Chapter 459: Oh Come ON. Bad Dragon Boy.

"One more time. The pool ban. Play the pool ban!" the God of War commanded.

The footage backed up to Maddox kneeling at the edge of the pool.

"I AM the lifeguard, Solveil. And your pool privileges are REVOKED."

The terrace lost all remaining composure. The God of Strategy slid down in his chair. The Moon Goddess had her face in both hands and her shoulders were shaking.

"His BROTHER rated it a FOUR."

"The wolf AGREED."

"Oh. Me next!" The God of Philosophy clapped his hands three times. "Take it back to Solveil calling Ashenvale small!"

Rewind.

"Think of it like a candle versus the sun. Yours is small."

The God of Thunder doubled over so hard he knocked the Goddess of Fate’s sundial off her armrest.

"Go back. I want to hear the King Of Light’s swimming question again," he cried, in between laughs.

The footage rolled back to the moment three men rounded the path and found Landon talking to Guinevere like they were the only two people in the kingdom.

"Will it know how to swim on its own?"

The terrace lost it again. Someone’s drink went over, dumping onto a village below. The God of War slapped his knee so hard the sound echoed across the celestial plane.

"Twenty says the Alpha wolf pretends it cannot swim for lessons," the God of War wheezed, wiping his eyes.

???

SOLVEIL - THE KING’S PRIVATE COURTYARD

If anyone walked through that door right now, they would find Guinevere naked because her dress was vaporized by four men, all currently unconscious with their pants down, and the only defense she had was "they started it" and "they started it" was technically true but visually unconvincing.

None of them stirred. All four were glowing gold, no runes left on their skin, just that warm Luminari light pulsing under the surface like they’d each swallowed a small sun and were digesting it.

Gold water had healed her and Nicholas in the tree a few days ago. There was zero doubt in Guinevere’s mind that this gold water did that as well.

Great for her. But also problematic. Her venom had knocked them out and she wasn’t sure how the healing water affected that. How long before one of them blinked awake and asked what the hell happened? She had no clue.

Ideally they would wake up with their pants on and no memory of what just occurred.

The plan was simple: pull up four sets of pants, find clothes, and pretend none of this had happened.

Easy.

She started with Nicholas, because his pants weren’t going to pull themselves up. He was draped along the steps like he had checked into a resort and left a glowing review.

His unconscious face was the most relaxed she had ever seen it. Nicholas Shadowfell, who carried the weight of a kingdom in his jaw alone, looked like a man who had finally put the weight down and was in no hurry to pick it back up.

Where were his trousers?

Wrapped around his thighs underwater. She gripped the waistband and pulled.

Nothing moved. The pants did not move. Nicholas did not move. The pants said no.

She pulled harder. The pants considered it and said no again.

"Shoot. Please cooperate. One of us has to," she grunted to him. To his leg. To the pants.

Nothing.

"I pulled you down. I can pull you up. That’s how pants work."

The pants disagreed.

She braced against the step and leaned back with her whole body weight, which, given that she was scrawny and he was a wolf king, produced roughly the leverage of a wet kitten trying to relocate a boulder.

Every pull made Nicholas move sideways on the stairs, closer to Maddox.

"I am not leaving you like this. I am not leaving the Alpha King of Nyros displayed like a centerfold in a foreign king’s pool. Pull UP."

The fabric peeled up one inch. Then his leg flopped sideways and undid her progress.

"Oh, come ON."

Finally, she got them up. It took the kind of full-contact wrestling she hoped the gods were not watching. The gods were watching. The gods had been watching all night. The gods had popcorn.

Once she jammed the waistband home, she gave it one firm pat like she was sealing it, and fucked off before her arms gave out.

One down. Three to go. The three were not going to be easier.

It turned out that sex was not the most physically demanding act of her evening. This was much more difficult.

Maddox was next.

She dug both hands into the fabric, counted to three under her breath like it might magically make him lighter, and yanked.

His whole body slid sideways on the step closer to Nicholas. His pants stayed where they were.

"You’re joking."

She heaved again.

Maddox slid again so his head came to rest on Nicholas’s shoulder.

She froze.

The Dragon King of Velkaris was now unconscious, pantless, and nuzzled into the shoulder of the Wolf King of Nyros.

She gently moved his head back to where it had been resting before, on the step behind him, out of the water. It gently slid back to Nicholas’s shoulder.

She stared at it and decided that was a tomorrow problem. Pants first.

One. Two. Three. Up. Just kidding, not up.

The count was a lie. Counting did not make unconscious men lighter.

She lifted one of his legs, which was heavier than it looked, and tried again.

Success. Done.

Two down.

Kael was halfway out of the water, upper body on the stone, lower half still submerged, pants at his knees. Even unconscious, Kael’s smirk very clearly said "I lasted the longest."

"Bad dragon boy," she muttered as she hauled his trousers up. They barely moved.

One. Two. Three. Another tug that moved them exactly one inch. Gravity was being a real dick about this one.

"You did last the longest. I’ll give you that."

Another inch.

Done. Next.

Landon’s pants were gone.