Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 291

Chapter 291: Some Cultures Call It A Date

Getting to the palace was going to be a fucking struggle. The plants and fountains were cute. But now they were on a street with people and, for a goddamn glowing city, they sure as hell seemed surprised to see a glowing woman.

Every person they passed stared at Guinevere. Not the polite, fleeting kind of stare that strangers exchange in passing. The full-body, neck-craning, mid-conversation-stopping kind that said a woman was walking through their city glowing like the sun and nobody was sure if they should worship her or call someone.

A voice rang out from behind them, sharp and official.

"Terrace Unit Nine to Central. Visual confirmed on the person of interest. East concourse, level fourteen. Requesting immediate backup and containment perimeter."

A second voice followed, closer.

"Both hands where I can see them. Do not move."

"Oh, shoot," Guinevere said.

She said it the way a woman says it when she drops her keys in a puddle. Like she had genuinely believed the hair-tucking would work and was disappointed to learn that it didn’t.

Nicholas blinked. These guards were not being casual. It was like they knew who she was. Like she was an actual fugitive.

Weapons were drawn. Formations were forming. This was a full mobilization for one woman who had gotten lost.

More materialized from adjacent walkways. Guards or police, Nicholas couldn’t tell. Ten of them. Armor glowing. Blades out. Closing in on them like a unit that had been briefed, debriefed, and re-briefed on this exact target and was treating her like she had a hostage at blade point and a bomb taped to her chest.

The calm a moment ago from her changed rapidly into genuine panic that hit him through their matebond. It spiked so hard his own pulse kicked in response, and he didn’t like it. His wolf growled under his ribs.

So, Nicholas made a game-time decision. He scooped her up like she weighed nothing, one arm under her knees, the other around her back, and ran.

Full Alpha speed.

Guinevere’s arms locked around his neck on instinct.

The terrace blurred. He cleared a railing and dropped two levels before the guards registered the movement. Stone lit up under his boots when he landed because apparently the entire city was her accomplice and had zero interest in helping them hide.

A shout sounded from above. Boots redirected.

He vaulted another railing. Then another.

Guards appeared on the terrace below. He cut left. Cleared a fountain that surged as Guinevere passed over it. Took a stairwell three steps at a time and came out on a market level packed with bodies and stalls and the blessed, beautiful chaos of a crowd.

✦✦✦

TEN MINUTES LATER

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