Chapter Thirty-Three
ABBY
HOW LONG IS Mason planning to lie on me and purr?
I stare at the ground, undecided if I should get up and try to push him away or lie here and accept my inevitable death. I’m leaning toward the latter. I’m cold, wet, and miserable, and death isn’t feeling like the worst thing in the world anymore.
“I think she’s warm enough, Mace,” Kie says.
He’s sitting by my feet. I often feel him brush against me as he shifts, but he’s been quiet. He’ll occasionally mumble something to Mason, but I haven’t been paying attention.
I don’t care much for what he has to say. This was my second failed attempt to escape, and I know I won’t get another.
Even if I find a good opening, I’m too weak and tired to try. I haven’t been getting enough food, water, or sleep, and the energy and calories my body burned trying to keep me warm this evening have pushed me over the edge.
I’m exhausted, both mentally and physically, and I’m tired of trying. I give up.
Let them kill me or give me away to Zaha—I don’t care.
Kie sighs. “Mace…”
He told Mason to get off me about ten minutes ago, but Mason ignored him then and seems intent to do the same now. He probably thinks his purring is threatening and scary, but I think it makes him sound like a housecat. An oversized, barely trained housecat.
I tap my fingers against the ground, counting the seconds.
I must admit that Mason is warm, and the tarp above us is a godsend. The raindrops are loud as they hit it, drowning out my thoughts. Not that I have many. I’m doing my best not to think, and so far, I’m doing a pretty stellar job.
Mason kicks up his purring and begins wiggling on top of me a moment later. When he and Kie appeared, the last thing I expected him to do was lie on me, but it’s been hours and he’s showing no signs of stopping.
I don’t understand the purpose.
It’s probably a weird shifter trait. Maybe they like to cover their meals with their scent before they eat them. Or perhaps he’s just doing this to fuck with me. That feels like something Mason would do.
A steady stream of rainwater pours off the corner of the tarp. It lands only a few inches from my head, creating a dirty puddle. I’m already covered in mud—there’s no way I’m not—so I don’t mind it.
Sighing, I stick my pointer finger under the stream of runoff.
The rain is finally letting up. I can tell by the sound, but I can’t see it. It’s pitch black out, and my flashlight is out of arm’s reach. My nut container is by my knees, also out of reach, but I hope it’s still collecting the rainwater.
I’m looking forward to drinking it, and I might cry if either Mason or Kie has knocked it over.
Several minutes pass before I press my gloved palms into the soft ground and try to sit up. My back presses against Mason’s stomach, but he doesn’t budge. I don’t understand why he’s spent the past several hours lying on me and purring, but it seems he’s not done.
I continue trying to push up against him, wanting him off me.
All he does is press down harder, slowly adding his body weight until I collapse beneath him.
Kie speaks up. “Leave her alone.”
Mason grumbles, his purr shifting into a deeper vibration that screams I’m having a fun time. Let me do what I want before I eat you. It’s not directed at me, but it still makes me uneasy. Everything about Mason makes me uneasy.
I wish he’d have died when those shifters attacked. It seemed like he was damn close to doing so, and I’m frustrated he couldn’t see it to completion. Useless men. They can’t even die correctly.
“Mason!”
I know it’s serious when Kie uses Mason’s full first name.
The purring stops, and Mason finally fucking climbs off me. He moves slowly, taking his sweet time, and I sit up the second I can. Having him on me was momentarily pleasant, his body heat bringing immense relief to my sore, cold muscles, but I’m over it.
My limbs had locked up when Mason and Kie arrived, and I could barely move. Every breath hurt, and my hands and feet felt like they were on fire. I’d already accepted my death when Mason’s shadow appeared, and I especially thought it was coming when he crawled over the top of me a second later.
I’m shocked I’m alive right now.
Mason, still in his animal form, takes a seat on my right, trapping me between him and Kie. I hate his animal form, but I’m not necessarily eager for him to return to his human-looking one and demand I give him his pants back.
They’re helping to keep the lower half of my body warm.
Mason’s head brushes against the tarp, pushing the accumulated water off the top. It hits the ground with a heavy thump , and Kie groans as a decent amount of it lands on his legs.
“For fuck’s sake.” He huffs.
His legs, from the mid-thigh down, are sticking out from underneath the tarp. It looks like it’s been that way for a while. His pants are soaked through, clinging to his muscular legs like a second skin.
The water landing on him hardly made a difference.
Mason makes an odd, choking sound, which might be a laugh. I’ve never heard an animal make a noise like that before, and it sounds unnatural. I’d be happy never to hear it again.
At least somebody’s finding humor in this shitty situation, though.
I press my back against the tree and bring my knees against my chest. My knives are gone, and I don’t waste time looking for them. There’s no point.
My peanut container is where I left it, thankfully still upright. I can’t see how much water it’s collected, and I do my best to contain my excitement as I pick it up and realize it’s more than halfway full. It’s not enough to sustain me, but I’ll take it.
Beggars can’t be choosers.
Two pairs of eyes watch as I bring the container to my mouth and down the contents. The water is objectively stale and musty, but I love it. I’ll never take easily accessible water for granted again.
My hands shake, and I choke slightly as I gulp, but I don’t care. I’m not trying to impress either of these men, and it doesn’t bother me if they think my frantic drinking is unladylike.
I empty my container in seconds, and with a heavy sigh, I set it back down to continue collecting water. I doubt I'll get much with the rain beginning to let up, but a girl can hope. There are so few things left to remain optimistic about.
Mason and Kie are openly staring at me, neither bothering to pretend they aren’t. I get why they want to keep an eye on me, but this is a bit excessive. It’s not like I’ll get up and run with both so close to me.
We’re huddled under a tarp in the middle of the night, and we all know I wouldn’t get far if I tried. And I’ve tried.
“You found me,” I eventually say, breaking the silence.
Kie nods, his head bobbing. “We did.”
Mason grumbles, and Kie makes an annoyed clicking sound with his mouth. I’m mildly impressed with their ability to communicate without words, and I bet they were full of laughs when tracking me through the forest. They probably had a great time mocking my attempt to escape.
I honestly thought I’d succeeded for a minute there, but that was foolish thinking.
“How far are we from the portal?” I ask.
“We’re making good time. We should be there tomorrow afternoon, maybe in the evening if you’re—” Kie clears his throat before continuing. “If we’re slow.”
Tomorrow? I thought it would take longer than that. I was hoping, at least.
I lick my dried, cracked lips. “I suppose there’s no changing your mind about giving me to Zaha.”
I already know the answer, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.
I should lie and tell them I have young children back home. Most people, at least ones with any semblance of a heart, would feel bad separating children from their parents. I could tell them I have a three-year-old and an infant, the two arguably cutest ages.
“I—” I begin to say just that, but I freeze and stop at the last minute.
It’s probably not a good idea to draw attention to my life back in the human realm. I don’t want either of these men looking into it. I don’t want them to find Lill.
“What?” Kie asks, noticing my slip-up.
Mason begins moving, his body contorting into uncomfortable positions as he returns to his human-like form. The sounds his body makes as it transforms are disgusting, and I swallow back bile as it happens right beside me.
He could’ve easily left the comfort of the tarp to do this, and I subtly inch closer to Kie as Mason transforms from an animal to a naked man. I was already caught peeking at him once, and I make a pointed effort to stare straight ahead this time.
Kie reaches into his bag and pulls out Mason’s clothing, and I wordlessly tug his pants down my legs. They’re too large for me, and I shove them off in record time.
Mason puts on the black gloves Kie tosses at him first, and I notice how he moves away from me the second my bare legs are exposed. He truly is terrified of touching me.
I should find a way to use that to my benefit—see if I can get him to squeal and run away from me like young boys do when they’re going through a girls have cooties phase. I bet he would.
It would be so fucking satisfying to be Mason’s mate.
These people put a lot of value into their bonds, and I’d love to see the horror spread across his face as he realizes the woman he’s been treating like livestock is actually the person he’s destined to spend the rest of his life with.
I bet Kie would be upset, too. Something is going on between him and Mason, and I can’t lie and say I wouldn’t find joy in causing him some pain.
In my fantasy world, Mason would find out the moment he handed me over to Zaha. He’d go from excitement to finally being rid of me to desperation to save me, and I hope he’d live the rest of his days with regret.
Everybody talks about how intense the mate bond is, and I hope to consume his every thought until the day he dies. I don’t care what happens to me as long as Mason’s miserable.
I’m petty, and I want him to suffer.
The chances of being his mate are slim to none, but I think I’ll touch him, anyway. The second he and Kie offer me to Zaha, I’m going to rip off my gloves and touch his face. I’m going to run my greasy, dirty palms all over his perfect skin.
Maybe I’ll even shove a finger into his mouth. He’ll gag on it—just as he deserves.
If it works, if I’m somehow his mate, it’ll be the best revenge ever. If not, well, it’ll be too late to kill me, and at least I’ll have the memory of pissing him off to keep me going.