Page 57 of The Shattered Kingdom
“…And?” I ask.
Kie hesitates. “And I said you weren’t our mate. I told heryour connection to Lillian makes you valuable and that Mason kissed you because he’s a whore and you’re available.”
Mason’s smile falls, but I have a feeling it has little to do with Kie calling him a whore.
Kie ignores the angry shifter. “I’m sorry, Abby. I didn’t—” He stops to collect his thoughts before continuing. “I’m sorry.”
I wait for him to elaborate further, but he doesn’t. He’s not trying to make excuses or defend his actions, which I surprisingly admire. If I’m honest with myself, I don’t mind what Kie said. If people are going to try to kill me off nothing more than assumptions, I don’t want to know what they’ll do when they have confirmations.
Mason rises, finally putting his cock away, and approaches Kie. I’m not interested in their dick-measuring contest, and I shove my hair out of my face before spinning around and leaving the room. I need to shower.
Two pairs of footfalls follow me into the hallway bathroom.
“Go away.”
Two pairs of footfalls retreat from the hallway bathroom, and the door shuts quietly behind me.
Mason’s cum covers my inner thighs, and I want it gone. Intimacy was a good distraction from today’s attempted murder, but the moment is over and I’ve been pulled back into reality. There’s a small pile of clothing sitting on the counter by the time I finish showering. Men’s clothing I deduce belongs to Kie. I’m ready to own some things of my own.
They supply me with women’s clothing every morning, but I want a wardrobe to choose from. I’d like to pick my daily outfits, not rely on whatever they’ve decided I should wear.
Kie’s waiting for me outside the bathroom door. “Mason and I will bring our mattresses into your bedroom and sleep on the floor tonight.”
I frown. “That seems unnecessary.”
“It’s far from unnecessary,” Mason says, stepping out of his bedroom. His hair is wet, and he’s in fresh clothing. “We don’t know who tried to harm you, and we intend to stay close until we do.”
“Why me?” I ask. “It’syouthey don’t like, so why kill me?”
Kie swallows. “We can’t survive without you. At least not in any meaningful way. We wouldn’t be fit to lead, and we’d be stripped of our titles. Killing you is the easiest way to remove Mason and me from power.”
“But nobody knows I’m your mate,” I point out.
“We’ve not confirmed anything, but I’m sure some people assume,” Kie says. “Mason publicly touched you after my mother’s murder, but it’s been largely overlooked. There’s a possibility somebody is reading into that, or maybe Lill said something before leaving.”
Was Lill involved? Mason and Kie probably think she was. I’m trying hard not to think about it. For years, it’s been her and me against the world. When we were fourteen, she pushed my boyfriend to the ground and kicked out his knee because he tried flirting with her. I struggle to believe she would knowingly steal my mates. Or send an assassin after me.
She’s not a bad person.
I walk into my bedroom, and Kie and Mason take turns dragging in their mattresses. I partially thought they were joking, and I sit in the center of my bed while they get situated. My bed is large enough to fit the three of us, but I don’t invite them to share.
The bond is urging me to. It’s forcing me to fantasize about sleeping with both of them wrapped around me, but I fight it.
Their mattresses barely fit in my room, and I purse my lips as Mason and Kie struggle to lay them flat beside one another.
“Why don’t you two share?” I eventually ask. Theirmattresses are comically large, and there’s more than enough room for them to squeeze together on one.
Mason shoots me a sideways look. “Because I don’t want to share a bed with Kie.”
“Have you two truly never slept together?” They’ve denied it several times, but I’ve always suspected. I gesture between them. “It’s entirely platonic?”
Mason rolls his eyes. He looks mildly annoyed, which I’m choosing to believe isn’t because of me. “Yes, Abby.” He huffs. “It’s entirely platonic. I’ve never had sex with Kie, nor do I want to.”
I hum, dropping the subject. I’m curious if they’ve ever shared a woman, but I’m not mentally prepared for that answer.
There are several annoyed grunts and muffled curses until they get their mattresses situated, conveniently in a position that has Mason pressed up against the side of my bed. I’m sure it isn’t accidental, and I debate threatening him to stay away before ultimately deciding against it. I don’t think he’ll try to sneak into my bed after the rejection he faced last time. Plus, a small, minuscule part of me wants him close.
I’m terrified of the faeries trying to kill me again, and I trust Mason to keep me safe. He’s big and scary, and he likes to kill people.
