Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 214

Chapter 214: A Whine Or A Growl. Both Cute.

"I told her to stay behind the rock... did she stay... of course not," Kael grumbled, his eyes still closed.

"Let’s get him to my chambers," Guinevere said.

"Yes, Luna."

"Princess is just fine."

Gavyn Holt and a warrior looked at her, then at each other. A brief, complicated exchange passed between them that she didn’t have time for.

Whatever political crisis was brewing could get the fuck in line behind the seventeen other crises she was currently managing. The queue was long and the customer service was terrible.

"Yes, Princess," they said.

Good enough. New motto.

Gavyn and the warrior hooked Kael’s arms over their shoulders and hauled him upright.

Kael’s head lolled forward. His feet scraped the stone like they had given up. He mumbled something into Gavyn’s shoulder that sounded like "I can walk."

"No, you absolutely cannot," Guinevere said from behind them. "Let them help you, Kael."

"Can," he insisted. His legs disagreed so loudly that Gavyn nearly dropped him.

In hindsight, the top floor of the tower furthest from their starting point might have been an oversight on her end. Whoops. He weighed more than his size suggested, which was already considerable, and both men were sweating by the second flight.

"You’re... my wolves now... I adopted you... no take-backs..."

They lowered him into her bed.

"You two are my favorites. Don’t tell Tyler." Kael’s tone was serious, but his eyes were closed.

The two warriors stood there a second too long, matching looks of pure ’what the fuck just happened’ on both faces.

"Nice bed... too many pillows... who needs this many..." Kael added.

Unconscious, stabbed, bleeding through bandages, and his first observation was interior design criticism. The man had priorities.

The healer arrived sixty seconds later, already carrying supplies, already sweating, already wearing the expression of a man who had treated more bodies tonight than he had in the previous calendar year.

He took one look at the dragon, one look at Guinevere, and wisely asked zero personal questions.

He cut Kael’s shirt open and went quiet.

The stab wound below his left ribs was deep, clean-edged, and surrounded by a fading web of black that looked like veins drawn in ink.

Guinevere’s hand flew to her mouth.

"Is it infected?" she asked.

"No, Your Grace. This is something else."

"Is it Dark Fae magic?"

She asked the question but she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

"I think so. He’s not the only one," the old man replied. "I will clean and wrap it."

"If you use... that green shit on me... I will personally...," Kael said point blank, but his eyes were still closed.

The healer used the green shit on him. He cleaned the wound, put green paste on it, and wrapped his torso in bandages. The dragon did not personally anything because the dragon was unconscious.

"Keep him still. I’ll be back to check on him in a few hours," the healer said, gathering his supplies.

"Thank you."

The healer left. The door closed.

She stood beside the bed for a moment, looking at the unconscious man who had been sleep-talking, sleep-threatening, and sleep-critiquing her pillow count. Keeping him still was going to be a full-time goddamn job.

She reached to pull a blanket up around him. The second her fingers brushed his skin, both of them glowed gold.

That sensation of electricity came back. Sparks bit into her fingertips.

"...that’s nice... keep doing that..." he groaned, eyes still closed.

She ripped her hand away like it was on fire.

The glow died instantly.

Her hand tingled. Her face was hot. She was blushing at a comatose man. Rock bottom had a basement and she’d just moved in.

She reached out again. Touched his arm.

Mate.

Something is blocking. We need to unblock.

What do you mean blocking? she thought back.

There’s a door inside us. Locked.

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