Chained to old wounds

CH29

Tsuneo

A beat of silence passed. Then, she began. Her hands were gentle as she began cleaning the wound on my shoulder. It stung, but I barely noticed it around the throbbing pain of my claws. gouging into my flash.

“Nothing?”

I said nothing.

“Fine. Poison’s making you crazy?” I scoffed. “Not that then. Is it making you dragon hyper- aggressive for some reason?… Or is this like a beast gnawing its own leg off to get out of a trap?”

I set my jaw, and her hands went still.

“Tsuneo? Am I right?”

I hesitated. The memory of the hallucination and the searing pain was still fresh in my mind. Part of me wanted to confide in her, to tell her everything. But a deep–seated shame, honed by the sheer amount of damage this whole incident has caused, held me back.

“It’s complicated,” I mumbled, my gaze flickering away from her.

“Uncomplicate it.”

I scoffed. “It hurts.”

“Too simple, try again.”

“I didn’t watch my food and drink, and now everyone is paying the price.”

She went still. “You only eat off jade plates. Try again.”

I blinked and looked at her. She frowned. “I know poison probably messes with your head, but it

had to be something else.”

I blinked and nodded. All this time, we’d been working on the assumption that it was something I ate or drank because there were so few people who had access to my clothes, but I nodded. I didn’t remember much about the day I passed out or the days leading up to it.

Maybe.”

CH29

“Poison is pretty personal,” she said. “You’ve got to get in close. Your clothes or bath?”

“You make it sound like I should bathe in a jade bathtub.”

“Maybe you should.” I scoffed. “And this poison… are you sure it’s not e

something more?”

Shame burned in my throat once more. Was it so obvious, the way I was holding back? Taking a deep breath, I met her gaze head–on.

“Morgan,” I began, my voice low and measured. “There are things I can’t tell you yet. Things that are… complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it, husband.”

I smiled, hearing the words coming from her lips. Then, I eyed her.

“You’re manipulating me.”

“I hear that it’s the job of every wife, especially if it’s out of your own way.”

I laughed.

www

“I trust you, Morgan,” I said finally, the words heavier than I intended. “But trust is a two–way street. And right now, there are things I simply can’t share.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed her features, but she nodded slowly, accepting my answer for

now.

“Alright,” she said, her voice resigned. “So I’ll keep guessing and patch you up.”

With a practiced ease, she cleaned the wound, applying a cooling salve that soothed the burning ache. Her touch, though firm, was gentle, sending a wave of unexpected comfort through me.

As she worked, the silence stretched between us, no longer suffocating but strangely comfortable. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, a strange thought flickered to life – perhaps trust, like any bond, was built not on a foundation of complete openness but on a shared journey, one careful step at a time.

The thought gave me a sliver of hope. Maybe, just maybe, with time, I could tell her. For now, however, all I could do was focus on the gentle pressure of her touch and the quiet rhythm of her breathing, a soothing melody in the face of the storm that raged beyond the walls of my chambers.

“I’m guessing nerve pain,” she said finally. “A neurotoxin like a snake or a spider bite, maybe a

K 88%

CH29

paralytic.”

“You have medical knowledge… I thought you were a tailor’s daughter.”

“My father was a doctor, actually. His mother was a tailor, as is his sister.” Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

I sighed. “He has theories.”

“Doctor Shang?”

I nodded. The silence stretched once more, this time a comfortable one filled with the quiet thrum of our heartbeats running in time.

“And?”

The question hung in the air. A part of me recoiled but I pushed it away. What good would it do? Maybe her world had some sort of insight that could help… and I wanted her to believe that I trusted her. I wanted her to be closer to me.

“It…” I began, my voice rough. “It feels like it amplifies my primal instincts, strips away my control. There’s pain and hallucination, but also it’s hard to move. It… traps me in my mind.”

Shame burned in my throat as I spoke, the memory of the guttural roars and the razor–sharp claws flashing in my mind. I stole a glance at Morgan, bracing myself for a wave of disgust or fear. But her expression surprised me. Instead of repulsion, her eyes held a flicker of understanding, almost of empathy. Relief washed over me, tinged with a bittersweet pang. She didn’t judge me for succumbing to the poison’s effects. She simply understood.

“That sounds terrifying,” she whispered, her voice laced with concern. bit about the coma, so that must be… a treatment?

and I’m not hearing the

I nodded. I continued, describing the searing pain, the loss of control, the primal hunger that had threatened to consume me. As I spoke, the room seemed to shrink, the focus narrowing to the gentle pressure of her hand on my shoulder and her scent. I felt sleepy and oddly safe.

I opened my eyes and looked at her. She met my gaze. The tension in the room crackled a potent mix of unspoken emotions. The air grew thick, and my gaze drifted to her lips, soft and invitingly close. A surge of desire shot through me, hot and unexpected. Perhaps, in this moment of shared vulnerability, the dam holding back my emotions might finally break.

Just as I leaned forward, the sound of a knock shattered the fragile intimacy. Both of us froze, the spell broken. I frowned and looked toward the door I couldn’t tell who it was in my antechamber with her barrier up. She narrowed her eyes.

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“Who is it?” I asked. “Can you tell?”

I was too weak to use my connection to the palace. I felt more vulnerable than usual, knowing that they were in the antechamber, and I couldn’t tell. All I could do was trust Morgan. She nodded and turned back. Another knock came then, and the doorknob jiggled.

“Let’s get you bandaged first.”

“Who is it?” I asked.

She met my gaze. “Keiji.”

I groaned. What the hell did he want? My desire that had flared so brightly moments ago was replaced by a wave of irritation. Damn Keiji and his impeccable timing. But before I could respond further, the knocking resumed, more insistent this time.

I couldn’t hear his voice. I gritted my teeth and looked at Morgan. Her gaze darted from side to side. There was no ignoring him for long, and I damn sure didn’t want him alone in the rest of the room. With a sigh, I pushed myself away from Morgan, the warmth of her touch lingering on my skin like a phantom sensation.

She stopped me. “You expect anyone to believe a comatose patient got injured like this

Shit, she was right.