Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King novel Chapter 341

Chapter 341: One, Two, Oh Fuck

The Dragon King of Velkaris had just told the Wolf King of Nyros that he was suppressing an investigation into his wife’s actions to protect her mental health, and both men thought they were talking about the same actions, and neither of them were, and the resulting goodwill between them was built on a foundation of mutual misunderstanding so structurally unsound that a stiff breeze could collapse it into an international incident.

"That’s generous of you," Nicholas said, and he meant it. Genuinely. The man who had been marked by another king’s wife was telling the husband that his grace was generous. The husband received the compliment about grace and mentally filed it under Shadowfell approves of our cover-up strategy.

"She’s my wife," Maddox said, as if that explained everything. "I will handle the politics. She handles the recovery."

Nicholas gave a nod of respect so sincere it could have been framed.

Kael’s brain had been running a second thread underneath the conversation. A quiet, persistent calculation that had been gaining speed since Nicholas walked through the door.

The runes.

Nicholas still had them. Faded, but visible. White lines tracing the inside of his forearms, catching the firelight when he moved.

Kael had them.

Maddox had them.

The runes were contagious through skin contact. That’s what everyone had been saying. That’s what Guinevere believed. Casual transmission. A magical rash.

Except they weren’t casual at all, were they?

Kael got his after Lunaris. After being inside her. Maddox got his after she marked him. Fangs in his shoulder. Her wolf surging. Mutual claim. Runes followed like a receipt.

Kael looked at the runes on Nicholas’s arms. Faded but present. The same pattern. The same pulse. The same light that had been crawling across his own skin since the moment Guinevere became his.

Guinevere’s heart stopped in a jungle and Nicholas got it started again by marking her. Nicholas Shadowfell had died on the corridor floor and his heart stopped. Magically, it started again.

Two plus two didn’t equal seven. Kael wanted to face palm with his whole soul but his arms were holding Guinevere so he didn’t.

She had bitten Nicholas on a corridor floor. The runes didn’t lie.

Kael looked at Maddox, who was talking to Nicholas like they were golf buddies planning a weekend trip. Two kings discussing their shared mate’s wellbeing with the mutual respect of men who believed they understood the full picture and were missing a canvas the size of Velkaris.

He looked down at Guinevere, unconscious and glowing in his lap. The woman who had turned his life, his brother’s life, and apparently the entire wolf continent into a situation that would require a diagram and a priest.

He looked at Nicholas, who was a good man. A genuinely good man. A man who had died for her and come back for her and was currently sitting in another man’s chambers offering helpful intelligence about a crime.

Kael looked up at the ceiling, where the gods were almost certainly watching this.

The gods looked back.

A thought formed with the absolute clarity of a man who had just solved an equation he wished he hadn’t started.

Maddox doesn’t know about Nicholas.

Nicholas doesn’t know about me.

I know about both of them.

And I am going to keep my mouth shut so goddamn tight they will need a crowbar to open it.

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