Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

Chapter 138: Donut-Fucking Dipshit Demons

🎲 THE UNDERDOG PROP — Demons

Can they crack double digits? They’re sitting at 5.

🪙 THE PROP — Host vs. Father

Deadlocked 1-1. Sterling has the Father. Everyone else is betting on the Host.

🥊 THE MARQUEE BOUT — Dragon vs. Princess

The dragon leads by 10 and refuses to stop talking. Highlights: "glory hole in a temple" and "stop clenching your assholes."

📈 PROFANITY LEADERBOARD

😈 Kael: 18 ▲ (Backed by everyone except Lux)

👑 Guinevere: 8 (Backed by Lux)

🃏 Demons: 5

🛡️ Eron: 1

🐺 Renwick: 1

✦✦✦

INSIDE THE TENT

Two more cages came through the flaps. Guinevere glanced at Eron Solandris, waiting for there to be more.

There wasn’t.

"Nothing says strategic genius like doubling down on the thing that isn’t working," she commented.

"These ones are faster, girl," Eron snapped, arms crossed, his tone defensive.

Every pair of eyes darted between her and Eron.

"Impressive. Thank you for sharing your strategy with the tent. They definitely aren’t questioning it now."

Eron’s nostrils flared. "You think you’re so clever, girl, don’t you."

"It’s a low bar tonight."

The tent went dead quiet.

Then Kael started laughing. Every head swiveled towards him. "No no, keep going. This is the best hostage situation I’ve ever been in."

"Just open the goddamn cages," Eron said without looking at her or Kael.

The cage doors opened and two Dark Fae launched out of both screaming "VESSEL."

"One thrust and we become gods."

"Me first. Restrain the vessel, brother! My seed will rewrite the prophecy!"

"Wait your turn, brother." The taller one shoved the other behind it.

"Your seed couldn’t rewrite a ’Kick Me’ sign! I’ll pump her full first!"

They stopped mid-pursuit and immediately started beating the shit out of each other.

"ATTACK. THE. GIRL." Eron clapped between each word.

Both fae froze and looked up at him from the floor, mid-grapple.

"He started it!" one hissed.

"I started it because he called dibs! I will fuck her first."

"You couldn’t fuck a donut!"

"Her!" Eron pointed at Guinevere so hard his arm shook. "She’s right there! Get her."

Both fae looked at Guinevere, then immediately scrambled off the floor, moving towards her.

"Thank fuck," she said. "Wouldn’t want them to get distracted."

She swung her cuffed hands. The chains smacked the shorter one in the face while she kicked the second’s groin. Both folded.

She grabbed a wing, ripping it free, then grabbed the other. "Tell me why you’re here. You get one answer before I take the other."

"You’re not pure anymore! She must be purified with seed."

She ripped the other wing without hesitation."I’m not your goddamn vessel. Pass that along in your hive mind."

"We don’t hive mind! You wing-ripping contaminated little cunt!"

She stamped down on its back three times. The fae went silent, its body going still under her boot. She wasn’t sure if it was dead or just smart enough to stop talking.

The chain-in-face one she’d hit earlier recovered and charged at her, fangs out. "Move over, brother. I get first load!"

It dove at her. She sidestepped neatly, grabbed a wing, and yanked it off. It hit the floor screaming beside the other fae, the two of them forming a very unhappy demon duo.

"Put your goddamn fangs away," she ordered. "Now."

The dark fae’s fangs stayed where they were. "TAINTED! FILTHY! ROTTEN VESSEL!"

Without pause, she ripped its other wing off and tossed it.

"Bad Vessel. Impure dirty wing-ripping cunt. I’ll still fill you for the prophecy!"

"I’m not." Kick. "Your fucking." Kick. "Vessel." Stomp.

It went quiet.

Guinevere looked at her father with an expression that very clearly said, This is fine with you?

Renwick’s face was stone.

She sighed, glancing around the tent. A soldier’s mouth was hanging open. The man beside him reached over and closed it for him. At the table, Beta Draven was refilling his glass of whiskey, completely checked out of the circus.

She turned to Eron. "What is our goal here? Can you at least give me a hint?"

"For the love of the gods," Lord Solandris said, looking at the ceiling. "Have we tried asking her nicely?"

"I told her we wanted to see her magic," Eron replied.

Her eyebrows lifted a fraction. "I was unclear that was the objective until right now."

"I told you with the jester, girl," Eron insisted.

"I was also unclear until now," Kael piped in, blade still at his throat.

"This does not concern you, Ashenvale," Eron snapped. "Shut your mouth."

"Not concerned with me? I’m literally on my knees because your communication skills are dogshit."

"You’re on your knees because you broke into my tent with a sword. Don’t rewrite history, boy. You’re alive because I allow it."

Kael’s eyes moved to Guinevere while Eron spoke, the look on his face said, watch this.

"Here’s a wild thought. You could just ask her nicely."

A vein in Eron’s neck surfaced that hadn’t been there at the start of the evening. "We have. Keep going. The next word out of your mouth will be your last, Ashenvale."

Kael opened his mouth but Guinevere cut across him before whatever was loaded could fire.

"Do the mechanics operate similar to flame?" she asked. "I haven’t summoned anything else before but I’m happy to try."

Lord Solandris looked at his brother, then at Guinevere and shook his head. He lowered himself into the chair next to Draven with the deliberate calm of a man formally withdrawing from the situation.

"You know exactly what I’m referring to, girl," Eron growled. "Don’t play coy with me."

"I thought Solandris was one of the most respected, intelligent dragon houses. But I find myself genuinely, profoundly disappointed. If I knew what the hell you were referring to, I’d have used it already to shut down this goddamn shitshow-clusterfuck."

Across the tent, Renwick pinched the bridge of his nose, the crack in his composure widening into a canyon. "Guinevere. Stop swearing and insulting our hosts, daughter. I’m aware you’re keeping count. So am I."

Guinevere kept her face perfectly, beautifully blank. "Sure, Father. I’ll stop saying hell, fuck, shitshow, and clusterfuck, and I’ll do my best not to insult our competent, reasonable hosts."

Renwick closed his eyes, exhaled, then opened them. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat next to Draven. The Wolf King, the Beta, and the Dragon Lord, were now side by side, drinking in silence.

Marek, leaning against the pole, gave a low, dark chuckle. "Doubtful the Dragon King has the faintest idea he married a princess who stabs hands and curses like a sailor."

"Doubtful indeed," Eron agreed.

✦✦✦

EAVESDROPPERS OUTSIDE THE TENT

Maddox stood frozen, listening to demons bicker about who got to ejaculate inside his wife, while Ryker and Sterling were trying, and failing, to physically restrain him. The only thing keeping the Dragon King from burning the tent down was the Dragon King

Jaxon: Mindlink is safe, Your Majesty. Outside the tent only. If you reach for Kael or her, they will intercept.

Sterling: She’s doing fine. The room is talking because she’s running it. You go in, you stop that.

Ryker: Seconded. Kael hasn’t used the phrase. Every minute they talk, we get closer to why. Hold the line, Commander.

Inside, a wing was ripped off of something with a wet tearing sound, and a demon shrieked "you wing-ripping contaminated little cunt."

Maddox dragged a hand down his face, breathing hard through his nose. His gold eyes burned like twin furnaces as another scream tore through the tent. His entire body was locked tight, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap.

Sterling and Ryker exchanged a glance. Neither let go of him.

📈 LEADERBOARD:

👑 Guinevere: 20 ▲▲ (Backed by Lux)

😈 Kael: 19 ▲ (Backed by everyone except Lux)

🃏 Demons: 10 ▲

🛡️ Eron: 2 ▲

🐺 Renwick: 1