Page 42 of The Shattered Kingdom (The Cursed Kingdom #2)

ABBY

TIME WITH MY family passes too quickly. One minute I’m pretending to be interested in Aaron’s love life update, and the next they’re being politely ushered away by Kie so I can prepare for my coronation.

Mason has been tasked with keeping my family occupied and safe. The idea of my grunting mate trying to entertain my family would be mildly comical on any other day.

His eyes practically bulged out of his head when I gave him the order, but he’s the top man for the job. Besides, we all know Kie’s the best one to help me prepare. Unlike Mason, Kie cares about faerie traditions. He’ll take this seriously.

Two women flitter around me, one braiding my hair into an intricate faerie hairstyle and another trying to teach me the words I’ll need to repeat to Anox during the ceremony. She’s growing increasingly frustrated. I’m trying my best, but the pronunciation is complicated.

The short-haired, violet-eyed diction coach repeats a word I’ve been struggling with, and I resist the urge to rip out my hair as I attempt to copy her. My tongue doesn’t want to form around the vowels, and the more I try, the worse it gets .

Kie’s standing by the front door, closely monitoring my every interaction with the two faerie women.

I’ve gathered that he wasn’t involved in the decision to have them help me prepare, and he argued with them at the door for several minutes before grudgingly letting them inside.

This must be Anox’s doing. Or maybe Jackie’s.

I attempt the word again, my fists curling when everything comes out wrong. Why can’t I get this? It shouldn’t be this hard.

“Let’s take a break,” Kie suggests.

“Yes.” The diction coach nods. “That’s a great idea.”

She storms from the room, letting the front door slam shut behind her.

The young girl styling my hair takes a minute longer to complete what she’s doing, and she offers a gentle pat on my shoulder as she finishes and excuses herself.

She hasn’t spoken a word, but she seems nice.

She’s been beaming since stepping into the room.

She’s young, too. I’d guess she’s only about thirteen, but Kie didn’t bat an eye at her age, so I haven’t either.

I faintly remember Lill mentioning once that it’s common for children of court to be given small jobs. Maybe this is one of them.

I’m taking it as a good sign that the faeries are trusting their children around me, not that I’m much of a threat. Even at thirteen, I’m sure that girl can whoop my ass.

I wait until Kie and I are alone before speaking. “Tell me more about this whole palm-cutting thing.”

It’s what I’m most nervous about. Mason cut open his hand during the ceremony, but I have a low tolerance for pain and I don’t heal the way the shifter does.

“What are you looking to know?” Kie asks. “It’s done to show commitment. To show that you’re willing to bleed for your people. You don’t have to cut your hand as deeply as Mason did, but you will need to draw blood. It’s unavoidable.”

I groan, and Kie laughs. “I promise we’ll make it up to you. ”

He stalks toward me, his piercing gaze roaming down my frame.

I’ve changed into a thick, blood-red dress, one picked out by Kie himself.

It’s low cut, and it’s been laced so tightly that my airflow is restricted.

I’m not a fan of the lack of oxygen, but Kie obviously enjoys the way it pushes my breasts up.

Kie eyes my chest. “This dress is going to drive Mason crazy.”

I frown. “Is that all?”

Kie likes the dress, and I want him to tell me so. I don’t enjoy him hiding his compliments behind Mason. He can say them for himself.

“I love it when you wear red,” he finally admits. “And I love it when you wear the clothing I picked out. It makes me…”

He trails off, and I bite back a smile. “It makes you what, Kie?”

The way he’s looking at me, all need and desire, makes me feel powerful. I enjoy knowing I affect the faerie prince.

His hands land on my hips, heavy and warm, and I can barely contain my excitement as he circles me. I don’t spend much alone time with Kie, and I’m looking forward to getting to know him better.

Kie’s chest presses against my back, and his hot breath brushes over my shoulder.

I shiver, desperate to know what he’s planning. What’s he like when the shifter isn’t breathing down our necks?

“I’m going to dress you every day of our lives,” he says.

I don’t mind giving him that control. He obviously loves it, and I don’t have a huge desire to pick out my own clothing. It would be nice, but it’s by no means a necessity. I express myself in other ways.

Besides, I secretly love the idea of being treated like a precious treasure, dressed up and paraded about. I want to be spoiled and pampered and have every stressful decision taken away. It’s not something I’m supposed to admit as an independent, grown adult woman, but it’s how I feel.

“How are you?” I blurt out.

A beat of silence, then, “What do you mean?”

“I’m just… I hope you know I’m here to talk if you ever need it.”

“Is this about my mother?” Kie asks.

I half shrug, half nod. “Amongst other things. I know it’s against faerie tradition to mourn, and you’re exceptionally good at ignoring your emotions, but I’m here if you ever want somebody to talk to. I do care.”

Kie’s warm breath brushes over my neck. “Thank you. I—” He clears his throat, then continues.

“It hasn’t been easy, but there’s no point in dwelling over the things I can’t change.

I admit I miss my mother and sometimes I’m upset with Mason’s recent turn of events, but it helps to focus on the positives.

I have a mate, and I have an esteemed position on the council. I’m satisfied with that.”

“Are you?” I push.

“I am. I promise you I am.”

Kie slides his hands up my waist, bunching the fabric of my dress along the way. Then one of his hands slips down, quickly finding the hem of my dress and disappearing underneath. My breath hitches as his palm lands on my bare thigh.

“Are you excited to be our queen?” he asks, changing the subject.

His wandering hands are distracting, and it takes me a second to answer. “Yes,” I admit. “I’m nervous, but I want people to know who I am to you.”

Kie kisses my temple, his fingers trailing between my thighs.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I’m rarely afforded the opportunity to be alone with you. Mason is incessant.” Kie shrugs. “I’m taking advantage.”

My skin is on fire. I blame the mate bond. It draws me to Kie and Mason, turning me into putty whenever they look in my direction.

I spread my legs, inviting Kie to continue.

“Do you like it when I take control?” he asks.

Yes. No. I don’t know. Why does it matter?

It’s hard to think when he’s ghosting the tips of his fingers over my slit, teasing me with the promise of his touch. I spread my legs further, but he doesn’t take the bait. It’s frustrating. Mason would’ve been inside me the moment I spread my legs. He would’ve had me bent over within seconds.

“Do you like it?” he repeats.

I groan. “Why?”

Kie circles my clit, his lips curling where they press against my temple. “Abby…” He’s taunting me. “Tell me or I’ll stop and call the diction coach back inside.”

I panic. “Yes! I like it.”

Kie hums, pushing my underwear aside and slipping a finger inside me.

He’s gentle, moving slowly. I’m still sore from last night, and he seems to sense that as he presses his palm against my clit.

I’ve never particularly enjoyed being fingered, but it’s good with Kie.

Mason, too. They know what pace to go and what pressure to use.

“Take out my cock,” Kie orders.

My hands shake as I reach behind myself, scrambling to find his zipper and undo his pants. Mason’s going to be pissed when he realizes what Kie and I did while he was babysitting my family. I’m excited.

Kie’s already hard, and he hisses as I finally get a hand wrapped around him. Despite his calm exterior, he’s aching for me. His length tells me everything he doesn’t .

“Bend forward.” I do as instructed, bending at the waist. Kie pulls his finger out. “Good. Put me inside you.”

He bends his knees, lowering himself, and I guide him toward my entrance. It takes a bit of maneuvering, and I quickly realize this angle isn’t going to work. I’m a little too short, and Kie’s a little too tall.

“Shit.” Kie huffs, pulling me toward the couch. “Don’t tell Mason about that.”

Kie sits, pulling me down with him. My back presses against his chest, and I lean against him before continuing. We both sigh when he finally slips inside. Kie’s thick, and it takes a second to adjust to the stretch.

“Fuck,” Kie groans. “I want to be inside you always.”

He tightens his grip on my hips, silently urging me to rock. I’m more than happy to, desperate for the pleasure his touch brings. The pressure is building with every drag of his cock, and I know it won’t take long to cum. I suspect it never will with Kie.

“You’re mine,” I say. “This is mine.”

Kie twitches underneath me. “I’m all yours. Always yours.” He gasps. “Always yours.”

My thighs are shaking, and I grab Kie’s arms as my pleasure peaks. My orgasm hits me like a train, and I let out a silent scream as I come undone. Kie takes over, and low, filthy moans pour from his throat as he thrusts deep into me and stills, finding his release.

Kie drops his forehead against my back. “Mason’s going to be pissed.”

I shrug. “He’ll be fine.”

Mason’s grouchy and possessive, but I don’t honestly think he’ll mind.

He’s always known he’d share a mate with Kie, and he doesn’t seem particularly jealous of the faerie.

I think, especially as our relationship grows and sex begins to feel a bit less novel, he won’t bat an eye when I enter a room smelling of Kie.

“Put your hand out,” Kie orders. “Palm up.”

I obey, and Kie grabs my wrist. His grip is light, and I gulp as he traces his finger over the spot where I’m expected to cut myself. I’m trying not to think about it, and he’s not helping.

“I’m going to use my magic to piece your skin together,” he says. “And I’ll hold it together, molecule by molecule, until it’s healed. I promise.”

He shouldn’t. I know how much that drains him, and it’s a waste of his energy. I’m not looking forward to cutting my palm, but it won’t kill me. I’ve experienced worse—my knees, for example. They’re covered in scars from my time in Redstall Forest.

One look at Kie’s stern expression tells me he’s unwilling to change his mind.

I flush, deciding not to argue. “Thank you.”