Page 58 of The Shattered Kingdom
The bedroom light is shut off, and I settle as best I can. I already know I won’t find sleep, but shutting my eyes and trying is better than nothing. Kie and Mason toss and turn, their sheets rustling as they move around.
What does my family think happened to me? I haven’t spent nearly as much time thinking about them as I should, maybe because none of this seems real. There’s been a lingering feeling that all of this is fake, that I’m going to wake up in bed to discover I’ve been dreaming. That’s what I hoped would happen whiletraveling through the forest. I must’ve pinched myself a million times trying to wake up.
“Abby?”
My mattress dips as Kie sits on the edge of my bed, his vibrant violet eyes practically shining in the dark. What’s with these men welcoming themselves to my bed? Kie scoots closer, his movements silent and cautious.
I peer around him, eyeing the shifter on the floor. Mason lies on his stomach, his face buried into his pillow. I doubt he’s sleeping, but he pretends.
Kie’s significantly more reserved than the shifter, and we haven’t spent any meaningful time together since returning from the Redstall Forest. He’s practically a stranger now. I don’t recognize the man I traveled through the forest with. That Kie was easygoing and loud, almost to the point of being annoying. This one is pensive and quiet, constantly focused on completing the next task.
If I’m honest with myself, I’m not even sure he’s interested in me. Not the way Mason is. Mason’s obsessed with everything I do, but Kie doesn’t show much emotion. It’s the only reason I’m not pushing him away right now. This is the most he’s given me, and I’m curious.
Kie pulls my comforter to my waist. I’m still wearing his shirt, and his lips twitch as he eyes the material. It’s almost a smile, and I swallow past the lump in my throat as he begins lifting the fabric up my torso, exposing my stomach. He pauses below my breasts.
“May I?” he asks.
I hesitate, then nod. Kie raises my shirt over my chest, then places his palm over my heart. His bare fingers curl into my skin, and I suppress a shiver. Several heartbeats pass before he drops his hand into his lap, and I pull my shirt back down.
“I didn’t want to trigger our bond,” he admits.
I’ve gathered as much.
“You don’t trust me,” he continues. “I see how you’re fighting the bond with Mason, and I didn’t want to add to that. I wanted to build trust between us first, maybe even become friends, before touching.”
Kie pulls the bedsheets back up my torso, covering me.
“I’m sorry I spoke to Jackie privately,” he says. “You don’t seem too upset, but it was inappropriate. The faeries would view it as a form of infidelity.”
I shrug. “I don’t like Jackie, but I dislike being murdered even more.”
I’m pleased they were able to narrow down the list of suspects, and I hope he has answers soon.
Kie cracks a half smile. “You’re supposed to be angry with me.”
“I am,” I admit. “Just not about that.”
I lick my lips, working up the courage to ask a question I really want an answer to. There’s a good chance Kie’s response will hurt my feelings, but I need to know.
“Are you disappointed to have a human as your mate?”
Kie’s answer is immediate. “I’m not disappointed—not even close. You being human doesn’t bother me in the slightest, just like I’m not bothered that Mason is a shifter. It makes you who you are.” He taps his fingers against my mattress. “I just wish we’d met under better circumstances.”
He climbs off my bed and returns to his mattress. I stare at where he sat, ruminating over his words, before lying back down. I wish that, too.
Chapter Twenty-Two
MASON
ABBY SITS ON the couch, her knees tucked into her chest as she stares into the fireplace. She’s been catatonic for the better part of the morning, pretty much from the moment she woke up. She gasped as she jolted upright in bed, her sudden movements putting Kie and me on high alert.
She refuses to tell me what she dreams about, but it’s weighing heavily on her.
I fear it was about me or Kie, about the bonds she’s made more than apparent she doesn’t want. Or maybe it was about Lillian. Or possibly Jackie. It could also be about the attempted murder. Or maybe about her family. There are too many options.
Kie stands in the kitchen. He’s staring at the counter, which he’s been doing for the past forty-five minutes. Things never used to be this awkward between us. I want to crawl out of my skin and disappear.
“You should relocate to my mother’s office today,” Kie says, breaking the silence.
