Page 69 of The Cursed Kingdom

I smack my tongue against the roof of my mouth before returning to him and Mason. This is a momentary setback, but I’m not giving up. I can’t.

Kie continues stitching up Mason’s abdomen, and I sit on the ground a few steps away. I might as well take this time to relax.

A ray of sunlight hits my face, and I tilt my head back with a quiet sigh. If I look closely enough, I can still find very occasional tiny specks of magic swirling around the air, but I have to searchfor them. It’s nothing to how it is outside the forest, but I don’t mind it.

I grew up in a world without magic, and being surrounded by it is distracting.

I’m sure Kie doesn’t share that opinion. He probably finds the air here to be lacking, and I hope he’s feeling the effects of withdrawal. I hope he’s weak and lethargic. I hope his muscles hurt and his head pounds.

My backpack crunches as I drop it on the ground between my legs, and I don’t hesitate to rip open the food I stole from Kie. Besides the meal I shared with Samuel and the one deer Mason hunted down, all I’ve had to eat are my nuts and jerky. It was all right at first—not the most appetizing but filling and better than nothing—but now I cringe at the mere sight of my packed food. I’d kill for some variety, specifically something sweet.

I’d fuck the first person who offered me a chocolate bar right now.

The first bite of Kie’s food has me fighting back a moan. It’s so good, maybe honey flavored, and I eagerly begin shoving as much as possible into my mouth. Fuck Kie and Mason. They can starve, for all I care.

“Shit,” Kie mumbles to himself.

His hands are covered in blood, and he wipes his palms on the ground before beginning another suture. He’s putting a surprising amount of care into stitching up Mason. It’s mostly clinical, his every touch made with purpose, but there’s something more to it. It’s almost intimate.

“Are you two together?” I ask.

I’ve been operating off the assumption that they’re friends, but maybe not.

Kie’s back straightens as I ask my question, and his hands momentarily pause their rhythmic movements. It lasts for onlya brief second before he resumes stitching, acting as if the pause never occurred.

“No,” he says.

There’s a finality in his tone that tells me I shouldn’t push, but I ignore it. It seems like Mason is on the verge of death, and maybe if I distract Kie enough, he won’t be able to save the shifter.

“Do you want to be?” I pry.

Kie doesn’t immediately answer, so I’m going to take that as ayes. I didn’t understand why he was bringing Mason to the portal with him, nor did any faeries I eavesdropped on, but this explains it.

He brought Mason with him because he’s in love.

The realization makes my heart tug the tiniest little bit, and I turn away to give Kie a few private moments with Mason. I’m pretty sure the shifter is going to die, and I’d hate to have my last moments with my loved one watched.

Kie doesn’t deserve privacy, but I have a soft heart.

“Mace!” Kie snaps. “Stop flinching.”

I glance at Mason, mildly disappointed to see he’s awake again. Unlike last time, he seems alert to what’s happening, which isn’t good. That probably means he isn’t going to die.

Unless this is his last moment of clarity before he passes.

Mason frowns, peering at his side. “You’re doing it wrong.”

His lips curl downward as he watches Kie stitch him up. The sutures look pretty good to me, but I admittedly don’t know what they’re supposed to look like.

Kie snorts. “I’d do it right if you stopped flinching.”

Mason raises a brow. He’s not flinching, not even as the needle pierces his torn skin and the thread pulls it together. I’d be screaming in agony.

“Did you disinfect it?” Mason asks.

Kie pauses, his hands growing still before he clears his throat and resumes his stitching. I’m assuming the lack of answer meansno, and Mason seems to come to the same conclusion as he squeezes his eyes shut and sucks in a slow, calming breath.

He doesn’t look much calmer when he opens his eyes a second later.

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