Page 61 of The Cursed Kingdom

Kie meets my gaze over the human’s head, and I shrug before setting my supplies on the ground and digging through hers to grab the healing ointment I found yesterday.

Our kind rarely gets infections, so I didn’t think to pack any medicine for it, but the ointment she had stashed away claims to prevent them. It’s the only one of her items that looks even mildly useful.

“If you stop screaming,” Kie starts, “I’ll let you go.”

Almost immediately, the screaming stops.

I don’t trust the human to remain silent, but to my surprise, when Kie releases her and steps back, she doesn’t scream. She still reeks of fear, but she doesn’t try to run away, either, as she stands between us with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

She must be freezing.

Even I can feel the chill of the water on my skin, which is only amplified by the fact that my clothing is soaking wet. It’ll take hours to dry, but I knew removing my clothing would’ve only made bathing the human harder.

It would also leave my bare skin open to touch, and given the sheer amount of flailing she was doing, the risk was high.

“I want my clothes,” the human says.

Her voice cracks, and her entire body is wracked with violent shivers as she glances between Kie and me. I didn’t immediately understand why she was fighting so violently, but when I accidentally pulled down her underwear and heard her primal scream, I realized it was because she thought we were going to rape her.

I’m annoyed she believes I’d have any interest in that.

I’m the firstborn son of Alpha Theon. I’m a shifter prince. I have enough women throwing themselves at me, and I have no desire for the ones who don’t.

“Sit,” Kie orders, pointing to the large rock I was sitting on earlier. “We need to treat your wounds. Then you can redress.”

The human’s lips have turned blue. Why? I frown. Is this a side effect of her infection? I scrubbed her wounds well, removing any debris or germs growing there. My actions toreopen the budding scabs, but I figure it’s best to start her healing from the beginning. I know how to deal with open wounds, but infections are foreign.

“I can do it myself,” the human says, eyeing the supplies in my hands.

Kie shakes his head. “Let Mason do it. You don’t know how to use our supplies, and we need to get moving before the shifters catch our scent.”

If they haven’t already. A decent amount of blood is pouring out of the human’s knees, and the metallic scent is seeping into the air surrounding us. If any shifters are nearby, especially in their animal form, they’ll soon be on the way.

The human’s throat bobs at the mention of the other shifters. She’s scared of us, which is for the best. I don’t know that my kind would go out of their way to kill a random human, not like the trolls would, but now that she’s traveling with us, they most definitely would.

“Make her sit,” I tell Kie.

The human’s shivering has grown worse, and I’m beginning to worry she’s going to die. I don’t know much about humans, but I do know they’re fragile. Her body doesn’t seem to handle anything well, and it’s failing her at every turn.

It’s a miracle she’s made it to adulthood.

The human buries her nails into her bicep, and I can’t tell if the wetness on her cheeks is water or tears. I assume it’s a mixture of both.

Kie steps toward her, the action finally urging her to move. She stumbles over her feet in an attempt to get away from him, her movements clunky. She’s always floundering around, and I wonder if it’s a human or personal trait.

She sits on the rock, and her knees clank against one another as she slams her thighs together.

I roll my eyes, still annoyed she fears us raping her. She’s an attractive woman, but it’s gone to her head.

I crouch before her and set my supplies on the ground so I can pull my wet sleeves back down. I’ve never let another person touch my bare skin, and I won’t be breaking that tradition today.

Although after the way we’ve treated this woman, I know she’s not our mate. It’s said that shifters know who their mate is even before touch, that we know the moment we lay eyes on our person. My father once told me he knew who my mother was to him the second he first saw her, and I know I’ll feel the same way for my mate.

Even if I can never touch her and ignite the bond, I’ll know who she is.

The human glares down at me, and I let out a quiet sigh as she glances into the forest behind me. I hope she’s not thinking about running again. She won’t like the consequences.

I grab her calf. She lets out a dramatic gasp as my gloved hand curls around the limb, but she’s smart and doesn’t scream.

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