away, which was already too goddamn far, and he was out of the bed and moving and his mouth was forming her name and the white light swallowed her whole before the second syllable cleared his teeth.

What followed was a dragon shitfit so goddamn catastrophic that the Luminari healer hugged the wall for dear life, the Master Mage backpedaled ten whole steps, and the stonework of Guinevere’s tower developed structural feelings it did not consent to.

One hour prior to the dragon’s nuclear tantrum, eight hundred miles away, a wolf king lost his royal shit.

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DOMINO 56: A KING-SIZED MELTDOWN

GREYHALL CROSSING — 4:30 AM

Nicholas Shadowfell had been pacing the same corridor like a caged maniac for three hours when her presence flooded his chest through the matebond like a dam exploding.

One second, silence. The next, she slammed home.

His legs stopped dead. Every muscle in his body locked as the sensation poured through him, warm and alive and so goddamn welcome his eyes burned like he’d been gut-punched by pure relief.

She was alive and he could feel the proof of it, and the bottomless void that had been eating him alive for six-plus hours suddenly had a fucking floor.

Then the distance registered and that’s when his anger arrived.

"FUCK."

She felt far. This was someone-took-her-out-of-Nyros far. He knew that sensation cold. The degree of clarity that he felt her through their matebond was identical to what he had grown used to over the last few weeks. She was in Velkaris.

Maddox Drakencrest had a Master Mage and could fly. He had arrived at Greyhall Crossing while Nicholas was in the meeting and entered through her balcony. It all made sense now.

Nicholas almost laughed while his wolf growled under his ribs.

Portaling her out of Greyhall was a declaration of war wrapped in a middle finger and hand-delivered by a dragon whose ego had its own gravitational pull.

Drakencrest knew she had multiple mates, but he was ignoring it like a bastard. The Dragon King had taken her without so much as a ’by the way’ because to him, Nicholas had no right to her.

Why would he tell the man with a claim on his wife? It wasn’t like Nicholas had also been in that frozen river searching for her next to him. It wasn’t like Nicholas also was tearing himself apart trying to find her.

No, Drakencrest wouldn’t care about that because he won the auction. He arrived with a strike team and pure tunnel-vision that Guinevere was his property and the rest of the world was just a disposable speed bump.

And she probably had no idea because she would have notified her men. They had been worried as well.

That realization came second and came vicious. Guinevere Lunaris would sooner light herself on fire than ditch the wolves who came with her. She held a goddamn team vote with them on if they wanted to leave. She had fought next to them the night prior. And she apparently had stood up to Tharos Stonehowl when he disrespected her Beta before Nicholas had arrived in the hall. That was what escalated things. Not him confronting her. Him insulting her Beta.

So no, she wouldn’t abandon them while she fucked off across a continent with a stranger she had no memory of, which meant Maddox Drakencrest had portaled her out of Greyhall Crossing while she was unconscious, and she was going to wake up confused, frightened, and likely make a run for it again.

This was an abduction cosplaying as a rescue with a thin layer of righteous bullshit painted over it.

That’s when her anxiety spiked. It was so intense that his hand flew to his chest.

It was the full-body type that meant she was hiding or running for her life, and both were unacceptable as hell.

Nicholas: Reed. Damon. Lockdown is finished.

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