Chapter 139: The Vessel’s Over There, Buddy
Fine. Yes. Some of this shit was funny.
Ryker had made a betting pool out of Maddox’s personal hell, and the Dragon King was currently losing it. He was down money on whether Kael could out-curse his wife while they were both hostages. It was as fucked as it sounded.
He stood outside the tent the way a lit match hovers over a pool of gasoline.
Maddox: She’s ripping wings off. Kael said she swung a sword with her eyes shut. When the hell did this happen?
Ryker: She was running from those things for hours before Nicholas Shadowfell found her. He mentioned they were surrounded at one point. I’m sure he showed her a few things.
This was yet another thing his wife had endured during that time period that Maddox had no memory of. He dragged a hand down his face so hard it looked like he was trying to erase the last ten minutes from existence. It didn’t.
Maddox: Why was Nicholas Shadowfell there?
The mindlink was filled with the kind of silence that usually preceded someone committing arson before Ryker broke it.
Ryker: In the redacted file, Commander.
Maddox: Regardless, Shadowfell protected her. I owe him another thank you. That’s not a debt I forget.
Ryker and Sterling exchanged a glance, neither commenting. Maddox saw.
Maddox: What.
Ryker: Redacted.
Maddox: Get me that goddamn file tonight.
Ryker: Sure. But I want it on record that I strongly suggest reading it sitting down, away from anything that can catch fire. Ideally in the middle of a lake.
Maddox looked at Ryker the way a volcano looks at a village that just called it a hill.
Maddox: Starting tomorrow, she trains with me.
Ryker: Maddox. Brother. You cannot train your own mate. You know why. Sterling and I took the riding. We’re taking this too.
Maddox’s eyes blazed molten for the third time that night, lighting the dark around them like twin warning signs. Ryker held up both hands in surrender.
Ryker: Easy there, big guy.
Jaxon: Add me to the rotation.
Sterling: There it is.
Jaxon: You’re welcome.
Maddox held up a finger, leaning forward to hear what was being said through the canvas.
"Have you just been storing these here?" Guinevere asked.
"Portals, girl," Eron answered.
"Did you capture them in the wild or just promise them the vessel?" Her tone was perfectly balanced, leaving it unclear whether she was mocking them or actually curious.
"These are ones that attacked dragon houses. The cages prevent the portals," another voice answered that sounded like Lord Solandris.
"Smart," she replied. "Is your tent warded too? Because what’s to stop them portaling right back out?"
Sterling’s lips twitched. A rare lightning-strikes-only-once moment that Maddox absolutely saw.
Sterling: It’s funny because that’s her ’this is genuinely interesting’ voice, Commander.
Ryker: No, shit. Stop talking before we have to explain to forty lords why Diplomat Row is on fire.
Maddox: Thirty-nine.
"Yes," Eron’s voice boomed. "This one is warded. We won’t let them portal you anywhere, girl. We just want you to use your goddamn magic. That’s all."
Solandris’s tents were connected, a row of them sharing walls. Eron had just confirmed this tent was warded against portals, but he said nothing about the others.
Maddox: Jaxon.
Jaxon: On it.
✦✦✦
INSIDE THE TENT
The flap parted. Four cages this time.
"I told you, Eron, I don’t know how to use that magic. If I did, I would," Guinevere repeated.
He didn’t answer, face cold.
She sighed, staring at the cages like a woman who had been gifted four very chatty demon-fairies and was now going to have to dismantle them.
The four came out screaming over each other, a chorus with no conductor.
"Open her, open her, peel the rind, sweetest little breeding hole we’ll ever find—"
She kicked the first one’s kneecaps, and it folded.
A second one came in low. "Breed her, flood the nest, fill her womb with dark conquest!"
Both fists came down on top of its head like a double-handed sledgehammer. It ate the rug.
The third charged. "THE VESSEL IS MINE! I’LL STUFF THAT GLOWING—"
She slammed her boot between its legs. The chant turned into a high-pitched squeal only dogs could hear. As a wolf, she appreciated the irony.
"Cunt-cunt-cunt-cunt—" The fourth and final lunged, fangs extended.
She dropped low and let it fly over her, then clotheslined it with her leg. It face-planted. She had to admit, this was good practice at killing these motherfuckers.
"Use. Your. Fucking. Magic." Eron was back to clapping in between each word. "Cut the bullshit, girl!"
"Go to hell. I’ll hold the door."
Renwick exhaled. "Guinevere. Do what he says."
"Happy to. As soon as one person in this tent gives me instructions that aren’t just ’do the thing’ while clapping."
"Fine." Renwick jerked his chin towards Kael. "Him."
The men hauled Kael to the center and forced him down.
"Rough," Kael commented. "I usually charge extra for this kind of treatment. You Solandris boys are getting the friends-and-family discount."
Two men moved for Guinevere.
"I’ll get my daughter."
Both men stopped mid-step.
Renwick stood slowly from the table. He closed the distance, grabbed her arm, then pulled her off to the side of the tent.
"Stay." He said in an Alpha tone.
Her body locked in place. "Unnecessary, but okay. I wasn’t going to make a run for it."
Renwick’s eyes flared molten gold. She looked up at him completely unaffected. In fact, she felt great.
Another cage opened and a fresh fae spilled out.
"VESSEL," it crooned, reaching for her. "Vessel, vessel, sweet little—"
Renwick released her arm and moved back to the table.
"Good call, it might get you, Father. Don’t worry. I’ll protect us," she commented without looking at him.
Out of her peripheral vision, she saw her father down his whiskey.
Eron whistled to get the dark fae’s attention. It looked up.
"You want the vessel?" He pointed at Kael. "Kill him."
"Whoa, whoa." Kael lifted his chin off the blade by a careful inch. "Let’s not get carried away. I think there’s been a mix-up. The vessel’s over there. I’m just the handsome one."
The fae looked at Kael. Then it looked at Guinevere, and scuttled straight for her.
"Vessel, vessel, spread those thighs! Open her, open her, juiciest little cumdump we’ll ever ride!"
"Not her." Eron’s voice sharpened. "Him. The one on his knees."
The fae paused, deeply confused by the request, and went for Guinevere again.
"Honestly, it’s the smart play," Kael offered. "She’s the limited edition. I’m just the clearance rack."
Eron Solandris pinched the bridge of his nose. "She’s right. This is a waste of everyone’s goddamn time." He shook his head. "Remove Ashenvale. Have one of them use dark magic on her. That’s all I got."
"If you do that," Kael said, "just know up front that she pukes. It’s disgusting."
Guinevere shot Kael a look that could have stripped the finish off a war shield.
"So." Eron’s attention slid back to her, sharp and pleased. "You have seen these before."
"However did you deduce that." Her voice was as dry as ash. "I thought I was hiding it so well."
"Guinevere." Renwick exhaled her name like a man who had spent twenty years certain Cassian was his difficult child and was, at this exact moment, revising the entire ranking. "Just do what they’re asking."
📈 PROFANITY LEADERBOARD
👑 Guinevere: 21 ▲ (Backed by Lux)
😈 Kael: 19 ▲ (Backed by everyone except Lux)
🃏 Demons: 15 ▲▲ (or 14 without "cumdump")
🛡️ Eron: 5 ▲
🐺 Renwick: 1
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