Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 163

Chapter 163: Bit His Wife Again Like A Chew Toy

"She’s fine."

"She’s UNCONSCIOUS, Maddox."

"Peacefully. There’s a spectrum."

He moved past her into the guest chambers, Guinevere limp in his arms, her wet hair leaving a trail of water across the stone like a slug made of silk.

He crossed to the bed and laid her on the bare mattress. The bedding was on the floor in a damning pile that told a very detailed story about round one four hours ago.

Neither the old Luminari healer nor Aldric commented on the lack of bedding. The absence of comment was louder than any comment would have been.

Without saying a word, Blair marched to the trunk, pulled out fur-lined slippers, and knelt to put them on Guinevere.

She caught Maddox watching.

"She hates cold floors," she said flatly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Unlike you, I pay attention to things that aren’t my own reflection."

Aldric approached the bed like a man who had accepted his fate. Sleeves up, magic humming, he swept his hands over her sternum. The resulting light made him sigh so deeply it sounded like it came from his ancestors.

"Why is she unconscious, Maddox?" Aldric asked, voice carrying the specific patience of a healer who already suspected the answer and was giving his king one chance to say it out loud.

"I may have shared dragon venom with her again."

The words left his mouth the way a confession leaves a man in a temple: quietly, quickly, and aimed at the floor.

Aldric’s hand stopped mid-sweep. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and held that position for three full seconds.

"How many."

"...We’re not doing the number right now."

"HOW MANY, MADDOX."

"Three."

"THREE?"

"It felt medically necessary at the time."

"NONE of those times were medically necessary. I would KNOW. I’m the medic. THREE TIMES in THIRTY-SIX HOURS, Maddox."

"I’m aware of the timeline, Aldric."

"Dragon venom in a marking bite is designed to be administered once. In the entire span of a mated pair’s life. You’ve tripled the dosage in a day and a half. On a woman who weighs as much as your armor."

"She seems fine."

"She’s UNCONSCIOUS."

"Peacefully unconscious."

Aldric opened his eyes and stared at Maddox with the quiet, burning disappointment of a healer who had been awake for nineteen hours saving one Drakencrest brother and was now discovering that the other one had bitten his wife again like a chew toy.

"If by peaceful you mean sedated, then yes."

The door opened behind them. Sterling entered, then froze mid-stride, his eyes landing on Guinevere’s neck.

His jaw did something it had never done in the recorded history of their friendship. It dropped. Fully. Without permission. His eyes darted: neck → Maddox → neck → destroyed sheets → neck again.

"Sterling," Maddox said. "Don’t."

Sterling closed his mouth. Opened it. Closed it again. Then, with a herculean effort, he put a lid on the comment fighting to escape: "I have no observations."

"Good. No opinions. Swallow them."

"Already swallowed, Commander. It’s coming back up."

"Swallow harder."

"I will say that yesterday I assumed the bruising was from a single, responsible marking after the ball, which I considered within the normal range because you didn’t remember the first time. I see now that I was operating on incomplete information."

"Are you finished?"

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