Page 49 of The Cursed Kingdom

Heaven forbid they form a mate bond with a woman they deem below them. I bet they’re saving their touch for the fancy noble ladies of their court. It’s very pretentious. Verythem.

When Mason begins to remove his pants, I turn away.

I listen closely to the sound of rustling clothing, though, wanting to stay alert. From the corner of my eye, Mason’s shadow bends forward as he pushes his pants and underwear down his legs, removing the last of his clothing.

I know what’s coming next, and I resist the urge to squeeze my eyes shut as his form begins to shift. Mason places his hands on his knees, a low groan slipping from his throat as his back contorts and he transforms into a giant wolf-like animal.

I can’t hear anything over the pounding of my own heart. Is he doing this as a threat? To remind me not to run? It’s unnecessary. I know better than to try to escape so soon.

The animal lets out a low, gravely sound, and I shiver. I hate that noise, and I’m beginning to understand why the faeries dislike the shifters. They don’t seem particularly friendly, and they’re fucking terrifying.

Mason stalks the perimeter of the small area he and Kie decided to make camp. My hands shake as he nears me, and sweat drips down my inner arms as he takes it upon himself to circle me. I force myself to continue staring at the sky, praying he can’t sense my fear.

Kie said Mason has a strong predator instinct, and I have no interest in making myself more prey than I already am.

Mason does another lap of me before finally wandering away, returning to Kie. The faerie prince is still on hissleeping pad, his gloved hands folded behind his head and his legs stretched outward and crossed at the ankles. He looks comfortable. It must be nice.

His eyes are shut, but I doubt he’s sleeping. The movement of his chest is too uneven and quick. Is he thinking about me? About how he’s going to gift me to Zaha? About what her brothers will do if she decides she doesn’t want me? About Mason’s decision to murder me in ahumaneway?

I can’t fathom what it means to be given to a god. Lill’s never spoken about them, and the faeries I’ve spent the past few days eavesdropping on rarely speak of them. When they do, it’s with fervor and mild fear. What scares the faeries scares me.

Mason makes a low, grumbling noise, and Kie sits up just as Mason turns and vanishes into the forest. Where’s he going?

“There are deer nearby,” Kie says, answering my unspoken question. “Mason’s going to hunt one.”

My stomach rumbles at the mere thought of food. I’ve been dealing with hunger pains for a while, but they’ve ramped up today. It’s hard to ignore them, but I’d say I’ve been doing a pretty good job of it.

Kie clears a spot between us, removing leaves and small debris before collecting firewood. Since he has nothing to chop wood with, he sticks to breaking thin branches off trees and collecting fallen twigs.

I remain where I am, watching him work. I have no interest in helping, and thankfully, he doesn’t ask.

Still, he works with ease, building a smell pile of wood before lighting a fire with an object I’ve never seen before. He holds a slim, black disc over the pile, and after a couple of seconds, sparks begin to drop from the bottom of the disk.

It doesn’t take long for the sparks to catch and a fire to emerge, but it’s small. I suppose they don’t want to risk the shifters seeing it, despite the sun being out.

We fall into an uncomfortable silence as we wait for Mason to return with the deer he’s convinced he will hunt down. Will they share? There will be more meat than Kie and Mason can realistically eat, but I’m trying not to get my hopes up. I could see them taking their fill and refusing me the leftovers.

My stomach rumbles, the noise audible even over the low sound of the crackling fire.

I wince. The last thing I want is Mason or Kie sensing how desperate I am for food. I don’t want them using it against me.

An excruciatingly long time passes before somebody approaches on our right, and I turn just as Mason emerges from the trees with a carcass held between his teeth. The animal looks identical to an Earth deer, but it’s a miniature version.

It’s still large enough to feed all three of us, though.

Mason drags the carcass toward the fire before stepping back and shaking out his fur. His muzzle is covered in blood, and I shiver before scanning the deer.

Its throat is ripped open, clearly done by Mason. I hope the poor animal didn’t suffer, and I stare into its wide, unblinking eyes as Kie gets to work cutting it up, slicing off large chunks of meat and throwing them over the flames.

Mason remains nearby, looking almost nervous as his eyes dart around the woods surrounding us. The second Kie is finished, Mason begins dragging the carcass away.

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. What’s he doing? There’s still so much good meat on that.

My chest aches, and I feel the overwhelming urge to cry as Mason leaves with the deer. Watching him take my food away, take away the one thing that’s brought me any semblance of joy since I had the misfortune of meeting him, is beyond devastating.

It feels like somebody’s driving a hot blade into my throat.

“The shifters will be able to smell it,” Kie explains. “Mason’s going to drag the carcass around, leading any shifters who stumble into the area away from us.”

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