Page 66 of The Cursed Kingdom

“Abby?”

I sag.

“Climb down,” Kie orders, his voice low. “We need to get moving before more shifters show up.”

More?That haunting thought gets me moving, and I pray I don’t lose my grip as I begin scrambling down. If I have to choose between Kie and the other shifters, I’ll choose Kie. He doesn’t intend to tear and rip me apart into a million little pieces. He only intends to gift me to Zaha—not that that’s much of an improvement.

“Hurry up,” Kie says after a few seconds. He sounds frustrated.

“I’m going as fast as I can.”

I’m not trying to fall.

I wince, scraping my forearm against the bark of the branch I’m climbing down. It pales in comparison to my other injuries, and I take only a brief second to recover before continuing my descent.

My gloved hands touch something wet as I reach the bottom branch, something wet that most definitely wasn’t there on my way up. I bet it’s blood, and I swallow past the lump in my throat as I ignore it and continue moving.

Kie grabs my waist, helping soften the transition between the last branch and the ground.

I’m so fucking glad it’s dark out.

There are several large, animal-shaped lumps on the ground.Unmoving lumps. Being surrounded by so many dead bodies would have very likely thrown me into a panicked spiral several days ago, but now I feel only mild disgust.

I’m keeping it together. Only a few tears have been shed, but I think most people would cry when they’re being held down and stripped. I was so sure Kie and Mason were going to rape me, and I’m still not entirely convinced it’s not what they had in mind.

For all I know, the shifters’ arrival is the only thing that stopped them.

The back of my neck is covered in a cold sweat, and I shove my hair out of my face as I look for Mason. The woods surrounding Kie and me are suspiciously still, empty even of the tiny critters and bugs that typically linger around.

It’s unnerving.

“Where is he?” I ask. I hope the answer isdead. “Your shifter?”

Kie takes his and Mason’s bags from me, throwing one over his shoulder before ripping open the other. The two areidentical, so I’m not sure whose is whose—not that it matters. Kie carries them both most of the time, anyway.

“Mason’shurt,” Kie explains, over-enunciating Mason’s full first name. I press my lips together, and Kie clears his throat before continuing. “He’s left to spread his scent and throw other shifters off our trail. He’ll catch up with us later.”

I nod, trying to contain my excitement.

He’s hurt, and he’s alone. There’s a good chance he’ll stumble upon some more shifters, and I hope that, with him being injured, he won’t be as successful defending himself. Sneaking away from Kie will be challenging, but it’ll be monumentally easier if Mason is murdered.

The odds of successfully navigating out of this forest by myself are low, but the odds of becoming a slave to Zaha should I remain with Kie are higher. I’ll take the opportunity of freedom over slavery any day.

Kie steps forward, navigating around one of the large bodies on the ground.

I remain where I am.

“I can’t see,” I say.

It’s gotten too dark, and the moonlight isn’t providing enough illumination. If I try to walk, I’ll trip over absolutely everything in my path.

Kie’s shadow stops moving, and I press my lips together before reaching for my flashlight.

“No,” he says. “It’ll draw too much attention.”

Will it, though? The shifters were able to find us from scent alone, and I assume if they’re close enough to see my flashlight, they’re close enough to smell us.

“Well, then I can’t walk,” I argue. “And you’re not carrying me.”

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