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 with the 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.”
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 search for 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 only a 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 a yes . 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 means no , 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.
“How long have you been in love?” I ask Kie. “Does Mason know?”
Mason’s gaze darts toward me. I hold eye contact, not feeling intimidated by him when his guts were spilling out of his body just moments ago. There’s nothing he can do to me right now.
Kie finishes his last sutures before pouring disinfectant onto a small cloth. It burned like a motherfucker when Mason put it on my knees, and I take sick satisfaction in watching Mason’s face screw up when Kie begins to spread it over his torn-up abdomen.
“Why does the human think you’re in love with me?” he grits out through clenched teeth.
Kie’s shoulders lift in a shrug. “I don’t know. She doesn’t know anything about us.”
I faintly remember screaming a version of that exact sentence to my mother when she tried telling me that my first boyfriend wasn’t a good guy. I was sixteen and in love, and I wasn’t open to hearing any suggestions he was anything other than perfect.
Two weeks later, I discovered he was hooking up with every girl who gave him ten seconds of attention, so maybe my mom had been onto something.
It happened when Lill was still strong, and my lips curl as I recall the way she broke his nose in the middle of algebra class the following week. She was promptly suspended, but she still insists it was well worth it.
I miss how vicious Lill was before she got sick. I haven’t seen that side of her in years.
“She asked me about delysum,” Kie tells Mason.
My heart lurches at the exact moment Mason’s accusatory gaze meets mine. He doesn’t look pleased—not that he ever does. Still, I wasn’t expecting the level of anger and suspicion in his gaze. I fucked up letting that word slip from my lips.