Landon turned his head slowly towards Nicholas.
"I'm her fated mate. Who the hell are you?"
The subtext of his tone was clear: I have been dodging the Dragon King's fists for an hour, healed his wife, threw a blanket on the floor, and now consider myself part of the established party and we are not accepting walk-ins.
"Shut your mouth, Solveil. She's MY fated mate," Maddox snapped.
"No. She's MINE," Nicholas's wolf announced through him.
The room went still for ten full seconds. Maddox glared at Landon, who was glaring at Nicholas, who was glaring at Maddox, in a beautiful go-fuck-yourself circle.
Landon broke the circle first, glancing down at Guinevere.
"My mark is the largest on her neck," he stated, as if it was medical truth and not a divine dick-measurement. "The light is part of her soul. These are observable facts, Drakencrest."
Ryker pinched the bridge of his nose. "Here we go again."
