I Left The Wolf King Who Loved Me For The Dragon King Chapter 07

I Left The Wolf King Who Loved Me For The Dragon King Chapter 07

The midnight brutes were gone, scattered by the mere presence of the beast outside.

I forced my blurring vision toward the shattered window frame, finally getting a clear look at the colossus blotting out the sky.

It was a massive dragon, draped in obsidian-veined crimson scales, with eyes that burned like molten gold and a long, whip-like tail ending in a jagged arrowhead. One of her leathery wings was severely torn, a gaping puncture marring the membrane.

She held her position outside for a brief moment before shifting. The crimson scales receded, and a second later, a tall woman with dark red hair and sharp features vaulted over the stone sill, landing lightly in the dust before me.

“I am Aurora Ashenstar, sister to the Dragon King,” she said, her voice arctic and direct. “I have flown across the caldera to negotiate your alliance with Draekon.”

I dug my fingernails into the floorboards, trying with everything left in me to drag myself out of the pool of my own blood, but my muscles entirely failed me.

Aurora let out a cold, sharp huff. Her expression remained guarded, but she stepped forward, hauling me off the stone with a firm grip and anchoring me onto the edge of the mattress.

She pulled a heavy roll of linen bandages from her pack, her hands moving with practiced, efficient strokes as she began to bind my weeping lacerations.

“You certainly don’t seem to be held in high regard in this house,” she murmured, her tone laced with casual mockery.

“Thank you, Lady Ashenstar,” I whispered, forcing the words past my cracked lips. I could read the raw sincerity hidden beneath her harsh exterior. “Thank you for intervening.”

“Save your gratitude. I came here strictly for business,” Aurora countered, tying off the linen. “I came to tell you… if you have no desire to be bound to the Dragon King, I will annul the contract myself.”

I blinked, the shock momentarily numbing the pain. “What?”

“Come now, Lady Selwyn. Surely you aren’t ignorant of the whispers surrounding House Ashenstar?” Aurora let out a mirthless scoff. “The apex predators of the volcanic wastes. The most volatile fire in the realms. And the cursed twins…”

She went still for a beat, a heavy silence settling over her before she continued. “I will give you the unvarnished truth. My brother has been struck by the Lunar Deity’s curse. He has less than six months before his core collapses and he wastes away to ash. If you marry him, you will only be consumed by his fracturing, unguided fire. And as for me? I am no better off. You saw my wing.”

I recalled the jagged tear in her leathery wing, the phantom ache of it evident in her posture.

“I am a ‘wingless’ hybrid. Flight is an agony for me,” Aurora shrugged, trying to project an air of complete indifference, but I could hear the deep, lingering trauma bleeding through her words.

“Aurora… may I call you that?” I asked, looking directly into her golden eyes. “I am deeply grateful for your honesty. But my answer remains unchanged. I still choose to marry Draekon.”

Aurora stared at me, thoroughly bewildered. Then, a look of sudden comprehension crossed her features. “You’re mad. Or you’re simply desperate enough to use a dying dragon to escape this pack. Fine. I can respect that. I loathe wolves who prey on the defenseless anyway.”

“Once the rites are performed and you’re officially across our borders, I’ll smuggle you out to a safe haven in the neutral territories.”

“That is only part of the reason,” I murmured, lowering my head as I gently reached out to clasp her hand.

I wasn’t just fleeing the wolves. I wanted to pay Aurora back for sparing my life.

If Draekon truly suffered from the Lunar Deity’s curse…

Then as a daughter sired by a high-ranking Alpha line, carrying the unblemished celestial magic of the moon, I was the only soul in the realms who could shatter it.

…

Ten winters had passed—no, ten days later, my lacerations had knit into angry pink scars, my body functional enough to move without collapsing. Today was the date originally marked for my binding ceremony to Ulvarr.

The lower courtyard was choked with trunks of silver, silk, and gold coin.

Bryony stood among the tribute, her laughter ringing through the keep. “Look at it all, sister! These are all from the Alpha King himself. He has officially petitioned for my hand. I will be his Luna.”

She stroked a bolt of fine velvet, casting a condescending look over her shoulder. “The greatest Alphas and Kings are warring to claim me. And you? You’re left to drag out your miserable, impoverished existence with that pathetic vanguard scout.”

I tilted my head, my expression vacant. “And what of Ulvarr? Do you no longer harbor affections for him?”

The color instantly drained from Bryony’s face, her jaw tightening. “Who cares for the sentimentality of a common soldier? I only permitted his courtship because I hoped he would be useful enough to help me run before the dragon’s carriage arrived. But now that the Alpha King has claimed me, Ulvarr is utterly worthless.”

A dark, mocking smile touched my lips. Ulvarr believed he was a master of manipulation, a king playing with pieces on a board.

Suddenly, a scout burst through the heavy iron doors, his breathing ragged as his voice echoed through the rafters. “Elders! Disaster! The Dragon King’s core is failing rapidly—his vanguard has just arrived at the border, demanding the Selwyn bride be delivered before sundown!”

Bryony began to tremble violently, the pride dropping from her face. “How can his time be running out so quickly? No! Father, please! I am the King’s chosen Luna, I cannot be thrown into the caldera!”

Grimm’s heart bled for her, his features contorting in frantic worry as he hauled her into his arms. “Never, my darling. Calm yourself… I would never allow you to endure such horror…”

His gaze shifted across the room, landing heavily on me. I offered him a single, indifferent nod before turning my back on them and climbing the grand staircase.

Waiting for me in my cramped quarters was a magnificent white bridal gown, sent by House Ashenstar.

I slipped into the heavy silk. It was, without a doubt, the most exquisite garment that had ever touched my skin.

A floorboard creaked behind me. I turned to find Ulvarr standing near the threshold, a look of unvarnished awe spreading across his striking features.

“You are breathtaking,” he murmured, his tone dripping with that familiar, honeyed warmth, as though the silver-tipped whip had never left his commander’s hand.

“I don’t even have the words to describe how fiercely I desire you. Tonight, you will finally wear my mark. It feels entirely like a dream…”

I coldly stepped back, removing myself from his reach.

He didn’t pursue, but he reached into his leather jerkin and produced two small, pale tablets, setting them on the wooden vanity. “These are sleeping draughts. I want you to rest deeply this afternoon, sweet. I want you to have all your vitality when we complete our mate binding tonight.”

I stared at the white pills, the sheer, predictable calculation of his strategy laid bare before me. He wanted me unconscious so his men could bind me like cattle and chuck me into the tribute carriage meant for Bryony.

He needn’t have bothered with the poison.

I let out a low, mirthless laugh, scooping the tablets into my palm. “Ensure you take them,” Ulvarr whispered, taking a few steps back into the corridor. “I will see you at twilight.”

The moment his footsteps faded down the hall, I tossed the chemical tablets into the hearth, watching them dissolve into black ash.

Then, adjusting the heavy silk of my veil, I slipped out through the western servant’s gate, heading directly toward the iron carriage waiting at the forest boundary.

There, hidden in the shadows of the pines, Aurora was already waiting for me.

…

Back in the wolf-keep, Ulvarr reclined against the velvet sofa, letting his eyes close for a brief respite.

But his mind refused to settle. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of Aylin standing in that bridal gown flashed behind his lids—so radiant, so striking, like a star pulled from the midnight sky.

A sudden, unfamiliar prickle of reluctance tugged at his chest. For a fraction of a second, he hated the thought of delivering her to the dragon’s embers.

But he quickly dismissed the sentiment. He had already commanded his shadow warriors to keep watch; the moment Draekon succumbed to the curse, they would breach the peak and extract her.

He would swoop in as her sole savior.

Aylin would look to him as her only anchor in the world.

Even if the title of Luna remained with Bryony, Aylin would never escape the palm of his hand.

As the warmth of the hearth washed over him, Ulvarr drifted into a light sleep.

He dreamed. For the first time in winters, his mind pulled him back to that narrow, dark alleyway from his youth.

He dreamed of the night his political rivals had cornered him, breaking his body, and a young girl had bent down through the rain, hoisting his dead weight onto her slight shoulders.

The memory of that fierce, stubborn warmth bled through the fabric of the dream, striking his chest with such force that his eyes snapped open.

He sat up, his breathing suddenly shallow.

Before he could steady his pulse, the iron doors of his private study were thrown open. His vanguard commander stumbled in, his face entirely devoid of color as he gasped for air.

“My King… we breached Aylin’s quarters as ordered. The room is bare. She is gone.”

Ulvarr’s eyes narrowed into slits, his aura erupting with lethal force. “She discovered the decoy? Dammit! Who leaked the strategy to her?!”

“No—no, Your Majesty, that’s not it,” the commander stammered, backing away in terror. “We confronted Grimm Selwyn. He claims… he claims Lady Aylin has already crossed the border with the dragon elders.”

Ulvarr surged to his feet, his jaw locking.

But before he could take a single step toward the staircase, a sudden, white-hot agony ripped through the bones of his legs.

Though he was a beast who had survived a hundred battlefields, the sheer, crushing violence of the pain snapped his spine.

With a dull, heavy thud, the Alpha King dropped straight to his knees, collapsing onto the cold stone floor.