Chapter 420: Kael’s Emotional Support Wolf

Kael adjusted his emotional support wolf on his lap. "What’s wrong? Does this make you uncomfortable?"

"IT MAKES EVERYONE UNCOMFORTABLE," Blair replied.

"Good. Now you know how I feel watching my sister get domesticated by a wolf under a table because they were in a situation earlier with adrenaline and now they think they love each other when none of it is real." He looked at Blair. "You’re welcome."

"Kael, you cannot compare holding someone’s hand to putting a grown woman on your lap in a legal proceeding," Blair snapped.

"You’re right. Holding hands is worse. Holding hands leads to things. This leads to nothing. She’s a blanket. I am cold."

"You are a dragon. You are never cold."

"Emotionally cold, Blair. You are doing it to me."

Guinevere tried to stand. Kael’s arms locked around her waist and she was back on his lap before her boots touched the floor. The cuffs jingled. Briggs stared at his notes. Damon looked at the wall.

"Bad wolf girl," Kael stated, readjusting her. One arm under her knees. One behind her shoulders. Just a dragon cradling a fully-grown, cuffed, glowing, crimson-faced woman against her will.

"Kael. Put me down," Guinevere said.

"No."

"Kael."

"Guinevere."

Brennan looked at them. Looked at his hands. Looked back at them.

"Put me DOWN," Guinevere ordered, voice firm.

"Can’t. You’re my rebuttal. Rebuttals don’t walk."

Blair crossed her arms. "Kael. This is awkward for her and for literally every person in this room."

"Now you know how it feels. I watched you kiss a wolf in a closet. I watched him put a necklace on your neck. You want to compare notes on discomfort? I have a LIST. I have SUBSECTIONS."

He pulled Guinevere closer. Lifted her. Kissed her forehead. She was crimson from her collarbone to her hairline.

Beta Draven had been watching from his chair with the practiced neutrality of a man who had witnessed two decades of political dysfunction and considered himself unshockable.

He was wrong.

His eyes moved from Kael to Guinevere. BOTH dragon brothers AND the wolf king. He gave a nod. Kael had protected her the night she was abducted. It was obvious he cared for her. New information absorbed.

Then he remembered Landon Solveil was also her fated mate. Just when he thought he had seen it all, he stood corrected. He was going to need a few seconds to buffer.

"No," Blair said slowly. "Not the same thing. She’s in your lap. But while we’re airing things out, I saw you MARK her. You and Maddox. At the same time. Burned into my mind for the rest of eternity that I will never be able to erase."

"And you saw what happened after. I CAUGHT THE RUNES FROM HER, BLAIR. They are SPREADING. Across my BODY. In PATTERNS. She GAVE them to me."

The room went silent except for Guinevere’s cuffs that jingled because her face was in her hands.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Blair snapped.

"I contextualized a comparison," Kael replied. "You started it by holding a hand. I finished it by citing precedent. This is how arguments work. Briggs, tell them."

Briggs did not tell them.

Blair looked at Damon. Damon looked at Blair. Neither let go.

"You are using Guinevere as a prop in a sibling argument," Blair said without looking away from Damon. "That is a new low, even for you."

"I am using Guinevere as a VISUAL AID. There’s a difference. A prop doesn’t have a heartbeat. She has a heartbeat. I can feel it. It’s very fast right now because she’s embarrassed and that is YOUR fault for starting this."

"MY fault? You picked her up like a SUITCASE."

"I picked her up like a STATEMENT. The statement is: actions have consequences. Your action was a wolf’s hand. My consequence is a wolf girl on my lap. We’re even."

"We are NOT even. She is mortified. Look at her face."

Guinevere’s face was still in her hands. She had stopped trying to leave and had accepted her role as a visual aid.

"She’s fine. She’s comfortable. Guinevere, tell her you’re comfortable."

"I am the opposite of comfortable," she said through her hands.

"She’s adjusting."

"KAEL."

"BLAIR."

"PUT HER DOWN."

"LET GO OF HIS HAND."

"MAKE ME."

"I AM IN PRISON, BLAIR. IF I WASN’T, I WOULD. IT IS THE ONLY REASON THAT WOLF STILL HAS FINGERS."

"You know what?" Blair stood up. The chair scraped back. Every head at the table tracked the movement because Blair Drakencrest standing up with that expression was a weather event. "You want to play this game?"

She sat down in Damon’s lap. Crossed her legs. Folded her arms. Stared at Kael.

Damon’s hands hovered in the air for exactly one second before settling around her. Kael’s eyes narrowed onto his hands.

"There," Blair said. "Now we match."

"GET OFF HIM."

"You first."

"THAT IS NOT THE SAME THING."

"It is EXACTLY the same thing. You have a woman on your lap. I have a man under mine. Equal. Balanced. Symmetrical. You should be thrilled. You love symmetry."

"I WILL SET THIS TABLE ON FIRE."

Damon had not moved.

He was not complaining. His face said neutral. His ears said otherwise. His heartbeat was a hummingbird that Kael could track from across the room.

"You’re enjoying this," Kael accused him.

"I am sitting," Damon replied.

"You are sitting with a PRINCESS on you."

"She sat on me. I am the surface. Surfaces don’t have opinions."

"YOUR EARS ARE RED, DAMON. SURFACES DON’T BLUSH."

Beta Draven looked at Briggs. Briggs looked at Beta Draven. The attorney’s pen had stopped moving because the minutes had crossed a threshold that no legal document could contain.

"Are you getting all of this?" Beta Draven asked quietly.

"I stopped documenting when the princess sat on the wolf," Briggs replied. "My professional liability has a ceiling and we passed it."

"Smart."

"Survival instinct. It’s all I have left."

Across the table, Blair uncrossed her legs and recrossed them the other direction. The shift was deliberate. The shift was aimed at Kael. The shift said I can do this all day.

Kael’s eye was twitching at a frequency that suggested medical intervention.