Chapter Thirty-Five
ABBY
KIE’S ANNOYING.
It's not the usual annoying I’ve come to associate with him, but the kind of annoying that makes me want to rip out my hair.
“Abby,” he says, nudging my shoulder. “Tell me about the human realm.”
I step to the side, voluntarily placing myself closer to Mason. It’s a decision I never thought I’d make, but I’m left with no choice.
“There’s no wrong answer,” Kie continues, pretending not to notice my desperation for him to shut up. “I’m interested in learning about it.”
It’s like he’s made it his personal mission to be as much of a bother as possible, and he’s doing an excellent job. I don’t want to tell him anything about me, and I don’t appreciate his sudden interest. I’m sad and angry, and I fully intend to remain that way.
Mason doesn’t seem particularly eager to change his temperament, either.
He’s been ignoring Kie just as aggressively as I have, but Kie gave up trying to get him to speak about an hour ago. I wish he would do the same to me.
Kie sighs. “Today is going to be dreadful with you two being so miserable.”
When is he going to realize he’s talking to himself? Or that what he’s saying is absolute bullshit? He may be looking forward to meeting with Zaha, but I don’t share the same excitement.
My fate isn’t as favorable as his, and it’s all his fault. I’m not excited to be given away as some fucking gift, and the remainder of this trip will be dreadful for me, no matter what.
Kie inches closer, and I resist the urge to groan as I step over a rock and pretend not to notice. I’m going to be brushing shoulders with Mason if I move any farther away, and every attempt I make to speed up or slow down is matched by the insufferable pair.
I think they’re doing it on purpose to frustrate me.
“Would you like me to tell you about mates?” Kie asks.
He’s correctly guessed that I don’t know much, or anything, about them. I think asking how long he and Mason have been together gave it away, which is why I’ve decided to stop speaking altogether. I don’t know enough about this world, and everything I say shows that.
My best bet is to remain silent.
“Are humans familiar with the idea of soulmates?” Kie asks.
I pretend I can’t hear him.
“Are they?”
I can practically feel the heat of his gaze on the side of my head, and I wish he’d look where he was walking instead of at me. My irritation grows, reaching a peak I didn’t realize was possible as the seconds tick on and Kie doesn’t let up.
Eventually, I give a curt nod, confirming humans are familiar with the term.
Kie’s lips split into a wide smile. This is the first time I’ve acknowledged him, and I can tell he’s feeling good about it.
“That’s good,” he says. “And you’re aware that faeries and shifters have them? We share bonds that are ignited by touch. That’s why we wear gloves.”
Samuel already told me this. I can’t put into words what I would give to have my first faerie friend here with me. I may not have known Samuel long, but I enjoyed our short time together. He was friendly, and I didn’t feel like ripping my hair out whenever he spoke.
“Mason and I share a mate, but not a bond,” Kie explains. “Our mate connects us, though. That’s why Mason can’t kill me, despite his many attempts. Forked bonds aren’t common, but they aren’t unheard of. I’m the first royal in recorded existence with one.”
That, I did not know. I have several follow-up questions, but I bite my tongue. Kie’s trying to bait me into speaking, and I won’t fall for it. My expression must show my interest, though, as Kie continues.
“Are you wondering if it’s rare for there to be a forked mate bond between a faerie and shifter?”
I am wondering that, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before I ask.
“It’s incredibly rare.” A beat of silence then. “Are you wondering why Mason and I wear black gloves?”
I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting the urge to snap at him to shut up and leave me alone. As interested as I am in this particular topic, I don’t want to speak to Kie. I’m tired of him trying to force conversation.
I’ll talk when I’m good and ready, which will very likely be never.
Mason turns toward Kie, and after a long, drawn-out stare, he speaks for the first time in hours.
“Leave the human alone.”
My steps momentarily falter, and I drag my feet against the ground as I hurry to regain my usual gait. Did Mason just voluntarily defend me? He must have hit his head while leading the shifters off our trail.
He’s concussed. That’s the only explanation.
Kie hums, seeming to contemplate Mason’s order before returning his attention to me.
“Do you wish for me to stop speaking?”
I nod.
Kie smirks. “I’m going to need you to use your words, little bug.”
Little bug? I faintly recall him calling me that when we first met, and I disliked it then just as much as I do now. He’s only saying it to make me mad. He’s succeeding.
“Yes.” I hiss the word through my teeth.
Kie cocks his head to the side. “Yes? Yes, what?”
Yes, I want to stab you in the eye and watch you bleed out. Yes, I want to grab one of the large rocks scattered about and slam it against your head until it’s turned to mush. Yes, I want your brain matter to seep into the mud our feet sink into with every step. Yes, I want you to be bitten by a snake and your blood to coagulate until your skin turns blue and you die. Yes, I want you to watch your entire bloodline die and yes, I want to watch you watch it happen. Then I want you to die.
“Careful, bug,” Kie says, interrupting my thoughts. “Violence excites Mason. You’ll rile him up if you keep thinking such bad things about me.”
Mason sighs, the sound full of poorly concealed annoyance. I’m glad I’m not the only one. Still, my cheeks grow warm as what Kie just said registers. I never want to rile Mason up.
Kie and Mason are arguably attractive men. They’re tall and broad, and their faces look like they’re carved from fucking marble, but I want nothing to do with them. I’m sure the women back in the capital fawn over them, but unlike those women, I have standards.
I don’t care what fancy titles these two have. They’re assholes to their very core, and my vagina shrivels at the sight of them.
“Don’t you—”
Mason is quick to interrupt Kie. “Trolls are terrified of fire.”
Okay? Why the fuck is he telling me this? I suck my cheeks into my mouth, then give a curt nod. I’m not going to thank him for the information.
“Good to know,” I say.
Mason nods, staring straight ahead.
“Abby?” It’s Kie.
Just when I thought the damn questioning was over. I’m tired of it, and I pretend I don’t hear the faerie as I tilt my face toward the sun. There’s a slight chill in the air, probably because of the rain. I usually love the weather after a hard rain, but after last night, I never want to feel cold again. That was more than enough to last a lifetime.
“What do you know about shifters?” Kie asks.
I continue to do what I do best: ignore him.
“There’s a fresh spring about a quarter mile from here,” Mason says. I gulp, the thought of fresh, cold water too much to handle. “We should clean up before meeting with Zaha.”
My pulse races. I hope they aren’t planning to force me back into the water. There isn’t much I can do to stop them should they decide to do so, and I’m trying hard not to think about it. I have no control over their decisions, and I don’t have the mental energy to constantly worry about what they’ll do to me.