Page 60 of Lord of the Lone Wolf (Bonded Hearts #3)

Kitsuki

T wo guards stood at attention outside the royal command tent entrance, their expressions neutral despite the shocking sight of their king carrying a bloody Maseo.

Kitsuki’s dragon remained close to the surface, refusing to retreat after witnessing Maseo’s bravery against Nasume.

The fierce protectiveness that surged through them both when they saw Maseo fall had not abated.

If anything, it had intensified with each drop of blood that continued to seep from the half-shifter’s wounds.

“You,” Kitsuki commanded the guard on the right, his voice echoing his dragon’s influence. “Find the most skilled auramancer in the camp and bring them here. Tell them it is a matter of life and death.”

The guard saluted with a fist over his heart. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

To the second guard, Kitsuki extended his hand, revealing Nasume’s silver wolf pack ring resting on his palm.

The ancient band gleamed in the light, its engraved crest of Kunushi a stark reminder of the tyrant who had worn it for centuries.

“Take this to General Jaega. Tell him Nasume is dead. He is to begin negotiations for the immediate surrender of the Kunushi forces.”

The female guard’s eyes widened as she accepted the ring with reverent care. “Is it truly over, Your Majesty?”

“It is,” Kitsuki confirmed, his gaze dropping to Maseo’s pale face. “Thanks to this brave man.”

The guard bowed. “I will deliver it at once.”

As both guards departed on their missions, Kitsuki pushed aside the entrance flap of his royal tent. The familiar comforts welcomed him, a pocket of order and refinement amid the chaos of the war camp.

He carried Maseo deeper inside, past the carved wooden privacy screen that separated the living area from his sleeping quarters.

The bed dominated the space, its frame of polished silver inlaid with sapphires that caught the light from more crystal lanterns.

Silken sheets in the royal blue of Talwyn and plush pillows promised comfort that seemed a world away from the battlefield.

With utmost gentleness, Kitsuki helped Maseo sit on the bed.

The half-shifter winced as he settled, one hand pressed against his side where a deep gash continued to bleed.

It wept a mixture of blood and greenish fluid, the necromantic corruption visible as dark veins spreading out like poisonous spiderwebs beneath his skin.

Blood stained the fine silks, but Kitsuki paid it no mind.

Linens could be replaced, but Maseo could not.

“Lean back if you need to,” Kitsuki murmured, steadying Maseo with a hand on his shoulder. The half-shifter’s skin was too pale, his breathing shallow and rapid. His face remained twisted in pain.

Kitsuki’s dragon stirred within him. He should be healing already, like he did after Ishibiya hurt him , he observed with growing concern. Even half-shifters have accelerated abilities compared to humans.

The observation troubled Kitsuki. Not only did Maseo’s wounds show no signs of the regeneration that should have begun by now, but they appeared to be getting worse. The death magic in Nasume’s blade seemed to consume Maseo from within.

Kitsuki moved to the sink near the bed. Unlike the primitive accommodations of most war tents, his featured the luxuries of the palace, including running hot water channeled through the Enchanters’ magic. He turned the silver faucet, allowing steaming water to flow into the basin.

Taking a soft cloth from a nearby shelf, he soaked it in the hot water, wrung it out, and returned to Maseo’s side. Kitsuki knelt before the bed, looking up at the wounded half-shifter with solemn care.

Maseo’s remaining eye fixed on Kitsuki with a mixture of gratitude and discomfort. “Your Majesty,” he said, his voice weak but steady. “You shouldn’t kneel for me.”

Kitsuki remained unmoved by the protest. “You have done Talwyn a great service today, Maseo. You ended Nasume’s tyrannical reign when no one else could. If anyone has earned my respect, it is you.”

As Kitsuki raised the cloth toward Maseo’s face, the half-shifter flinched. Kitsuki paused, waiting until Maseo relaxed before proceeding. When the warm cloth touched his skin, he murmured in surprise, “It’s warm.”

“Did you expect me to use cold water on such wounds?” Kitsuki asked.

A ghost of a smile touched Maseo’s lips. “I expected nothing. I’m still not convinced this isn’t a dream.”

“If it were a dream, you would have no wounds.” Kitsuki cleaned the blood from the half-shifter’s face, taking great care around the edges of the wound that had claimed his eye.

The half-hearted joke drew a small, pained laugh from Maseo. “True enough.”

Kitsuki worked in silence for a moment, his movements precise and gentle.

The wound across Maseo’s eye was deep and jagged, extending from his left cheekbone up through his eyebrow.

The eye itself was beyond salvation, ruined by Nasume’s corrupted blade, but worse was the way the necromancy continued to eat away at the healthy tissue around it.

Each time Kitsuki dabbed at the wound, more of that green fluid seeped out, carrying with it the stench of decay.

“How do you feel?” Kitsuki asked, though the question seemed foolish with Maseo’s injuries.

Maseo attempted a brave face. “I’m breathing. That’s something.”

“It is indeed.” Kitsuki rinsed the cloth in the basin. The water turned pink with the half-shifter’s blood but took on a greenish tinge.

A lynx shifter auramancer arrived, her amber eyes alert and assessing.

Her white healer’s robes were pristine despite the mud and blood of the war camp beyond, and her brunette hair was pulled back in a practical braid that emphasized her sharp features.

She greeted them with a bow. “Your Majesty, I am Auramancer Lirienne. I came as quickly as I could.”

“Thank you for your promptness,” Kitsuki replied, stepping aside to allow her access to Maseo. “He has multiple wounds that require immediate attention.”

She approached the bed, her professional demeanor unwavering despite the severity of Maseo’s injuries.

Her expression shifted to one of alarm. She placed her hands over his face, not quite touching him, and closed her eyes in concentration.

A soft golden glow emanated from her palms, illuminating Maseo’s wounds with gentle light.

Kitsuki watched as hope warred with dread in his chest. The auramancer’s brow furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line as she concentrated. Her healing light flickered and recoiled, unable to penetrate the death magic that continued to spread through Maseo’s body.

After several tense minutes, she opened her eyes with a frown. “How were these wounds inflicted?”

“My father used a Divine sword corrupted by necromancy,” Maseo answered.

Understanding dawned in Lirienne’s eyes, followed by dismay. “That explains what I am sensing. The necromancy is actively consuming healthy tissue, your aura, and pieces of your soul, which is why I cannot heal you.”

The clinical assessment hit Kitsuki hard. Silver bled into his eyes as he struggled to maintain control of his dragon. “There must be something you can do.”

Lirienne bowed her head. “I am deeply sorry, Your Majesty. Necromancy is death magic, so the corruption is too aggressive for my magic to slow, let alone stop. I can send a healer to ease his pain and help prevent infection, but the necrotic wounds are beyond the abilities of any auramancer here.”

She hesitated, then added, “Perhaps your royal consort might have better luck. With the blood of the Powers in his veins, he possesses a special magic that shifters do not. If anyone could heal this damage, it would be someone like him who could separate the Divine injury from the necromancy.”

Hope flickered in Kitsuki’s chest at the suggestion. Auslin’s unique heritage might indeed provide solutions where traditional healing failed. Perhaps they could still save Maseo.

“Thank you for your efforts,” Maseo said.

“Yes, thank you,” Kitsuki echoed, inclining his head in gratitude.

Lirienne bowed once more before taking her leave, the tent flap falling closed behind her with a soft rustle of fabric.

Kitsuki moved to sit beside Maseo on the edge of the bed. His dragon emerged as he resumed tending to cleaning the wounds. “We apologize for failing to keep you safe as we promised.”

Maseo shook his head, wincing at the movement. “Please don’t feel bad. If losing an eye and enduring some scars is the price to pay to be rid of my father in this realm, it was worth it. Even if I die, I have no regrets.”

The simple declaration, spoken with quiet conviction, stirred something profound in Kitsuki’s chest. His dragon rumbled in approval, recognizing the courage and strength that had always drawn them to Maseo.

Silence fell between them as Kitsuki’s dragon used a gentle touch of magic to remove Maseo’s slashed shirt, revealing the full extent of the wounds beneath.

The slice across his ribs gaped, its edges blackened.

Dark veins pulsed with each beat of his heart as the death magic continued its relentless advance through his body.

With methodical care, Kitsuki washed the one on his ribs. The half-shifter remained silent, though occasional sharp intakes of breath betrayed his pain.

“Turn, please,” Kitsuki instructed after finishing. “I need to tend to your back.”

Maseo complied, revealing a long slash running diagonally across his shoulder. He asked, “How do you feel?”

“Regretful that we were not strong enough to keep you safe,” Kitsuki’s dragon answered, his hands never pausing in their careful work.

Maseo hesitated, then clarified, “I meant about what my father did to you.”

The dragon king’s hands stilled. “It is one more indignity Nasume heaped upon us in our long lives.” He resumed his care with deliberate focus.

“We are unaccustomed to being vulnerable, and we do not wish to feel that way again.” The admission cost him, but Maseo’s presence invited honesty in the wake of their shared experience of Nasume’s cruelty.

“Thank you for saving us. Your courage today will be remembered.”

Maseo turned back to face Kitsuki, his movement careful but determined. His remaining eye met Kitsuki’s silver gaze with shy intensity. “I’d do anything for you,” he admitted, the simple declaration carrying weight far beyond its words.

Something shifted in the air between them, a tension both fragile and powerful. Kitsuki’s dragon reached out, stroking Maseo’s uninjured right cheek with the back of his knuckles. The touch lingered, drawing a soft intake of breath from the half-shifter.

“Then be happy,” Kitsuki’s dragon murmured. “We want that more than anything for you. And we will stop at nothing until you are safe.”

Their gazes held, a moment stretching into eternity. In Maseo’s remaining eye, Kitsuki saw a universe of unspoken feelings and tentative hope blooming despite the pain and loss of the day.

His dragon urged him forward, drawn by an instinct as old as time itself. The need to protect, to claim, to cherish what was theirs. There was no doubt in the dragon’s mind that Maseo was theirs, the same as Auslin.

Kitsuki reached out and drew Maseo into a careful embrace, mindful of his injuries. The half-shifter’s body felt smaller in his arms than he’d expected. The contrast between Maseo’s mortal frame and the indomitable spirit within struck Kitsuki with breathtaking clarity.

He buried his nose in the crook of Maseo’s neck.

Beneath the metallic tang of blood, Maseo’s natural aroma of sun-warmed cedar, wild mountain herbs, and the subtle sweetness of berries called to Kitsuki’s dragon on a primal level.

The scent differed from Auslin’s sunshine yet brought the same comfort.

“We thought we would lose you,” Kitsuki’s dragon confessed, his words muffled against Maseo’s skin. “When we saw you fall, when we saw your blood…”

The memory of Maseo collapsing, his face slashed open and his body riddled with necromantic wounds, made Kitsuki draw him closer.

He had hated the helplessness of watching through the green barrier, unable to protect him.

Terror had clawed through Kitsuki’s chest when he thought Nasume would succeed in taking Maseo from them forever.

He tightened his embrace, one hand cradling the back of Maseo’s head while the other rested across his lower back, holding him with a reverence that bordered on worship.

The contact of their bare skin ignited something profound in Kitsuki’s soul, a recognition so fundamental it shook the very foundations of his being.

This is right , his dragon whispered within him. He belongs with us.

Kitsuki no longer had the strength or will to argue against his dragon. Not when holding Maseo in his arms brought him the first peace he had experienced since leaving Auslin at the castle in Tiora.

Maseo returned the embrace, his hands trembling as they settled between Kitsuki’s shoulder blades.

He spread his fingers as if to memorize the feel of the king’s bare skin beneath his palm.

The touch was gentle and reverent, carrying none of the presumption or demand that had characterized Nasume’s violations.

“I’m here,” Maseo whispered, his breath warm against Kitsuki’s neck. “I survived.”

The simple statement unleashed a flood of emotion that threatened to drown Kitsuki. His dragon surged forward with fierce joy, possessive relief, and a certainty that he could no longer deny.

He’s ours , his dragon insisted .

For centuries, Kitsuki had fought against his heritage.

The Ariake lineage was notorious for its need for multiple partners, a trait his father, Tatsuki, had indulged with abandon.

Kitsuki had sworn he would be different, had vowed he would never follow that path.

When he found Auslin, he believed he had overcome his heritage, that one true love would be enough.

But his bone-deep certainty about Maseo was nothing like his father’s casual conquests. It wasn’t lust or novelty but a recognition of a piece of his soul clicking into place beside the space Auslin already occupied. Fate was as inevitable as the tides, and as necessary as breath.

His dragon stirred with newfound desires, urging him to claim Maseo and complete the bond that hummed between them.

The urge to press his lips to Maseo’s almost overwhelmed him.

His dragon craved their trinity, the sealing of their bond through physical connection.

But Kitsuki held firm against his dragon’s impulses.

Nothing would happen until they reunited with Auslin in Tiora.