Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

”Shit.”

Kael was on the floor next to her with his hands on her face before she could speak, tilting her chin, checking her eyes, then dropping to the blood on her shirt. His torso was wrapped in bandages and his body looked like it had been used as a punching bag.

Did he look that bad when she left? Maybe his bruises were doing what hers were doing.

”How did—” He didn’t finish. His arms pulled her against his chest so fast her breath caught.

Warmth flooded through her body. Familiar and both of them lit gold.

”I missed you.” It slipped out of her mouth but it was the truth.

His throat bobbed once. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He was frozen.

”I was worried you were going to leave before I got to say goodbye,” she added, swallowing the lump in her throat that had no business being there about a situation that hadn’t happened. But she would have missed him.

She had seen dragons flying during the journey to Greyhall Crossing and thought they were his pack.

A tear slid down her face before she could stop it.

Then his lips pressed into her hair. Her temple. Her forehead. The corner of her eye. Everywhere he could reach without letting go.

Each kiss landed like he was checking she was real. Like if he stopped, she might disappear again, and he had already survived that once tonight and would not survive it twice.

Her arms locked around him like he was the only fixed point left in a world that had been spinning for hours. He was warm. He was solid. He made her feel safe.

Then her side screamed.

She flinched hard enough that her whole body jerked and a hiss slipped through her teeth.

Kael’s entire body went rigid against her. He pulled back but did not let go. ”What is it?”

His eyes dropped to her side where blood was blooming through the fabric, dark and spreading.

She was sitting up slightly because he had pulled her to him. Without a word, he lowered her back to the ground and his fingers moved towards it. She stiffened. Instinct, not choice. The stiffening hurt worse which made her wince harder, which made the wound worse.

”No, let me see. I’ll be gentle.”

He was already pulling the hem of her shirt before he finished the sentence. It was not a request. And his tone was softer than she had ever heard him.

As soon as he peeled the fabric back, his body stiffened. A noise came from his chest that resembled a foghorn crying. It took her a moment to understand that the sound was coming from his dragon.

He grunted as his grey eyes surged dragon gold. Every muscle was locked in a war between holding her gently and something else, and the war was not going well.

She could feel a twister of his emotions in her chest like they were her own and there were too many things to sort through. Rage tangled in protectiveness. Grief tangled with relief. Love so deep it made her ache. A possessiveness that circled back to rage. She didn’t know if all of those were for her or why he carried them, but the weight of it was crushing and she wanted to make him feel better.

”Don’t worry. I’m okay, Kael.”

Her hand found his and she gave it a squeeze. His gaze dropped to it, her fingers wrapped around his, and something flickered across his face somewhere between pain, grief, and exasperation.

”Trust me when I say this, you look worse,” she added.

His eyes lifted to hers, gold fading back to grey. She flashed a grin that had no business being on her face right now and cost her more than it looked.

The space between them went quiet and heavy for one long second before he exhaled again, slower this time, like he was choosing not to fall apart right there on the floor.

”Did you get stabbed?”

”No—”

She glanced down at it for the first time and stopped mid-sentence. The gauze was soaked and the bandage looked like she did it in the dark. Adrenaline was a liar and she’d been trusting it for hours.

She blinked at it a few times, the room tilting slightly.

For one dizzy second she thought she might actually pass out, and the idea of leaving him alone scared her more than the blood.

”Hey.” Kael’s hand was on her jaw, guiding her face back to his. ”Look at me. I’ve got you, baby.”

He settled onto the floor, pulling her head in his lap and applying the kind of pressure that said he’d done this before and knew exactly how much force to use. His other hand stayed on her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone.

The silence that followed was absolute. Kael didn’t look away from Guinevere. The only movement was the slow, relentless press of his hand against her side and the barely controlled tremor running through his shoulders.

He was falling apart. She could feel it through his hands, through everything he wasn’t saying.

The door opened.

A glowing man stopped cold in the doorway, taking in the scene: his patient on the floor, out of bed, holding a bleeding woman in his lap, actively undoing six hours of medical work.

”Young Dragon, you are doing the opposite of what you need to be doing.”

Kael looked up. Every ounce of charm, every joke, every deflection he’d ever used was gone. What was left was raw.

”Forget about me. Can you help her?”

His voice cracked on the last word and the healer’s eyes flicked up in surprise. Kael didn’t seem to care. His eyes were back on the blood seeping between his fingers like it was a personal betrayal.

The healer looked at Guinevere then at the bandage job that would haunt his professional dignity for the rest of his career.

The healer knelt.

Kael’s hand slid from her cheek and found her fingers. He didn’t loosen his grip even when the healer’s glowing hands reached for the wound. He stayed exactly where he was. Her anchor, her shield, her unfinished war, and refused to let go.