Masked Prince (Fated Royals 2) - Page 3

So, I settled for being able to see her, watch her, obsess over her. Men a hell of a lot wiser than me say that the thing we want most is whatever we can’t have. For me, that was Iris. Fucking always.

Now as I stood watching, Iris looked worried as she smoothed the flank of the cow beside her. Though I couldn’t hear what she said, it was obvious she was trying to comfort the beast, which was heavy and distressed with trying to birth a calf. I crouched behind a stack of round bales and alfalfa, watching her every move. Whenever I was near her, my cock ached so bad I thought my fucking balls would burst.

There were times I hated her, just a little, for making me so goddamned needy; there were times I wanted to punish her for being so fucking perfect.

Iris crouched beside the animal, feeling its belly. As soon as she did, the cow roared in pain, staggered, and went down, all four legs buckling beneath her. Iris screamed before I even realized what had happened. She had gotten pinned beneath the cow, who lay prone on her side, groaning into the mud.

Fuck. I was up out of my crouch instinctively, already moving to go help her. But I stopped myself. Or my fucking shame did.

For the first time in my life, I hesitated before going to help someone who was clearly in need. I wanted to help her—I needed to help her. She was mine, after all. But if I showed myself to her, if she saw my face, I fucking knew what I’d see: pity, horror and fear.

And the idea of seeing any of that from her? Fuck, no.

So, I scanned the farmyard for anyone else who could help her, any half-useful piece of shit farmhand who could go to her aid. But there wasn’t a goddamned soul anywhere.

The mental conflict only lasted a few seconds. I knew I would go to her. I knew I would help her.

Consequences be damned.

I knew I would save her. Fate was there, pushing me, and deep down I knew it was just what I needed.

Chapter 2

Iris

I lay face-up in the muck, struggling to get free from under my sweetest old heifer, Nellie. Her pregnancy had been difficult from the start, and I’d worried that the calving would be especially hard. I was right.

When she faltered, and finally lost the struggle to stay upright, she’d pinned me beneath her, and now a zinging bolt of pain shot up from my lower leg. I tried to squirm free, but it would have been impossible even with just her weight—the combined weight of her and the calf inside her were much too heavy for me to budge. I tried to push her off me, summoning every ounce of strength I had. I squirmed in pain as I tried to wiggle my injured leg. But she didn’t even shift.

“Nellie.” I gritted out through my teeth. “Just. Roll. A. Bit.” I pushed and she bellowed, but I was as stuck as ever. Deeper even. The mud sucked us both lower as I struggled.

I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky, trying my best to stay calm so as not to make Nellie panic. She shuddered with a contraction and I petted her side softly and patiently, telling her it was all okay and that we’d figure this out, while trying to come up with some sort of plan of how to do that.

Many people said that cows were the stupidest of all the animals, but I had worked with them all my life and I knew that wasn’t true at all. They were kind, simple creatures, who felt pain and worry just as we did.

Nellie had begun to thrash in the mud, every movement of her massive body causing my leg to hurt more and more. I feared—even suspected—that my leg was broken. But no matter how much I was hurting, it was no use crying out for help.

It was market day, and that meant we had even fewer passersby on the road than usual. I could scream and scream until I was hoarse, but nobody would come and I would only frighten Nellie more. The last thing I needed was to create more panic when she was looking to me for calm.

Of course, my father should have been there, and I should have been in the village selling our wares. But instead of tending to the work that was rightfully his, he’d wandered off two days earlier and was now probably three towns over and three-sheets to the wind. Best to save my energy and keep my focus on getting myself out of this mess.

I comforted Nellie, hoping she’d roll onto her other side in her own time. Laying there, helpless and nearly crushed, I silently cursed my father for putting me in this situation, then chided myself for blaming him.

Tags: Dani Wyatt Fated Royals Romance
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