Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

Every fucking domino tonight had been a circus. Blades, screaming, tantrums, glowing bullshit, twins arguing like divorced parents, some ninety-year-old psycho waving shears. Domino forty-nine was just two men in chairs with whiskey. Should’ve been the quietest tile in the whole chain. It wasn’t.

One of them had just murdered his own son ten minutes ago. The other was about to demand the unborn ones.

Quiet dominos always fuck you the hardest.

DOMINO 49: GRAMPS SAYS WHAT NOW

LUNARIS KEEP - RENWICK’S STUDY - 8:10 PM

TIME FROM GUINEVERE LIGHTING THE TABLE - 25 MINUTES

Renwick poured whiskey for two without being asked.

Maddox sat in the chair across the desk like he owned it. Legs crossed. Posture relaxed. The body language of a man who’d already won the game and was now watching the other side figure out they’d been playing with Monopoly money.

Renwick set a glass in front of him and took his own seat.

The whiskey was a prop. Maddox was fluent in the game. He took it without a word.

"Your son laid hands on my wife," he stated.

Renwick’s expression gave nothing. "I’m aware."

"He whipped her in front of your court. From what I hear, while she was cuffed."

"You’ve been briefed."

"I’ve been briefed." Maddox leaned forward. "But here’s what you haven’t been briefed on. She was sucked into a portal that activated at the bottom of a river beforehand that transported her here and I have spent the last day and a half looking for her." He paused, deciding how much information he wanted to give away to this man to get his desired outcome. "The lashes appeared on my own back along with Landon Solveil’s and Nicholas Shadowfell’s through three matebonds."

Renwick’s jaw worked once.

"You knew she had multiple matebonds when we met a few days ago, Drakencrest. You still wanted her then. Has something changed?"

"No," Maddox said immediately. "She’s not going to Landon Solveil. I’ve spent eleven hours flying here ready to burn this Keep to its foundation. I chose conversation instead. You’re welcome."

Renwick’s finger traced the rim of his glass. "How generous of you. What do you want, Drakencrest? Skip the foreplay."

"The man who ordered the lashes is dead on your staircase. I didn’t kill him. You did. Which means either you handled it, or you handled something else entirely and the timing was convenient. I don’t care which. The result is the same. The person responsible is no longer breathing."

Renwick said nothing. His eyes were steady, patient, the eyes of a man waiting for the price tag because he knew every conversation with a king had one.

Maddox gave it to him.

"I’m honoring the alliance. Full fleet. Full military commitment. The seven hundred and fifty million is settled. Nothing changes on paper. But I need something to make this right."

"What changes off paper?" Renwick asked.

"Maria and the Beta if he survives."

Silence.

Renwick’s glass hadn’t moved. His face hadn’t moved. But something behind his eyes recalculated, the way a chess player recalculates when a piece he’d written off reappears on the board.

"You want the woman I just sentenced to death and the man who fucked her."

"I want the pregnant woman my wife considers family and the father of her unborn child. Yes."

"And why would I give you either?"

"Because Guinevere saved Maria’s life. She traded herself so Maria could live when Stonehowl raided your keep. You know this. I know this. Every wolf in this Keep knows this. My wife would be crushed, Renwick. Crushed. If the woman she bled for died because of palace politics she had zero part in."

"You’re forgetting one thing," Renwick replied. "That woman replaced her mother. Frankly, I was surprised Guinevere offered to trade herself at all. But when she learns what Maria has been doing behind my back, Drakencrest, I doubt she’ll feel that way."

"Your wife’s affair doesn’t change my wife’s sacrifice. Those are two separate transactions. But I’m not here to litigate your marriage, Renwick. Whether my wife forgives Maria later is her business. Whether she forgives ME for letting Maria die is mine. And I’m not taking that risk."

Renwick took a slow sip. Set the glass down. "You love her. That much is obvious. It’s also the most exploitable thing about you and you just put it on my desk."

"Exploit away. But while you’re calculating, calculate this: I need a wolf advisor in Drakencrest. Draven is someone Guinevere has mentioned to me multiple times. She respects him as much as she respects you. She told me that both he and his son always looked out for her. Whether that’s earned or sentimental, I don’t give a fuck. She cares about him and trusts him. That makes him valuable to me."

Every word of that was a lie. Maddox had never heard Draven’s name come out of Guinevere’s mouth. But he was going with his gut. He sold it like gospel. Posture, pacing, eye contact, the slight tightening around the jaw.

Renwick studied him. Measuring. The man was a professional bullshit detector and Maddox was feeding him premium-grade bullshit wrapped in just enough truth to pass inspection.

"A man that betrayed her father. That’s who you want advising her," Renwick said.

"A man who learned from her father," Maddox corrected. "One who has been loyal up until one mistake. I understand why you can’t have him in your inner circle, but it doesn’t change his track record outside of that. That’s someone I can use in mine."

"Draven knows too many things, Drakencrest," Renwick said. "And he’s dead."

"He does," Maddox agreed. "If he survives, I’ll make it easy for you."

He took a slow sip of whiskey.

"Blood oath. Both of them. Maria and Draven swear on their wolves, their blood, and the life of that unborn child that they will never disclose Lunaris intelligence, strategy, alliances, territorial agreements, or internal politics to any party outside of Drakencrest."

Renwick’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

"You’re binding them to YOUR kingdom’s secrecy protocol. They’d be yours."