Page 94 of The Cursed Kingdom

Abby tugs her undergarments and shirt back into place before sticking her hand down the front of her leggings. I cock my head to the side, watching intently as she scrubs between her thighs. I was hoping she’d remove her bottoms to clean herself.

Mason makes a quiet, disappointed noise as he seems to realize she intends to remain clothed from the waist down. He’s been protective of her since finding her half-dead in the rain, and he’s not making many attempts to hide it—not that he could if he wanted to.

His animal form vibrating on top of her for several hours was a dead giveaway to his emotions. He likes her, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

Abby is bothersome and unprepared for this world, but she has spirit. She’s the first woman to snap at Mason, even though she reeks of fear as she does so, and she’s openly disinterested in him. He likes that.

I hope it doesn’t become an issue when we arrive at the portal. Mason’s never been one to hold back, and he’s always been ruled by his emotions. It makes him especially dangerous when he’s angry, and it makes him damn-near impossible to control in situations as touchy as this.

His shifter genes are strong, and no amount of time spent with the faeries has eased those instincts out of him.

“I’ll need to meet with my father upon our return to Bellmere,” Mason says, drawing my attention.

I pause, watching Abby remove her hand from her pants, before turning toward Mason.

He’s been wanting to meet with his father for years, a desire he’s never kept a secret from me. My mother disapproves of his need for closure, but I’ve never judged him for it. I imagine I’d feel something similar if I were in his position.

Once I’m crowned, my mother will no longer be in a position to turn down Mason’s many requests to meet with his father. Assuming all goes well with Zaha, I’m set to be crowned three days after our return.

I’ll be king, as will Mason.

He’ll be expected to rule by my side, a situation that greatly upsets my people, and nobody will be able to tell him whom he can and can’t meet with. Itechnicallycould, but I have no reason to.

Mason’s a grown man, and I’m uninterested in policing his relationships. I have enough to deal with already.

I lick my lips. “I imagine he won’t be happy to discover the dead shifters you left scattered throughout the forest.”

Mason shrugs. “They shouldn’t have tried to kill me. Besides, I like to think he’d be even more upset to discovermydead body in the forest.”

I’m not so sure about that, but I keep that thought to myself.

Abby moves, heading toward shore. Her movements are clunky and slow but still so full of anger. I’m continually impressed with her ability to hold her rage. It’s refreshing to be so outwardly hated, and I see why Mason has taken a liking to her.

They have a lot in common when it comes to their desire for violence and revenge.

Water pours off Abby’s clothes as she climbs up the bank and makes her way to her backpack. I watch the way her hips move. Mason seems to be doing the same.

“I want to see her tits again,” he says.

I press my lips together, debating whether I want to acknowledge what he’s just said, before giving a curt nod. I suppose I wouldn’t mind seeing them again. Just because I can’t touch bare skin doesn’t mean I can’t admire it—and I sure like to admire it.

It’s common knowledge that I prefer women naked when I’m with them. I’m protected as long as I remain clothed and cover my cock. Mason’s rumored to prefer the more efficient approach of lifting a woman’s skirts and taking them from behind, but that’s not as fun.

“I want to bite them,” Mason continues.

Those are dangerous thoughts, and I shoot him a sideways glance before shaking my head and making my way to shore. He needs to keep his head on straight.

Abby attempts to be sly in her glances at me, but I notice how her pupils continually dart in my direction. Her face turns red,too, which I find more endearing than I should. Are all humans this uncomfortable with nudity?

I grab Mason’s and my clothing before returning to the water and scrubbing them clean. What? Of course she can.

Mason remains where he is, still watching Abby.

She very clearly notices, as she does a poor job pretending she doesn’t. I have half a mind to tell Mason to leave her alone, but I have a feeling that won’t go over well. He’ll argue with me, which will only make her more uncomfortable.

The noble ladies back in Bellmere wouldkillto get this amount of attention from Mason.

When he finally exits the water several minutes later, his eyebrows are pinched and his lips pursed. He’s upset.

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