Page 80 of The Shattered Kingdom
The realization hurts more than I’d care to admit, and it urges me to join him and Kie in the bathroom. Mason’s indeed in the shower, his back facing me as he angrily scrubs at his skin.
Kie’s in front of the sink, his hands pressed against the marble and his head hanging between his shoulders. He straightens up as I step into the room, and he runs a hand towel under the faucetbefore spinning toward me.
“Here,” he says, handing it over. “You can shower after Mason, but this should hold you over while he finishes. I’m going to bring in my mattress.”
He moves to walk past me, but I grab his bicep, stopping his retreat.
Chapter Thirty
ABBY
KIE STARES DOWN at me. His gaze is intense and heavy—a weighted vest. I resist the urge to shrink into myself as I tighten my grip on his bicep.
Say something, Abby. Anything.
“I—” I start.
I don’t know what to say. I’m not so mad anymore. They regret how they treated me, and while I have every right to hold it over their heads for the rest of our lives, I don’t want to. Being angry is hard work, and it’s exhausting. I’m denying myself mates, something I really do want, and it’s making us all miserable. At this point, I’m punishing myself just as much as I’m punishing them.
They’ve earned a second chance.
I’m not in love with either of them, but they deserve the opportunity to earn my love.
Kie sucks his lips into his mouth, his patience waning. I suspect he knows what I want to say, but he isn’t going to help me get the words out. I almost wish he would. It would make this easier.
My attention shifts to Mason. He’s still showering, his headbowed as he scrubs the remnants of sex off himself. I’m sure he’s listening to me and Kie, though. He’s always listening.
“I—” I start again.
I fall short, and Kie pulls his arm out of my hand. He’s not rough, but I feel like I’ve been slapped as he walks out of the room, continuing as if I hadn’t stopped him.
Mason finishes showering, and he avoids eye contact as he dries off and wraps a towel around himself. Then he walks out of the room, leaving me alone. I drag my fingers through my hair, tugging on the strands as I swallow a frustrated scream.
I’m making this more complicated than it needs to be.
I hurry to shower, hoping it will clear my mind. It doesn’t work, not that I honestly expected it to. I’m just as tongue-tied when I return to Mason’s bedroom, if not more.
Two mattresses have been dragged into the room. They’re squished next to one another, and Kie and Mason are lounging on them. They take turns flipping through a stack of papers, the pair looking more like two best friends preparing for a sleepover than two royals.
The sight warms my heart.
“You can have Mason’s bed,” Kie says.
Mason looks up as I pull open his wardrobe and dig out some clothing, his narrowed, green eyes following my every move. It’s not helping my nerves, and I do my best to ignore it as I organize my thoughts.
I need to address what was said. No more avoiding it.
“I would like you two to meet my family,” I start. “You offered once to bring them here, and I think that would be best. They must be worried sick about me, and they’ll want to meet the men I’m in a relationship with.”
They might not want to stay, but they’ll at least want to visit. They’ll want to see that I’m healthy and safe. Most importantly,they’ll want to see that I’m not dead.
Kie finally looks up.
I continue. “Mates don’t exist in the human realm, and it’s not considered appropriate for a woman to be in a relationship with multiple men, or vice versa. You should probably know that going into this.”
Mason quirks a brow. “Arewe in a relationship, Abby?”
“Yes.” I bob my head. “Yes. I believe we are.”
