Chapter 282: Surprise, Motherfuckers. It’s Kael.

This next domino is pure, unfiltered Guinevere Lunaris bullshit.

A daddy walked into a circus and started dickering over terms with a disgraced dynasty’s last dipshit while a dragon unknowingly broadcasted a play-by-play to every damn wolf in Greyhall Crossing and dickgoblins demanded dibs in the background.

The summit agenda was dead.

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DOMINO 64: THE DEVIL’S FAMILY PORTRAIT

Renwick Lunaris rounded the corner.

He stopped.

The scene arranged itself for him like a painting commissioned by the devil.

A dead king on the floor with a Gamma kneeling over him.

His daughter in dragon-iron cuffs, gagged, bleeding from her throat. Her eyes were red-rimmed and locked on the body that wasn’t moving, fighting Tharos’s grip with the desperation of a woman who had stopped caring about the blade at her neck because something worse was happening ten feet in front of her.

Behind Tharos Stonehowl, two Dark Fae stood in the corridor with the casual entitlement of creatures who had been handed VIP passes and were merely observing nature. Eighteen armed wolves lined both walls. Six of which were proudly half naked and belonged to Lunaris.

Renwick’s eyes moved from Tharos to the Dark Fae to the blade to his daughter and back to Tharos. He had already decided this was a negotiation, not a rescue.

Guinevere wasn’t listening to what was being said because every nerve in her body was pulling towards Nicholas Shadowfell on the ground. His chest wasn’t moving and his eyes were open and they were looking at the ceiling instead of at her and that was wrong. That was wrong in a way that made her ribs feel like they were collapsing inward with a grief so vast she didn’t have the language or framework for it.

She pulled against the cuffs until the dragon iron and silver bit through skin and she felt the blood run warm down her wrists and she didn’t stop because stopping meant accepting the stillness on that floor and she was not doing that. She didn’t give a fuck that her father was there or that eighteen pairs of eyes were on her.

All she could hear was the sound of her wolf howling in her mind and the ringing in her ears that kept growing louder.

"You’re holding a daughter I sold, Tharos. She served her purpose. If you want to keep her, keep her. You’ll find out why I let her go."

"That’s bullshit, Lunaris, and we both know it. I have your highest value asset in my hands right now."

"Think about what you just said, Tharos. If she’s my highest-value asset, why would I put her in a deal with your father? I wouldn’t. Which means there was no deal. Which means your father took something without permission. And men who take things without permission face consequences. Pick a version and live with it."

1

"Don’t lawyer me, Lunaris," Tharos snapped. "I’ve sat across from men twice as smart as you and walked out with their signature on my terms. You can spin this however you want. I’ve got the girl. You’ve got words. Words don’t bleed."

It was at this point in time the Gods decided to unmute Kael Ashenvale who began providing commentary, completely unaware that he was broadcasting to every wolf in Greyhall Crossing.

Kael: Sir Screams-A-Lot still thinks he’s running this negotiation but Gramps has him.

It wasn’t mindlink. None of the wolves knew what it was or how to turn it off. And Guinevere was too focused on getting to Nicholas Shadowfell to hear it or give a flying fuck.

What did Tharos and Renwick do? They ignored it like reasonable dictators.

"The Dragon King turned your father into an urn, and I’ll happily give it to you. Consider it a family reunion."

"The dragon king," Stonehowl repeated flatly. "Bullshit. You sold her to some lower dragon lord who sold her to Shadowfell. It’s not hard to figure out. You lost your leverage, Lunaris."

The two Dark Fae behind him exchanged a pointed glance worth a thousand words.

Kael: He is really dumb. He is also going to be a pile of ash.