Chapter Forty
ABBY
I HATED PUBLIC speaking growing up, and my current anxiety feels similar to how it did in middle school when the teacher decided we’d take turns reading aloud. I’d put my head down and frantically skim the paragraph ahead of the one we were on, mentally preparing in case I was the unfortunate student chosen to read next.
Looking back, it was such a trivial thing to be afraid of. I’d give anything to be back in the human realm reading to a group of snickering middle schoolers.
Blood rushes through my ears, so violent and so loud, I’m shocked Kie and Mason can’t hear it. They’re quiet, communicating with one another through sideways glances and hushed whispers. Their whispers never mean anything good, but I’m coming to accept that they’re going to happen whether or not I like them.
These two were clearly never taught that whispering in front of people is rude. Or maybe they were and they just don’t care. It’s probably the latter.
Traveling during the day is nice, and I let the sun warm my cheeks as I walk between the pair. They’ve decided to resume their new method of walking, one on either side of me. I don’t see the benefit or reason for this new strategy, but whenever I try to speed up or slow down, they almost immediately match my pace.
My clothes are just beginning to dry from the stream when Kie begins his incessant questions about the human realm. I ignore him just as I did earlier, but my patience is wearing thin. You’d think having water and clean clothes would improve my mood, but I feel just as irritable today as I have the past several days.
At least before I was too tired to dwell on my situation. I was too worried about surviving the day, but now I can’t stop wondering what will happen when Kie and Mason give me to Zaha.
“Do you have any siblings?” Kie asks. I stare straight ahead, pretending not to hear him. It doesn’t work. “How old are you?”
I let out a long sigh, already knowing he’s not going to stop. Plus, I told him my age the first time I met him. It was a sad attempt to humanize myself and keep him from killing me. I told him I was twenty-six and worked in accounting, and he told me he was twenty-seven and worked in politics.
I remember that conversation very well.
“Why?” I ask.
I was good about ignoring him and his thousand questions earlier, but my refusal to answer doesn’t stop him from asking. It’s like he has a rolodex of annoying questions stored in his head.
“Just making conversation,” Kie says. “I’m twenty-seven.”
I already know that.
I hum. “I’m twenty-six.”
I don’t see the harm in sharing how old I am. Besides, it’s not like they can’t guess. I very much look my age. My gaze darts toward Mason, but I hurriedly look away when I realize he’s already staring at me. He’s always doing that, and it freaks me out.
He’s attractive enough that I’m sure the faeries in the capital don’t mind him leering—they might even find it flattering—but I can confidently say I’m not a fan. It’s beyond creepy, and if he doesn’t stop, I’m going to gouge out his big, green buggy eyes.
He can’t stare if he doesn’t have eyes.
“Mason’s thirty-two,” Kie says.
Mason scoffs. “I’m thirty.”
The corner of Kie’s lip twitches, like he’s proud of himself for having gotten Mason to speak. They’re constantly bickering, reminding me of the neighborhood cats who often fight right outside my window in the middle of the night.
Mason is the fat, brown one with half its ear bitten off, and Kie is the equally fat tabby who is constantly antagonizing. It was evident by their large bellies that they had homes they went to at the end of every night. They were domestic and lazy, despite what they wanted to pretend.
I bet Mason and Kie are domestic and lazy at their core. They’ve been relatively resourceful out here, but they probably never have to lift a finger in their real lives. I bet they’ve got servants who bring them their every meal, and it wouldn’t surprise me to learn they have a person who wipes their asses after every bowel movement.
Kie repeats his earlier question. “Do you have any siblings?”
I shrug, still refusing to answer. Aaron’s an asshole on his best of days, always has been, but I’ll be damned if I drag him into this mess.
I hope he’s taking care of Lill. Given how weak she was when I left and the inevitable damage opening that portal caused her, she’ll need help. Aaron doesn’t have time to wait on her hand and foot, as I did, but anything helps.
“Do you ?” I ask, turning the question around on Kie.
He shakes his head. “No.”
Figures.
“Your turn, Mace,” Kie says, trying to pull Mason into the conversation.
I spare a quick glance at the shifter. He’s no longer looking at me, thank the fucking gods, and instead, he glares at Kie over my head. I wait, hoping he says something snarky, but he doesn’t.
That’s disappointing.
I pick up the pace, but I quickly slow when I realize that’ll bring us to the portal quicker. I’ve come to accept that there’ll be no escaping, that every attempt I make is pointless and usually leads to an injury.
Mason hasn’t gone out of his way to threaten me today, but he doesn’t need to. I’ll never forget how it felt to have his hand wrapped around my throat, his fingers squeezing so tightly as I clawed at them and fought for oxygen. I thought I was going to die, and I still feel the soreness when I suck in too deep a breath.
Of all the things he’s done, from his verbal threats to the physical attacks, the choking was the worst.
“I hope you know we aren’t doing this for fun,” Kie eventually says.
I hum but don’t otherwise respond.
“You have your secrets, but I think you’re a nice woman,” he continues. “I’m not excited to give you to Zaha, and I’m not doing it to be malicious. I have an entire kingdom to look after, and I have to put my people first.”
Eyeroll.
Kie fully intended to kill me when he first found me. He also called me a bug , which I’m still offended by, and Mason attacked me. If it weren’t for me being human, he’d have let Mason kill me then and there.
We both know that.
“Zaha isn’t that bad,” Kie continues. “She’ll treat you fairly, and when you get old, there’s a good chance she’ll let you go home.”
I’ll return to dead parents and a dead best friend. How wonderful.
Aaron might still be alive, but I can’t count on that. He’s a ball of stress, and I’m pretty sure his heart will fail him before we’re old.
“You might even find you like it there,” Kie says. I wish he’d stop speaking. “The gods live quite a lavish lifestyle, and I’m sure you’ll reap some of the benefits.”
He’s only saying this to make himself feel better. He’s giving away my freedom, giving away something that never belonged to him, and nothing he says is going to change my outlook on that.
Mason speaks up. “Zaha won’t spoil her.”
I hate Mason, I really fucking do, but at least he’s willing to speak the truth. Kie’s too much of a politician, but Mason doesn’t care if what he says upsets people. I’ll give him kudos for that.
My hands are shaking, and I wipe my palms on my shirt as I try to think of a way out of this. I’m running out of opportunities to do so—I’m painfully aware of that fact. I don’t know what I can offer these men, though, that would tempt them into letting me go.