Page 22 of The Shattered Kingdom (The Cursed Kingdom #2)

ABBY

JACKIE CURTSEYS, AND her father gives a deep bow.

“Your Majesties,” he says.

I grind my teeth as Jackie copies him, practically purring the words.

Arthur turns toward Kie. “I’m so sorry to hear about the late queen. She was truly a marvelous woman, stolen from us much too soon. You have my sincerest condolences.”

This is the first time today someone has acknowledged Kie’s mother.

“Thank you,” he says. “Your condolences are appreciated.”

Arthur continues. “I’d like to revisit the tentative agreement we were sorting through prior to your meeting with Zaha.” He shifts his attention to Mason. “I’m sure you’re under great pressure to take a wife, and my daughter is still available.”

She’s available because she’s a bitch. I bite my tongue.

Jackie’s dad pauses, clearly waiting for Kie or Mason to speak, but he’s met with silence.

It’s awkward, and he clears his throat before continuing.

“Jacqueline is greatly respected, and she exhibits the grace and poise befitting a queen. A marriage between our families would be highly advantageous.”

Jackie smiles, showcasing a mouth full of beautiful, white teeth. I want to punch them out of her head. I want to curb-stomp her face into the fucking ground until her brains are leaking out of her ears and her skull is fragmented into a million tiny pieces.

I blame the bond.

Mason straightens up in his seat, but it’s Kie who responds. They didn’t plan for this question, and Mason has no rehearsed answer.

“We aren’t looking for a wife at the moment,” Kie says. He sounds calm. “But we’ll take your offer under consideration and be in contact should circumstances change.”

Neither Jackie nor her dad looks particularly pleased, and I curl my hand around the back of Mason’s throne as they take their leave. That’s not the answer I was expecting Kie to give.

I didn’t think they’d declare me their mate or anything, but a firm ‘no’ wouldn’t have hurt.

Mason lifts his hand, and Anox calls for a brief recess.

Once chatter has resumed, Kie spins around. “Arthur won’t speak against us if he thinks there’s a possibility we’ll marry his daughter,” he explains, his voice low so he isn’t overheard. “We need his support, so we can’t outright dismiss Jackie.”

I hum. “I understand.”

Mason turns, and I feel only slightly comforted by the fire in his eyes. He stares at me for a long moment, his gaze shifting from my downturned lips to my heaving chest. I flush when angry, and I can only imagine how red I am right now.

He spins back around without speaking, which Kie also hurries to explain. “It’s against tradition for the king to have private conversations while court is being held. This is a public affair, and it’s seen as a slight.”

Mason groans, shifting in his seat. “I can practically taste her jealousy. ”

He speaks into the room, to nobody in particular. I look out, but the faeries are busy getting refreshments and chatting. Even the ones in line aren’t paying attention.

“Whose?” I ask. “Jackie’s?”

Mason shakes his head. “Yours.” His voice is so low, I can barely hear what he’s saying.

He places a hand over his lap, adjusting himself. Is he hard? Is my jealousy turning him on? I hate men.

“Do you like it?” Mason asks, still speaking to the room. “You can play with it later.”

I refuse to let myself so much as consider the offer.

Kie sighs. “Mason…”

It’s a quiet warning, but Mason ignores him. “I never had a mouth on it. I want to know what it feels like.”

Even if the faeries can’t hear Mason’s words, they can still see him. He’s practically humping the air, his hips twitching every few seconds. The movements are muted, but Mason seems unable to remain entirely still.

“Stop teasing Abby,” Kie says.

“ Teasing ?” I can’t help but snort, mildly amused. “Mason’s poor impulse control isn’t having the effect he’s hoping for.”

Kie raises a brow. “I’m sure.”

I wish I could curb-stomp his face into the ground, too.

“I’m not sure what you—” My voice dies out as an intense pain erupts in my chest.

I release a choked gasp, and one hand flies over my heart while the other clutches Mason’s throne.

I lean over it, unable to make a noise or breathe or even fucking think.

The pain lessens as Kie jolts up, and I dig my nails into his arms as he grabs me around the waist and shoves me entirely behind Mason.

His grip is so tight, it hurts, and I wince as he pushes me down, hiding me behind Mason’s throne.

Mason’s voice echoes through the room. “Shut and lock the doors. Bring anybody lingering in the hallways inside.”

There are several undignified shouts. I don’t understand what’s happening, not in the slightest, and it’s impossible to think through the burning pain. Kie’s hovering above me, fretting over my chest.

He rips open the front of my dress, and I screech as he exposes my breasts.

“They’re still doing it,” he says to Mason. He sounds like he’s in pain. “They’re trying to stop her heart, and they’re strong. There’s more than one. They’re working together.”

They’re trying to do what ? Stop my heart? What does that even mean? The pain intensifies, and I instinctively thrash out my arms. My head hits the wooden leg of Mason’s chair, but I don’t really notice.

Kie winces. “Fuck.”

He rips off his gloves and presses his palm flat against my chest. There’s an immediate jolt as he ignites the bond, but the intensity is overshadowed by the warmth that erupts where he touches. The pain dissipates, and I grab his wrist as I slump against the ground.

Tears begin pooling and pouring down my cheeks, my physical reaction to the shock and pain impossible to control. I’m faintly aware I’m shaking as Kie presses his forehead against mine. The touch doesn’t last long as Mason shoves Kie aside and rips me off the ground.

The shifter is trembling, and he groans as he buries his face into the top of my head.

“I need you to keep me from shifting and killing every faerie inside this room.” He sounds desperate. “I need you to do it now , Abby.”

I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to do that .

I act on instinct as I slide my hand up his torso and around the back of his neck, and I hope he doesn’t mind that I’m actively crying as I guide his head down and smash my lips against his.

There’s a brief moment of pause, maybe even panic, before Mason relaxes. I’m all too aware this is his second kiss, but his hesitance doesn’t last for long. He learns quickly, picking up the movements with ease.

It’s a good kiss. I wasn’t expecting that.

Mason groans, but it’s not a noise of desire. He’s fighting with himself, and I hope I’m helping because I have no idea what else to do. I’m pretty sure I read this in a fated mates book once, and it worked.

“You two need to leave,” Kie orders. “Preferably now.”

Mason disconnects his mouth from mine, and he makes brief eye contact with Kie before carrying me from the room. The faeries part for us, their movements panicked and frantic as they scramble to get out of Mason’s way.

Over his shoulder, I see Kie. He still stands near the throne, and he’s giving orders I can’t hear over the erupting chaos. His eyes briefly meet mine just before the doors are slammed shut behind Mason. They block out all the noise, leaving Mason and me in heavy silence.

His deep breathing is the only sound I hear as he carries me away. His brisk walking pace is faster than my running.

“Keep touching me.”

I do, sliding my hands through his hair and pressing my cheek against his.

Mason quickens, and the few faeries we pass dart out of the way when they see us coming. They look scared, and I don’t blame them. If Mason weren’t begging me to touch him, I’d be afraid he was going to kill me, too.

“What just happened?” I ask .

“Somebody in that room tried to kill you.” Mason tightens his grip on my waist as he shoves open the front door to his home. “Kie will take care of it. I will keep you safe. And you will prevent me from losing control and murdering every faerie on the property.”

Mason storms toward his bedroom.

“It’s easiest for faeries to open portals to locations they’ve been before,” Mason explains. “No faerie has ever been inside my bedroom. You’re safest here.”

I’m shaking. I didn’t realize it until now, but as Mason sets me on his bed, I realize I can’t keep myself from shivering. Somebody just tried to kill me—to stop my heart. I don’t understand why. Nobody’s ever wanted to kill me before, Mason excluded.

Mason tears at the fabric of my dress and places his hand over my bare chest. Feeling my beating heart seems to calm him briefly, but it doesn’t last long.

He pulls away and rips off his shirt, the buttons scattering.

I stare at his chest, not the least bit intrigued by the muscles and skin that typically send me into a flurry.

Mason isn’t spending much time admiring me, either.

He pulls me in for a hug, pressing our bare skin together.

He’s still shaking. Every muscle in his body is tensing and releasing irregularly, and I hesitate before nudging him to lie down. He does, and I straddle his waist. He can’t leave and kill people when I’m sitting on him.

“Please!” Mason gasps. “I can’t—”

His back arches in a way I’ve only seen in horror movies, and a low, pained groan seeps from his throat. I’m not the least bit sure how I’m supposed to keep him calm, and I’m doing a shit job at it.

Mason looks seconds away from losing control.

His shoulder pops forward, dislocating from the joint. It’s arguably the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen, and I grimace as I grab the muscle and shove it back into place.

“Stop that,” I hiss.

Mason thrashes, and his other shoulder shifts forward. I shove that one back into place, too.

“Stop this right now,” I say. “Put your shoulders back.”

He ignores me, and if one more part of him pops out of place, I will lose the little bit of sanity I have left. I didn’t sign up for this when I touched him. I signed up to be a pretty queen consort who frolics through fields of daisies, not an emotional support human.

“I’m a sister,” I blurt out. “I have an older brother. His name is Aaron, and he’s turning thirty this year. People used to tell me I looked just like him, which I always hated growing up. I thought they were telling me I looked like a boy.”

Mason’s shoulders return to their sockets.

“Growing up, he was best friends with this boy named Tommy Knocker, who I thought was so cute—” A shoulder pops back out. “I was six!”

Mason glares up at me. “I. Don’t. Care!”

“Anyway,” I continue. “He and Aaron used to call me a ‘troll.’ I hated it, and I’m looking forward to rubbing it in Aaron’s face that I’m mated to a faerie prince and a shifter king. He’s going to be jealous.”

Mason chuckles, but it sounds more like a whine than anything else. I’d tell him just how unattractive he’s being if I weren’t afraid of those damn shoulders popping back out.

“Tell me about your siblings,” I order.

“I don’t know where to start.” Mason gulps. “Kalix is my brother. He’s set to become the next Alpha after my father, but I don’t have many memories of him. He’s two years younger than me…”