Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

Kael snored once, loud. Blair went rigid. She glanced up in time to see Guinevere’s hand come out of the blanket and cover Kael’s mouth.

The snoring died instantly. Guinevere gave his face a little ”there, there” pat and moved her hand back to where it was.

Blair blinked. That bitch was definitely still asleep.

Then she looked down at the note she was holding.

Dear Blair, I am s—

The rest of it was scratched out. The line through it was so aggressive it had torn the paper. A crumpled one sat beside it that he’d clearly balled with both hands. She smoothed the mess open.

Blair. I am a dick. A giant one who is—

It stopped.

She flipped it over. Nothing.

”Who is what?” she muttered. ”The options are ENDLESS, Kael, and you chose NONE of them.”

A third wad waited. With zero mercy, she flattened it.

This was disgusting to write. Burn this.

Right then. She made her decision and would be reading every last one.

Blair, I am man enough to admit it when I am—

She let out a long sigh. ”When you are what? Able to finish a sentence? Because the evidence suggests otherwise.”

The next one opened strong. ”I, Kael Ashenvale, do hereby offer my sincerest...” She tilted it and squinted. No luck. A wine stain had turned the rest of it into abstract art. It could’ve been ”apologies,” ”regrets,” or ”fuck this shit.”

Next. By now she had a system: read then judge.

Sorry. — K. Underneath it, he added: I mean it. Fuck.

Different ink. Different hour. Different blood-alcohol level, she suspected. He’d come back to the desk, looked at the two-word apology, and decided it needed a footnote and a swear word.

Blair. This gift is for you. I’m sorry I’ve been a terrible brother.

She had already decided she would be opening that box long ago. But this confirmed it. Not opening it would be rude.

As your elder brother I offer my— Screw this—

”As your elder brother I offer my WHAT, Kael. We’ll never know because you wrote screw this.”

I’m not good at this shit. But I apologize.

”Finally. Understatement of the century,” she agreed.

To Blair. From Kael.

”No apology attempted there. Innovative approach.”

Dear Blair, This is painful to write and I hate it. Screw it. I’m fucking sorry.

She looked at Gerald.

”Not a word about this circus.”

Gerald, being a professional, said nothing.

Her eyes drifted to Kael next. Still asleep.

She picked up the box. A lopsided red bow sat on top. The handiwork of a man who could tie knots on a battlefield blindfolded. But, apparently, decorative bows were too fucking feminine for his brain because there was zero practical value outside of looking pretty.

One loop was noticeably longer than the other. He’d seen it. She knew he’d seen it because the shorter one had been tugged, which made it worse.

Without an ounce of hesitation, she pulled the ribbon loose, ruining his bow, and cracked the box open.

The item inside stopped her cold. Her mother’s necklace. The one she used to wear every day. Heart pendant. White gold. Delicate and small. Just as Blair remembered. She hadn’t seen it since she was a girl. But here it was. And Kael had found the damn thing.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. It did not go down. It sat there, stubborn and enormous, the kind of lump that warns a woman she is about to cry against her will.

Her eyes welled and a tear fell. Goddamnit.

She wiped it away with the back of her hand and forced a steadying breath.

Then she reached for the pendant. The second her fingers made contact, it flashed white, bright enough to make her flinch. The metal also felt warm against her skin, like it had been waiting for her.

Kael shifted in the bed. A small sound, half-groan, half-mumble, the prelude to consciousness that Blair had heard enough times to know she had about five seconds before his audience radar kicked in and found her standing at his desk holding his failed apology breakdown in her hands.

Oh fuck.

She moved.

The notes went back on the desk how they were. Three were re-crumpled. The bow was next. She tied it fast, fingers flying, muscle memory from years of gift-wrapping circles around every man in this family.

Shit. It was too perfect. Suspiciously perfect. If Kael saw this bow he’d know immediately that someone with actual skill had touched it.

She pulled one loop deliberately crooked to match the disaster he’d produced. Sabotaging her own work to protect his feelings. This was a new low. Or a new high. She genuinely couldn’t tell anymore. The line between those two had dissolved somewhere around apology note number six.

Kael’s breathing changed.

Blair crossed the room in four strides, dropped into the brown chair, folded her arms, crossed her legs, and arranged her face into the expression of a woman who had been sitting there the entire time.

”Gerald,” Kael muttered. His mouth twitched, then his breathing evened out again.

False alarm.

She let out a breath that lasted four full seconds and carried the emotional weight of approximately everything she’d felt in the last five minutes.

”That was close,” she told the rug.

That’s when a rumbling noise came from Maddox’s chest, loud enough to rattle the nightstand. It was definitely his dragon, but it didn’t sound like growling.

It sounded like... No.

Was Maddox’s dragon purring?

Yes. That’s what it was. His dragon was fucking purring.

Kael’s dragon started purring too, louder than Maddox’s, like they were having a contest.

Blair’s hand flew to her mouth as she stared in disbelief.

She couldn’t look away.

Two full-grown dragons were purring in perfect, obnoxious harmony that kept getting louder. But the unconscious cuddle orgy continued like it was completely normal. How the hell they all stayed asleep was beyond her.

Still purring, Kael’s hand found the edge of the blanket Blair had just tucked around Guinevere. He pulled it towards himself, as if he wasn’t already under his goddamn covers.

From behind Guinevere, Maddox pulled it back. The tug-of-war lasted four seconds, conducted entirely in sleep, before the blanket ripped down the middle.

”Oh for fuck’s sake,” Blair snapped.

Too loud.

Kael’s eyes flew open.