Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

Chapter 121: 750 Million Gold & A Continental Clusterfuck

Somewhere across the sea, his mate was in danger. Nicholas Shadowfell knew this the way he knew his own pulse.

He had seven hundred and fifty million gold in a vault beneath his Keep. At the moment, it was absolutely fucking useless. The woman he’d liquidated an estate for was afraid and he was too goddamn far away to do anything about it.

The war table was covered in maps and reports from six different border captains who all said the same thing: the continent was getting absolutely railed, and nobody was talking to each other.

Nicholas stood at the head of it.

"We can’t reinforce Nighthollow without yanking men from the eastern line," Captain Harlan said. "Which leaves a massive, gaping hole until someone grows a pair and admits this isn’t six different problems. It’s one big continental clusterfuck."

Nicholas opened his mouth to answer. But before any words came, her terror hit him between the ribs like a battering ram. His hands slammed flat on the table and the wood turned black beneath them, spreading into a scorched silhouette of a woman’s body.

The commanders stared in horrified silence.

Nicholas blinked a few times. "What the hell..."

"Alpha." Harlan was on his feet. "What’s happening?"

Nicholas couldn’t answer. His body was processing trauma that belonged to a woman thousands of miles away while his wolf howled inside his skull with the desperation of an animal that could feel its mate in distress and could do absolutely nothing about it.

He pushed off the table, passed Harlan without a word, and was through the door before anyone could follow.

As soon as he cleared the threshold, he hunched over. The floor met his knees before he registered falling.

For one second he wasn’t in the corridor. He was wherever she was, watching her be dragged across stone, hearing a scream tear out of her that his body tried to answer.

"Guinevere..."

The matebond kept going. Wave after wave. He drove his fist into the floor with a savage crack. Blood smeared across the rock as his knuckles split.

"If she dies, I will kill Renwick Lunaris with my bare hands."

He leaned his forehead against the cold floor, breathing hard.

Behind him, a door opened and closed. Damon’s boots stopped beside his knees.

"You alright, Nick?"

"Yes."

Damon’s chin dipped. He was watching the corridor in both directions, making sure no one approached. A Beta’s first job was always the perimeter.

"Worse this time?"

Nicholas exhaled through his teeth. "This is one of the worst times."

Damon waited until Nicholas’s breathing leveled.

"I held something back. You were busy pretending to listen to Harlan, and the timing was already terrible. Renwick is gone."

Nicholas lifted his head. "Gone as in dead, or gone as in missing?"

"No confirmation. Lunaris went dark three days ago. No body, no grave, no coronation. Couriers are being told to fuck off at the border." Damon shrugged. "Pick your favorite theory."

"He’s in Velkaris." Nicholas pushed himself off the floor. "But they wouldn’t confirm it either way."

"An Alpha leaving on the brink of a war? Absolutely the hell they would not," Damon agreed.

Nicholas leaned back against the wall, steadying himself. "No Renwick might work in our favor. Get me in contact with Ryker Stormvale."

"I can do that," Damon replied. "If the Dragon King doesn’t want to sell his wife back, then what?"

Nicholas exhaled and ran his hand down his face. "We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. She might want to stay there too. Let’s just assess the situation first."

"Noted. On another topic. Applications for Master Mage of Shadowfell are in. So far we have one person."

Nicholas looked at Damon. "Don’t tell me..."

"Brennan. We want a mage, he wants the job. He’s followed up three times, I have to hand it to him. The question is, can he make portals without killing us?"

"We’d be stupid to hire that guy," Nicholas said flatly. "But we’re being attacked by dark fae, and fighting magic without a mage is the dumber call."

"I agree with you," Damon replied. "But good luck convincing the elders that hiring a mage isn’t the same as inviting the devil to dinner."

"The elders are curious about magic, whether they want to admit it or not." Nicholas straightened, the wolf retreating behind the king. "He joins on probationary terms and takes a pack oath immediately. We assign two elders to manage him."

Nicholas’s jaw shifted. Damon recognized the tell. Whatever came next had already been decided.

"Call a full council meeting."

"Which council?" Damon’s eyebrow rose by exactly the amount required to communicate that he already knew the answer and was giving Nicholas one final chance to say something less insane.

"Every Alpha in Nyros."

"Every Alpha," Damon repeated. "Including Ironmaw, who tried to steal your northern territory. The Blackmoor twins, who hate each other. And Veilcross, who called you ’a boy playing king on daddy’s bones.’ That council?"

"That council."

"And the location?"

"Central. Neutral ground. The Greyhall Crossing." Nicholas pushed off the wall and straightened to his full height. "Three days. Non-negotiable."

Damon studied him with the expression he reserved for moments when his Alpha made decisions that were either brilliant or suicidal, and the distinction would only become clear afterward.

"They won’t come willingly. Half of them are still deluding themselves that this is just some petty border nonsense. The other half know it’s a continent-wide shitshow but would rather die correct than swallow their pride."

"They will come because I asked," Nicholas replied, voice turning cold and final. "I’d rather they get the message in a room with allies than in a field with enemies. Every proud fucker on this continent is fighting the same war alone because pride is cheaper than admitting they need help. That math ends in extinction."

"You want an alliance," Damon repeated, fighting a grin. "You’re asking Alphas to play nice and share intelligence."

"I want survival. An alliance is how we get there." Nicholas held his Beta’s gaze. "The days of lone wolf bullshit are over. They adapt or they die in alphabetical order."

Damon nodded. "Does this also include Tharos Stonehowl? Corvex’s son. His name keeps surfacing alongside the shadow entities. Your alliance might already have a mole."

Nicholas didn’t flinch. "Yes."

"And when the Blackmoor twins inevitably try to murder each other at the summit?"

"Seat them on opposite ends of the hall," Nicholas said. "Put a bar between them. A long one with lots of liquor. If they’re going to murder each other, they can do it after the vote. Or drink themselves stupid and save us the trouble."

"That’s diplomatic."

"Diplomacy is for men who have time. We have a continent on fire." His amber eyes held Damon’s. "She is surviving over there. The least I can do is make sure there’s something worth surviving for when she comes back."

Damon knew better than to separate the king from the man when it came to her. "I’m on it, Alpha."

Nicholas nodded, then turned on his heel.

Damon watched him go. "Every Alpha in Nyros. What could possibly go wrong."