Chapter 140: Daddy Said No, Down The Hatch It Goes
There are three types of hostages: the quiet ones, the angry ones, and the ones who turn your entire operation into a goddamn circus. Eron Solandris had two of the third kind, and they were competing for the gold medal in professional pain-in-the-assery.
Kael’s voice rang from the other side of the canvas."That was a ticking clock. Honey, what did I tell you about touching these things?"
"Finally," Eron grumbled. "The white magic will come now."
"You do realize she’s dry heaving, right?" Kael asked. "No? Okay. Educational moment for all you brain-dead cunts, that’s what puking looks like."
Guinevere’s voice sounded next. "Permission to remove these cuffs while I puke."
"Denied," Eron snapped, "You need those cuffs off the way a prisoner needs a hole in the wall. You’ll make a run for it."
"Why on earth would I want to leave," she fired back, voice dry as ash. "I’m having a fantastic time."
Outside the tent, Ryker grinned and shook his head. Next to him, Maddox closed his eyes and exhaled hard through his nose.
Ryker: Oh, lighten up, Commander.
Maddox: I’m going in there.
Ryker: No you’re not.
"If this goes any further," Kael called. "I’m going to need a fucking stiff drink. Not yet. But if you could grab me one, Eron, that would be wonderful."
Maddox pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course Kael would dance around the actual phrase.
"Shut your mouth, Ashenvale."
"Tried. Can’t."
Every sound inside the tent stopped at once.
Then the scent of her blood hit Maddox through the canvas like a fist to the sternum. His lungs locked. His vision tunneled. Every thought in his head collapsed into a single point: she is bleeding and I am not in there.
His body pitched forward and the two men holding him went with it, boots cutting grooves in the dirt.
Renwick’s Beta cut through the silence. "Is that blood?"
"Enough. I did not agree to this." Renwick Lunaris boomed. "We are finished."
Ryker: There it is. The wolf has a spine after all. I was getting worried he’d sold that too.
Sterling: A bleeding daughter is a depreciating asset. He did the math.
Maddox: My wife is out of that tent. I’m done.
Ryker: I need Kael to curse more first.
"Your turn, Second," Eron said from inside the tent.
"Edward’s turn. My hand still has a hole in it," Marek replied.
Jaxon: I still can’t believe she—
Ryker: Nobody can, Jaxon.
✦✦✦
INSIDE THE TENT
"Lower the blades," Lord Edward Solandris said from his seat.
The steel came off Kael’s throat, but the men still restrained him.
Renwick moved at Alpha speed across the tent. Her cuffs came off and the relief was so immediate it almost knocked her sideways.
She glanced up at him, confused.
He turned without looking at her.
"Sit, daughter. Let’s try this again."
She didn’t move.
"Now." Alpha tone.
Her body responded automatically. She pushed herself up off the floor and moved to the table.
Lord Solandris raised two fingers without standing. A man crossed the tent, knelt beside her, and pressed a glowing palm to her back. Warmth spread through her ribs like a slow exhale and the burning immediately dimmed. The nausea receded. She hadn’t fully realized how much it hurt until then.
"She’s at her limit," the healer said after a minute, looking up at Lord Solandris. "No more for her."
"No more," Lord Solandris agreed.
One of the guards nodded down towards Kael. "The dragon, My Lord?"
Lord Solandris waved a hand. "This does not concern him. Wipe his memory and let him go."
"Doesn’t concern me?" Kael said from his knees. "I’ve been cuffed, bitched at, and held at bladepoint for the last goddamn hour. But sure. Not my concern. Totally casual over here."
Marek took one step towards Kael. Guinevere shot out of her chair and crossed the tent in a blur, placing herself in front of Kael.
"He stays, or I will not cooperate."
Kael stared at the back of her head. The stare carried a complete sentence: I had this handled. She could feel it. She ignored it.
"Ah, so it WAS Alpha speed earlier when she caught the blade," Marek commented, eyes not leaving her. "A warning would have been helpful with that, Renwick."
"She was using that speed tonight in the halls too," Eron said.
Beta Draven swirled his whiskey. "That is also new, for the record. Also impossible. Alpha speed is a male inheritance. Women don’t carry it."
"Women don’t stab master mages either," Guinevere sighed. "But surprise motherfuckers, here we are. Please do try to keep up."
Every pair of eyes landed on her. Marek’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Beta Draven nearly dropped his glass.
Then Kael barked out a loud laugh.
"Surprise motherfuckers," he wheezed. "That’s going on her fucking tombstone."
Renwick closed his eyes and exhaled. "Yes. It appears my daughter has acquired a few talents since arriving here."
Marek turned to Kael again.
"Take another step and you become a pile of ash. Choose." Guinevere’s voice held no warmth.
Marek froze then lifted both hands, including the one that was healing. Too easy. Her instincts screamed something was off.
"Put your goddamn hands down. Now."
He lowered his hands with a smirk. "You and I both know you don’t want to burn me. You’ve also exposed your back to two swords. Do go on though. Your move. I’m riveted."
CRACK.
Kael’s cuffs fell to the floor. Gold snapped around him and her both in that same instant. No, she did not plan that. Her subconscious did what it wanted. She rolled with it.
Kael glanced up at the two men restraining him. "I would let go of me if I were you. It will burn you if she lets it."
Maybe she didn’t make it clear enough last night, but she had approximately zero control over who her flame burned and who it cuddled.
Neither man let go of Kael. This was about to get interesting or embarrassing.
"Enough." Lord Solandris’s voice cut through the tension. "Let him stay if it keeps the girl calm. He won’t remember any of this by morning."
Both guards released Kael.
"Love that for me. Really rolling out the red carpet tonight, Solandris." Kael walked to the table, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and dropped into a chair like he owned the place. No one stopped him. "I wouldn’t miss the third act of this shitshow for all the gold in the kingdom, you magnificent assholes."
Guinevere internally rolled her eyes at that ridiculousness. She took the seat beside him without comment.
The golden glow surrounding both of them didn’t stop. She couldn’t turn the damn thing off if she tried. No one commented.
Eron Solandris poured Guinevere a new glass of whiskey, which she took.
"My daughter just vomited blood and we’re handing her whiskey." Renwick looked at the glass, then at Eron. "She shouldn’t be drinking that."
Guinevere, who hadn’t even planned on drinking it, immediately downed half the glass in one defiant gulp. Fuck it. Daddy said no.
"Really committed to the fuck-you energy tonight. Aren’t we, Wolf Girl?" Kael said.
Renwick closed his eyes for a moment. "Do us all a favor and shut the fuck up, dragon."
"You find me offensive. But demon-fairies chanting about cum is perfectly reasonable."
Beta Draven choked so hard on his whiskey he nearly dropped the glass. The rest of the table went dead silent, staring at Kael like he’d lost his mind.
Renwick looked like he wanted to strangle everyone in the tent, starting with Kael and ending with himself.
Eron dropped into a chair across from them. "You two are the worst, most obnoxious hostages I’ve ever taken."
Guinevere shrugged. "You were the worst abductor I’ve had all month. The demon bit was creative but the execution was mid, and your threats needed more punch. Solid bones though. You’ll improve."
Dead silence followed.
Eron stared at her with pure, unfiltered disbelief while Renwick rubbed his temples.
Lord Edward Solandris lowered himself into a seat at the head of the table, and the temperature of the room changed. "My Second’s hand will survive. My brother’s ego, less so."
Neither Eron nor Marek offered a rebuttal.
Edward looked at Guinevere. "Open the parchment."
Marek laughed, low and unhinged, still nursing his hand. "Oh. We’ve tried."
He sounded like a man whose professional pride had been stabbed by a girl who wouldn’t open a goddamn envelope.
Guinevere gave a solemn nod. "That must have been frustrating for you."
"It was," Marek replied.
Renwick exhaled, long and tired, the sound of a man who had been saying the same thing all night to people who wouldn’t listen. He reached across the table, picked up the parchment himself, and broke the seal.
"She watched dark magic crawl across a table and a knife go for my Beta’s throat. Shocker, she wouldn’t touch a strange document sliding towards her." He unrolled it flat and laid the parchment in front of her. "I told you that would be a holdup, repeatedly."
Guinevere’s eyes moved over it. A blood contract with two seals, left and right. Old ink. Older wax.
Her mother’s name was halfway down.
She looked at it, then she looked up, slowly.
"Your mother," Lord Solandris said, "was my daughter."
📈 LEADERBOARD
😈 Kael: 29 ▲▲
👑 Guinevere: 23 ▲
🃏 Demons: 15
🛡️Eron: 5
🐺 Renwick: 2 ▲
🔮 Marek: 1 ▲ (new entrant)
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