Page 62 of Lord of the Lone Wolf (Bonded Hearts #3)

Jaega’s expression turned thoughtful. “For now, I have established a temporary council of our diplomats to work with the highest-ranking courtiers who were not loyal to Nasume’s more extreme policies. I have offered to stay and oversee the transition to ensure stability.”

“A wise approach,” Kitsuki acknowledged with a nod of approval. “Your experience will be invaluable during this period of uncertainty.”

“Kisano is the natural choice for the throne of Kunushi,” Kizoshi interjected. “Our brother has the diplomatic training, the intelligence, and none of Nasume’s madness. The Claim of Conquest grants you the right to appoint a successor, brother. It should be Kisano.”

Kitsuki raised an eyebrow at his sister’s suggestion. “While your logic is sound, I doubt our brother will leave his library for a regency in Kunushi.”

“Leave Kisano to me,” Kizoshi replied. “Sephen and I will persuade him of the benefits of inheriting Nasume’s sizable library after his coronation. The traditionalists may howl about dragon blood on the wolf throne, but they will soon recognize the wisdom in breaking the cycle of Venrik tyranny.”

“The courtiers may protest, but the people have suffered enough that they will welcome the change,” Jaega added. “I am confident that Kisano and Sephen can do much to ease their millennia of suffering.”

The casual way they discussed the future of an entire kingdom, determining its fate in the quiet confines of a war tent, reminded Maseo of the vast power the Ariake clan wielded.

Unlike his father, who had used his to dominate and destroy, they seemed concerned with stability and the welfare of the people affected by their decisions.

“Very well,” Kitsuki conceded. “I trust your judgment in this matter. In the meantime, I intend to fly Maseo home as soon as possible. His wounds require Auslin’s attention if there is any hope of saving him.”

The mention of returning to Tiora stirred a complicated mix of emotions in Maseo.

Relief at the prospect of proper healing, anxiety about facing Auslin with his ruined appearance, and a strange, inexplicable yearning at the thought of seeing the healer again.

He had missed Auslin more than was appropriate while fighting on the war front.

The fear of disappointing him with his failure to return unscathed weighed on Maseo’s heart.

“A wise decision,” Kizoshi agreed, her gaze flicking to Maseo’s ruined eye before settling on his other wounds with calculating intensity. “The healer’s poultices will help manage his pain during the journey, but this injury requires a different intervention.”

Her amethyst eyes seemed to pierce through Maseo as she continued. “Sometimes salvation wears the mask of destruction. Auslin’s greatest gift to you may not be what his hands can mend, but what his courage can unmake.”

Kitsuki furrowed his brow at his sister’s cryptic words. “What do you mean?”

She studied Maseo with an expression that seemed to see far beyond his surface wounds.

“Your journey is far from over, Maseo. Auslin will understand when the time comes. His nature makes him uniquely suited to offer what you will need most. Only with his help can you find the redemption you deserve.”

Kitsuki frowned, his expression resolute. “Then we will leave immediately. Every hour counts if there is any chance of reversing the damage.”

“It is not safe for either of you to travel tonight,” Kizoshi countered, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“You have both endured an ordeal that would have broken lesser men. Let the healer tend to Maseo, then you can leave at first light. It will still take you more than a week to return home if you fly as a dragon. I assure you, an extra night of rest will not threaten his life.”

“Then we shall depart at dawn.”

“Your Majesty, Healer Santhia has arrived,” the guard announced.

Kizoshi stepped back with a knowing smile that held both sadness and hope.

“Remember that the greatest victories are often won not by those who refuse to fall, but by those who choose how to rise.” She gave a satisfied nod.

“We will leave you to your treatment, Maseo. Uncle and I have much to discuss regarding the transition in Kunushi.”

As they left, the healer entered, carrying a basket of supplies. “I am Healer Santhia,” she introduced herself with a respectful bow. “Auramancer Lirienne sent me to apply poultices to your wounds and provide pain relief.”

Maseo nodded his acknowledgment, very aware of Kitsuki’s continued presence in the tent.

He had expected the king to leave with his sister and uncle to attend to the countless matters requiring his attention after such a momentous victory.

Instead, Kitsuki moved to stand near the head of the bed as the healer sorted through her supplies.

“I will start with your eye, if I may,” Santhia said, removing a small clay pot from her basket. “This poultice contains herbs that will reduce inflammation and provide some relief. It will sting, but that sensation should give way to numbness soon.”

Maseo steeled himself as she examined his injury. “The necromantic energy has caused extensive damage, but this should help with the pain.”

As she dipped her fingers into the greenish paste, Kitsuki moved closer, resting his hand on Maseo’s shoulder in silent support. The warm and reassuring weight gave Maseo something else to focus on besides the hurt.

The first touch of the poultice against his ruined eye sent lightning flashing through him, so intense that his entire body went rigid with the effort not to scream.

It felt as though molten metal was being poured into his brain, every nerve ending in his face catching fire at once.

Kitsuki’s hand tightened on his shoulder, grounding him as she continued to apply the medicine with gentle, efficient movements.

“Remember to breathe, Maseo,” Kitsuki murmured. “The pain will pass.”

Maseo forced himself to inhale deeply, then exhale slowly, repeating the pattern as the healer worked. True to her word, the burning turned to blessed numbness that spread outward from the wound, dulling the agony to a more manageable throb.

“There,” Santhia said, finishing with a bandage to secure the poultice in place. “I should warn you that the potent herbs can cause drowsiness.”

Maseo nodded in understanding, already feeling a slight heaviness settling over him as it took effect. The relief from the constant pain was so profound that he had to resist the urge to close his remaining eye and surrender to the beckoning darkness of sleep.

The healer moved on to his other wounds, applying similar poultices to his other injuries. Each application brought the same cycle of initial sharp pain followed by numbing relief until Maseo’s entire body felt wrapped in a cocoon of merciful detachment from his suffering.

“Please prepare additional poultices for our journey back to Tiora,” Kitsuki requested. “We leave at dawn.”

“I will make preparations at once, Your Majesty,” Santhia replied with a respectful bow. “I will deliver them to your tent later this evening.”

The concern in Kitsuki’s voice and his prioritization of Maseo’s well-being without hesitation sent a warm glow through Maseo’s chest. It was still strange to be treated with such consideration, to have his comfort matter to someone of Kitsuki’s status.

Santhia finished bandaging the last of Maseo’s wounds and then packed her supplies back into her basket.

“Change the dressings every six hours. Rest is essential for your body to recover what strength it can, though the Divine and necromantic damage will require more specialized treatment than I can provide.”

“Thank you for your care,” Maseo said, feeling the herbs taking a stronger hold.

Santhia bowed. “It is an honor to serve the man who ended Nasume’s reign of terror. The entire camp speaks of your bravery, Lord Maseo.”

The title caught him off guard, and he blinked in confusion. Despite being a prince by birth, nobody ever addressed him with a title. He was a bastard with no claim to honor.

Before he could correct her, Santhia had already turned to Kitsuki and bowed again. “With your permission, Your Majesty, I will take my leave and return in a few hours to change the poultices.”

“Thank you, Healer Santhia,” Kitsuki replied with a regal nod. “Your service is appreciated.”

With a final bow, the healer departed, leaving Maseo alone with Kitsuki once more.

Maseo shifted, wincing as his bandaged wounds tugged despite the numbing effect of the poultices.

“I should return to my tent,” he said, although the thought of leaving the comfort of Kitsuki’s presence made his heart sink.

“You must have many matters requiring your attention now that the war is over.”

“Stay,” Kitsuki said, the word carrying the weight of command despite its softness. “You need rest, and I want to keep you where I can watch over you.”

Joy blossomed in Maseo’s chest at the request, though he tried to maintain a neutral expression. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“It is no imposition,” Kitsuki assured him. “Nothing is more important right now than ensuring your recovery. The Living Realm is safe because of your courage. Let me honor that by caring for you now.”

The sincerity in Kitsuki’s voice made Maseo’s throat tight with emotion. He nodded, unable to trust himself to speak without revealing the depth of his feelings.

Kitsuki moved to the other side of the bed, sitting against the carved headboard. “Rest,” he said, gesturing for Maseo to lie down. “I will be here if you need anything.”

Maseo hesitated before shifting to lie on his uninjured side, mindful of his bandaged wounds. The silken sheets against his skin were a luxury. The mattress yielded to his weight, cradling his battered body in comfort.

From his vantage point, Maseo could see Kitsuki’s profile as the dragon king gazed into the distance.

The strong line of his jaw, the regal set of his shoulders, and the deep blue of his eyes all conveyed a power that was contained but not diminished.

Yet there was a vulnerability that Maseo had never noticed before today.

The herbs in the poultice made his thoughts drift, like leaves on a gentle breeze. He studied Kitsuki’s face, memorizing each detail as if it might be the last time he could be so close. The events of the day felt almost dreamlike now, too momentous to be real.

“What are you thinking?” Kitsuki asked, shifting to meet Maseo’s gaze.

The herbs lowered Maseo’s usual defenses. “I can’t believe it’s over. It’s unbelievable my father is gone.”

Kitsuki’s expression softened. “You did what many thought impossible. You faced your greatest fear and emerged victorious. Few can claim such courage.”

“It was rage,” Maseo confessed, the words slipping out before he could reconsider. “When I saw him on top of you, when I realized what he intended to do…” He trailed off, unable to articulate the fury that had consumed him in that moment.

“Rage born of protection is its own kind of courage,” Kitsuki replied. “You could have fled. You could have decided the risk was too great. Instead, you stood your ground and fought for something beyond yourself.”

Kitsuki’s expression grew more serious, his voice taking on a note of fierce determination.

“I will not let necromancy claim you, Maseo. Whatever it takes, however far I must search, I will stop the corruption before it is too late. You saved my life today, and I swear on my throne that I will save yours in return.”

His vow spoke of a determination that could move mountains if necessary. For the first time since the auramancer had delivered her grim prognosis, Maseo felt a flicker of hope that he might survive the ordeal after all.

As the herbs worked deeper into his system, Maseo’s remaining eye grew heavy. He struggled to keep it open, to maintain his precious connection with Kitsuki for as long as possible. “I couldn’t let him hurt you again,” he murmured, the admission hanging in the air between them.

Kitsuki reached out, his fingers brushing against Maseo’s uninjured cheek in a touch so gentle it felt almost imagined. “And I cannot bear that you were hurt protecting me,” he replied, his voice deepening with emotion. “But I am grateful beyond words for your sacrifice. It will not be in vain.”

His touch sent warmth rippling through Maseo’s body. He longed to lean into it, to turn his face into Kitsuki’s palm and feel that connection more fully. But even with the herbs dulling his inhibitions, he knew better than to act on such dangerous impulses.

“Rest now,” Kitsuki said, withdrawing his hand. “Tomorrow, we fly back to Tiora. Let us hope Auslin will know how to help you.”

The mention of Auslin stirred a fresh wave of complicated emotions.

Maseo had grown fond of the healer during their time together at the palace.

Auslin had shown him kindness when he deserved none and had saved his life when it would have been easier to let him die.

The thought of seeing him again, of merging auras and feeling those gentle hands tend to his wounds, created a warmth in Maseo’s chest that both comforted and confused him.

“Do you think he’ll be able to save me?” Maseo asked.

“Because of Auslin’s heritage, his abilities surpass those of ordinary healers and auramancers. If anyone can save you, it would be him. But even if he cannot restore your sight, losing an eye does not diminish your worth or capabilities.”

Maseo fought against the drowsy effect of the poultice. The quiet intimacy of lying in Kitsuki’s bed while the dragon king kept watch over him, and the knowledge that tomorrow they would fly together to Auslin, felt too precious to surrender to sleep.

“What do you think Kizoshi meant?” Maseo asked. “About salvation wearing the mask of destruction, and Auslin’s greatest gift being what his courage can unmake?”

Kitsuki’s expression shifted, something complex and unreadable passing across his features. “The Powers have their own plans, and Kizoshi, being the best friend of Fate Power Sophina, sometimes glimpses fragments of their intentions.”

His hand moved closer to Maseo’s on the silk sheets, not quite touching but close enough that Maseo could feel the warmth radiating from it.

“Some fates require extraordinary strength to bear them. Perhaps yours demanded that you learn resilience before it could reveal its true purpose. Whatever trials you must face in the future, you will not do it alone.”

The quiet certainty in his words and the underlying promise they conveyed filled him with anticipation. He needed to be more careful to hide his feelings for Kitsuki before he ruined everything by falling for two men he could never have.