Page 51 of The Shattered Kingdom
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 itnow, 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 grimaceas I grab the muscle and shove it back into place.
“Stop that,” I hiss.
