Page 68 of The Cursed Kingdom

“Fuck,” Kie says, rushing forward.

Mason collapses in a sad heap of blood and limbs, and Kie drops to his knees beside him. I remain where I am, silently watching as Kie rips open his backpack and dumps out all the medical supplies.

He’s distracted, and Mason is unconscious.

This is my opportunity.

Chapter Twenty-Six

ABBY

KIE IMMEDIATELY BEGINS patching up Mason. He rips off his gloves before getting to work, seemingly having no problem touching the other man’s bare skin.

I lean against the closest tree, taking a second to rest and catch my breath. It’s been a long night, and I’m beyond exhausted. I can’t remember the last time I had a good night’s rest—it was well before I came here—and my body is paying the price.

If I make it home, I’ll never take the comfort of a warm, soft bed for granted again.

Mason’s eyes crack open, and he lets out a quiet groan as he looks around. It doesn’t seem like he’s taking in anything, and after a moment, his eyes slip shut once more. Those aren’t the actions of a man in good shape.

I rock back on my heels before stepping closer to the two. Mason’s out cold, a pool of blood forming below him. I thought my knees were bad, but this is another level. If Kie and Mason were concerned with the scent of my blood, I can only imagine the threat we’re currently facing.

How did Mason go so long without seeking medical help? He must’ve waited until the last minute to return to us, and I assume he wasn’t this injured when he initially split. Mason was gone for hours, and there’s a good chance he ran into other shifters.

Kie grabs sutures and a needle, and I casually kneel on his right.

He’s not paying me any attention, but my heart is still pounding as I grab the bag Kie didn’t dump and drag it toward me. I don’t know what to do if he catches me, but I try not to think about it as I unzip the bag.

The sleeping pad and tarp-like cover are shoved inside, the two objects surprisingly small when rolled up. I wipe my sweaty palms on my sweatshirt, resisting the urge to peek at Kie.

I spot the package of the dried-out meat he and Mason ate yesterday. It’s probably dense and high in calories, made specifically for the princes to eat during their trip. I don’t hesitate to steal it.

There’s a hunting knife strapped to the bag's interior and several of the small soap bars they used on me earlier, and at the very bottom of the bag are a few random items I don’t recognize. They’re probably native to the faerie realm but all are useless to me right now.

I check every pocket in the bag, keeping my movements slow so I don’t draw any attention to myself.

Kie continues to work on Mason, expertly stitching shut the giant, gaping wound on his abdomen. He hasn’t touched the punctures on Mason’s left bicep, but I figure that’s next. The side wound is the more pressing of the two.

I grab the hunting knife before setting the bag on the ground.

My knees shake as I push myself back to my feet, and I struggle to breathe evenly as I begin to pace behind Kie. He has excellent hearing, and I want him to grow familiar withthe sound of me walking around before I start putting distance between us. Hopefully, my noises will fade to the back of his mind and he won’t even notice when I leave.

I pace for a few minutes, gradually walking farther away each time, before taking the risk and truly beginning to leave. I’m so nervous, I could vomit, and I clench my hands into tight fists as I struggle to keep a steady pace. I want to run as fast and as far away as I possibly can, but I need to remain calm.

I make sure not to travel in the direction we were walking, have already walked, or the one Mason came from. This will be an exhausting day, but I’ll remain strong and push through. I have no other options.

“Stop.”

I freeze as Kie’s voice rings out, but I otherwise don’t react. Maybe he’s talking to Mason.

“Turn around.”

Fuck.

Kie sounds pissed, so he’s probably not talking to Mason. My heart sinks, my disappointment so thick, I can taste it in the back of my throat. It’s bitter, next to impossible to swallow.

This was a perfect opportunity, probably one of the best I’ll ever get. There’s no way to escape when both Kie and Mason are alert, and they even sleep in shifts.

“Abby.” Kie’s voice is laced with threat. “Don’t make me come get you.”

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