Chapter Twenty-Seven
ABBY
MASON TRIES TO sit up, but Kie smoothly shoves him back to the ground.
It’s an aggressive action, one that seems to hurt Mason as he flattens against the ground with a grimace. I bite the inside of my cheek, holding back a smile. Mason may be injured, but I’m sure his memory is intact. I doubt he’ll take kindly to me laughing at his pain, nor do I think he’d forget it.
“Don’t move,” Kie orders.
He’s finished stitching up Mason’s side, the once-gaping hole now closed and held together with tiny, black knots. It still looks gruesome, but at least Mason’s insides are no longer under threat of falling out.
“What, exactly, did the human ask?” Mason asks, still staring at me.
Kie disinfects the remainder of Mason’s wound before fixing one of the sutures. I lost count of how many he’s done, but it’s a lot. Mason’s abs flex every time Kie shoves the needle through the skin, but he otherwise remains still.
It doesn’t seem like this is the first time he’s been patched up, but I don’t spot any other scars on his body. Maybe shifters don’t scar. Either that or they’ve got some fantastic scar cream I’d kill to get my hands on.
I avoid letting my gaze travel below Mason’s hips, pointedly ignoring how openly exposed his lower half is. I hardly noticed he was naked when he first collapsed on the ground, his giant, bleeding wound and visible intestines the only thing I could focus on. His organs are safely tucked back inside him, though, and I’m uncomfortably aware that he’s nude.
He doesn’t seem shy about it, either.
“What did she ask?” Mason repeats.
He sounds annoyed that Kie didn’t answer him the first time, and he’s still staring at me. I try to stare back, but I almost immediately get too nervous and look away. I’m feeling a lot less confident that he’s going to die, and I don’t want to provoke him.
I doubt he’ll attack me right at this moment, but Mason seems like the type of person to hold a grudge.
“She asked if I’ve heard of it,” Kie says.
And I sure as fuck regret it, too.
The question was asked in a moment of panic, and I wished to swallow the words back up the moment they came out. I don’t think it’s fair to question me about something I blurted out when I was about eighty percent convinced I was going to die, but that’s my personal opinion.
Mason momentarily looks away as Kie grabs his arm and pulls it between them, but his gaze quickly shifts back to me. I intently watch what Kie’s doing, pretending to be interested in how he cleans and wraps the wound on the shifter’s bicep.
Anything to avoid meeting Mason’s frightening stare.
“Why are you asking about delysum, human?” Mason asks.
His voice is low, eerily similar to the one he used when he and Kie ambushed me in the woods. I think it’s meant to sound threatening, and it works. Goosebumps spread up my arms, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
I’m in danger.
A low rumble pours from Mason’s chest, the noise identical to the one that emerges from his animal form. The memory of his sharp teeth flashes through my mind, and I instinctively wince.
Nothing I say will satisfy him, and I’m better off remaining silent.
He and Kie kept me alive this long, and I doubt they’re willing to torture me for information. They won’t take the risk of other shifters smelling my blood or hearing my screams.
There are other things they can do to me, but I’m trying hard not to think about that. Even if they try to force me, I don’t think it would be enough to make me speak—to risk exposing Lill. She’s my sister in all but blood, and I don’t trust what they’d do to her if they found her.
Especially when she’s so weak.
A strong gust of wind could kill her.
Mason grunts, a hiss of pain slipping from his lips as he once again tries to sit up. Kie doesn’t push him down this time, instead helping him lean against the base of the closest tree.
“Figure out what she knows,” Mason orders Kie.
Kie shakes his head, shoving his items back into his bag. “Not right now. We don’t have time.” His gaze flashes to me, to his dried meat still sitting in my lap. With one quick movement, he snatches it from my hand and shoves it back into his bag. “We need to keep moving.”
He packs up his things quickly, his eyes continually darting around. The ground where Mason passed out is saturated with blood, much more than there should be. Mason should be dead. Still, his blood acts as a giant beacon, broadcasting to any nearby shifters exactly where we are.
I’m not particularly keen to find out what they’ll do if they find us. The first run-in was a clear enough indicator.
Mason is in no position to fight, and I’m still doubtful of Kie’s skills. I’d confidently bet on him in a fight against humans or faeries, but the shifters are fucking massive.
It’s like a child fighting an angry bear—hardly a competition.
“We need to know what she knows about delysum,” Mason argues.
I bite at my bottom lip, remaining quiet. Kie’s trying to shut down this conversation, and I hope he’ll continue doing so.
Mason shifts his focus toward me. “Speak, human!”
I open my mouth, but no sound emerges. I don’t know what to say.
Kie runs a hand through his hair before throwing his and Mason’s bags over his shoulders and rising. Mason pays him no attention until Kie drops a heap of damp clothing beside his leg.
“Get dressed,” Kie orders.
Mason sucks his cheeks into his mouth, looking thoroughly pissed. I wonder how often Kie commands him around like this. Judging by their interactions, I don’t think it’s too common. The two seem relatively evenly matched.
“Get dressed, Mace,” Kie repeats, his tone firm. “Do you need my help?”
That seems to be the wrong thing to ask, and I’m surprised steam doesn’t blow out of Mason’s ears as he glares up at Kie. Mason was the one who initially pushed us to be cautious about avoiding the shifters, but at the mention of delysum, all those concerns have fallen to the wayside.
Why is it so important to him? I don’t know much about the plant, other than that it keeps Lill alive and is used as a weapon by the shifters. Samuel spoke openly about it, so I don’t think its existence is a secret.
Mason glances between Kie and me, an angry snarl gracing his features, before reaching for his discarded clothing. They’re still damp from the river, which I take great satisfaction in. He and Kie deserve to be uncomfortable after what they did to me.
Mason grabs his black underwear before stopping and slamming them into the ground.
“Tell me what the fuck you know, woman,” he hisses. I jolt, shocked by the sudden hostility, as Mason continues. “Before I fucking rip—”
Kie shouts, cutting off Mason. “Get dressed!”
Mason snaps his mouth shut and turns toward Kie so quickly that I’m surprised he doesn’t give himself whiplash. His chest is heaving, and his muscles twitch like he’s refraining from shifting into his animal form. I wonder what’ll happen to his stitches if he does. They’ll probably rip open.
Without thinking, I drag my gaze down his torso. The wound is on full display, and it still looks like shit. I hope it fucking aches.
I’ve been making a pointed effort not to look any lower than his waist, not wanting to send the message that I’m interested. Still, it’s impossible to avoid. A trail of dark hair leads down his belly button, and I follow it. Do shifters have the same anatomy as human men?
This is inappropriate, I’m fully aware of that, and I force my face to remain neutral as I spare a quick glance. Yes, they do. Mason’s manhood is identical to that of a human’s, the color and shape similar to what I’ve seen before. It’s larger, even while soft, but I’m not surprised. Mason is enormous, and it only makes sense that his reproductive bits would match.
Mason and Kie continue bickering, the two lost in their own world.
“Let me know when you’re finished staring at my cock,” Mason snaps, drawing my attention. “I want answers.”
I snap my gaze up, my face warm. Mason isn’t even looking at me, his glare still directed toward Kie, but I know he was speaking to me. I couldn’t have been looking for more than a second or two, and I don’t know how he noticed if he wasn’t even facing my direction.
Still, I’m horrified he knows what I was doing.
“Why are you asking about delysum?” Mason repeats his earlier question, over-enunciating every word as he turns back to me. When I don’t immediately answer, he continues. “Is that why you were in the forest? Were you looking for it?”
That’s a question I will not be answering.
Kie huffs. “We can do this later.”
Mason licks his lips, still glaring at me. The questions he’s asking are heading in a dangerous direction, one I’m not prepared for.
I should’ve never asked Kie about delysum—just like I should’ve never snuck into the forest when I knew there was a possibility they’d also be there. I’m regretting all my decisions as of late, but in my defense, it’s not like the options I’m given to choose from have been ideal.
Mason grabs his clothes and tugs them on. His face is screwed up in pain, but he refuses Kie’s offer for help.
I remain where I am, trying not to draw attention. I hope to turn invisible.
Once Mason is dressed, entirely covered from head to toe, he attempts to stand. I can’t fathom how he’s sitting up right now, let alone standing. If I were in his position, I’d be lying flat on my back wishing for death.
Still, Mason fights his way to his feet in slow, cautious movements.
Kie offers a hand, but it’s quickly smacked away.
“I’m fine!”
Kie frowns. “You’re not.”
He reaches for Mason again, smoothly avoiding the halfhearted punch the shifter throws in his direction. I’m not surprised by Mason’s avoidance of help, and if I weren’t so afraid of death, I’d snicker.
Mason gets to his feet, but he doesn’t look stable. He sways slightly, and his skin grows pale. He lost a lot of blood, and I imagine his body’s having difficulty operating.
“Let me carry you,” Kie says.
Mason looks like he’s resisting the urge to bite the faerie’s head off. His eyes are narrowed, and, despite his injured state, he takes a threatening step forward. I’m beginning to wonder whom Mason will kill first: me or Kie.
“Mace…” Kie says, his voice low.
The pair exchange a long glance before Mason lets out a quiet sigh and dips his chin. Kie spins, giving Mason his back, and Mason stumbles forward a step before throwing both his arms around Kie’s neck.
It’s not precisely a carry, but I can tell by the way Mason’s leaning over Kie’s back that the faerie is supporting most of their weight.
I’d contemplate running away if it weren’t for Kie having just caught me attempting to do so, and I shrug my backpack on my shoulders before following the two into the woods. Another opportunity will come, and I’ll be ready when it does.