Page 111 of Lord of the Lone Wolf
She hesitated, then added, “Perhaps your royal consort might have better luck. With the blood of the Powers in his veins, he possesses a special magic that shifters do not. If anyone could heal this damage, it would be someone like him who could separate the Divine injury from the necromancy.”
Hope flickered in Kitsuki’s chest at the suggestion. Auslin’s unique heritage might indeed provide solutions where traditional healing failed. Perhaps they could still save Maseo.
“Thank you for your efforts,” Maseo said.
“Yes, thank you,” Kitsuki echoed, inclining his head in gratitude.
Lirienne bowed once more before taking her leave, the tent flap falling closed behind her with a soft rustle of fabric.
Kitsuki moved to sit beside Maseo on the edge of the bed. His dragon emerged as he resumed tending to cleaning the wounds. “We apologize for failing to keep you safe as we promised.”
Maseo shook his head, wincing at the movement. “Please don’t feel bad. If losing an eye and enduring some scars is the price to pay to be rid of my father in this realm, it was worth it. Even if I die, I have no regrets.”
The simple declaration, spoken with quiet conviction, stirred something profound in Kitsuki’s chest. His dragon rumbled in approval, recognizing the courage and strength that had always drawn them to Maseo.
Silence fell between them as Kitsuki’s dragon used a gentle touch of magic to remove Maseo’s slashed shirt, revealing the full extent of the wounds beneath. The slice across his ribs gaped, its edges blackened. Dark veins pulsed with each beat of his heart as the death magic continued its relentless advance through his body.
With methodical care, Kitsuki washed the one on his ribs. The half-shifter remained silent, though occasional sharp intakes of breath betrayed his pain.
“Turn, please,” Kitsuki instructed after finishing. “I need to tend to your back.”
Maseo complied, revealing a long slash running diagonally across his shoulder. He asked, “How do you feel?”
“Regretful that we were not strong enough to keep you safe,” Kitsuki’s dragon answered, his hands never pausing in their careful work.
Maseo hesitated, then clarified, “I meant about what my father did to you.”
The dragon king’s hands stilled. “It is one more indignity Nasume heaped upon us in our long lives.” He resumed his care with deliberate focus. “We are unaccustomed to being vulnerable, and we do not wish to feel that way again.” The admission cost him, but Maseo’s presence invited honesty in the wake of their shared experience of Nasume’s cruelty. “Thank you for saving us. Your courage today will be remembered.”
Maseo turned back to face Kitsuki, his movement careful but determined. His remaining eye met Kitsuki’s silver gaze with shy intensity. “I’d do anything for you,” he admitted, the simple declaration carrying weight far beyond its words.
Something shifted in the air between them, a tension both fragile and powerful. Kitsuki’s dragon reached out, stroking Maseo’s uninjured right cheek with the back of his knuckles. The touch lingered, drawing a soft intake of breath from the half-shifter.
“Then be happy,” Kitsuki’s dragon murmured. “We want that more than anything for you. And we will stop at nothing until you are safe.”
Their gazes held, a moment stretching into eternity. In Maseo’s remaining eye, Kitsuki saw a universe of unspoken feelings and tentative hope blooming despite the pain and loss of the day.
His dragon urged him forward, drawn by an instinct as old as time itself. The need to protect, to claim, to cherish what was theirs. There was no doubt in the dragon’s mind that Maseo was theirs, the same as Auslin.
Kitsuki reached out and drew Maseo into a careful embrace, mindful of his injuries. The half-shifter’s body felt smaller in his arms than he’d expected. The contrast between Maseo’s mortal frame and the indomitable spirit within struck Kitsuki with breathtaking clarity.
He buried his nose in the crook of Maseo’s neck. Beneath the metallic tang of blood, Maseo’s natural aroma of sun-warmed cedar, wild mountain herbs, and the subtle sweetness of berries called to Kitsuki’s dragon on a primal level. The scent differed from Auslin’s sunshine yet brought the same comfort.
“We thought we would lose you,” Kitsuki’s dragon confessed, his words muffled against Maseo’s skin. “When we saw you fall, when we saw your blood…”
The memory of Maseo collapsing, his face slashed open and his body riddled with necromantic wounds, made Kitsuki draw himcloser. He had hated the helplessness of watching through the green barrier, unable to protect him. Terror had clawed through Kitsuki’s chest when he thought Nasume would succeed in taking Maseo from them forever.
He tightened his embrace, one hand cradling the back of Maseo’s head while the other rested across his lower back, holding him with a reverence that bordered on worship. The contact of their bare skin ignited something profound in Kitsuki’s soul, a recognition so fundamental it shook the very foundations of his being.
This is right, his dragon whispered within him.He belongs with us.
Kitsuki no longer had the strength or will to argue against his dragon. Not when holding Maseo in his arms brought him the first peace he had experienced since leaving Auslin at the castle in Tiora.
Maseo returned the embrace, his hands trembling as they settled between Kitsuki’s shoulder blades. He spread his fingers as if to memorize the feel of the king’s bare skin beneath his palm. The touch was gentle and reverent, carrying none of the presumption or demand that had characterized Nasume’s violations.
“I’m here,” Maseo whispered, his breath warm against Kitsuki’s neck. “I survived.”
The simple statement unleashed a flood of emotion that threatened to drown Kitsuki. His dragon surged forward with fierce joy, possessive relief, and a certainty that he could no longer deny.
