Page 67 of The Cursed Kingdom

I add the second part as an afterthought, scared that it’ll be Kie’s first suggestion. Imight’vebeen open to it before he tookit upon himself to hold me down while his friend removed my clothing, but now I won’t consider it.

The thought of his hands on me makes me want to scratch off my skin, and even if Kie and Mason didn’t take advantage, the already limited amount of trust I had in them is gone. They’ve proven they have no problem forcing me, and I’d be dumb not to be wary of where their comfort with force ends.

Kie makes his way toward me.

“Grab my waist,” he says, giving me his back.

What?I stare at his form, debating what to do. I doubt I can convince him to let me use my flashlight, and I’m scared he’ll do something dramatic, like break it or take it away, if I try to use it, anyway.

I realistically can’t stop him from doing either.

This is a better solution than him knocking me out and carrying me, though, which he and Mason have already done once before. They may not care about my brain health, but I sure do.

Especially if I want to maintain my hope of escaping and returning to the human realm. I need to stay sharp if I intend to find another job, and I’ll be damned if I let my overpriced degree go to waste.

I didn’t spend hours upon hours drinking cheap, sludge-textured black coffee in the musty school library for nothing. Plus, if I don’t manage to get delysum and save Lill, I’ll need a steady income to support the copious amount of alcohol I’ll be drinking in my grief.

“Come on,” Kie urges.

I suck my cheeks into my mouth and grab his waist, hating how he has me voluntarily touching him. I wouldn’t if I could think of any alternatives.

Kie’s shirt is still damp, and even through the fabric of my gloves, I can feel how muscular his abdomen is. If hewere skinnier, I’d try digging my fingers between his ribs and inflicting pain, but I doubt it would do much to him.

He probably wouldn’t even notice.

Kie begins walking, leading the way. He moves slowly as we navigate over the dead shifters, and I count. We step over three, but I’m sure several more are scattered about.

How did Kie and Mason manage to kill so many shifters? Kie may be muscular, but I doubt he’s as strong as they are. They’re easily twice his size in their animal forms, and all it takes is one good chomp to break his neck or tear off a limb.

Maybe that’ll happen to Mason while he’s out and about.

I sure wouldn’t mind him becoming one of the motionless lumps on the ground. In fact, I’d say I highly encourage it.

Kie and I continue forward, speeding up once we pass the bodies. He digs around in his backpack, rummaging through it before pulling out some of the supplies Mason used on my knees earlier.

I didn’t realize he was injured, and I wish I could see how bad it is. That must be why he didn’t insist on carrying me. He probably can’t.

We walk for almost an hour without any sign of Mason, and my excitement grows with every passing minute. I consider asking Kie about it, but I don’t want to initiate a conversation. He hasn’t said anything to me, excluding the occasional warning to watch my step.

We walk, continuing even as the sun begins to rise. My adrenaline quickly wears off, and I hate how I find myself leaning against Kie’s back, using him for stability. I’m exhausted, and my joints are stiff.

Despite that, though, I release his waist the second the sun has risen enough that I can make out what’s in front of me. Kie hurries ahead a few steps as I let go, acting as if he couldn’t be more relieved to have my hands off him.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

If anybody should be disgusted by our touching, it’s me.

Kie breathes, the sudden noise drawing my attention. “Mason…” His shoulders drop in visible relief, and I frown as he turns to the left and a giant, familiar shifter appears.

Mason? I thought he was dead. It’s been hours. I cross my arms over my chest as the giant shifter approaches, his green eyes flickering over me and Kie.

He’s favoring his left side with a noticeable limp, and his fur is wet. It looks like he jumped into a lake before returning to us, maybe to remove his smell. If the whole point of him running around was to spread his injured scent, it’s not a very good idea to then lead it directly to us.

Mason makes his way over, and once he’s only a few steps away from Kie, his muscles quiver and his body twitches until his animal form is replaced with a very naked man. In this state, I can see just how badly he’s hurt.

Blood pours out of a deep wound on the right side of his abdomen, and a decent chunk of muscle is torn out of his left bicep. It’s the wound on his abdomen that holds my attention, though. It’s deep, and I’m pretty sure the intestines threatening to fall out aren’t supposed to be there.

I cringe, uneasy at the sight of another person’s internal bits.

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