The most expensive woman in recorded history was running a fever high enough for a dragon to notice.
He had prepared for many things tonight. An unconscious wolf princess burning alive from his own flame was not on the list.
He carried her through the obsidian halls of Drakencrest keep.
Guards straightened as he passed. Fists to their chests.
"Your Majesty."
By morning, the guards would tell their wives. By noon, their wives would tell the market. By dinner, he'd have kidnapped a fae queen from a volcano and she was carrying twins.
He didn't spare them a glance. In his defense, he hadn't acknowledged anything that wasn't her in roughly twenty-four hours.
He shouldered open the door to the chamber across from his own. Enormous bed, stone hearth, arched windows overlooking the mountain range.
A room fit for royalty. He walked to the center of it, looked at the bed, looked at the door, and looked at the distance between this room and his.
"Yeah. No."
