Chapter 10

10

M ikhail's eyelids fluttered open, heavy as lead curtains. Pale morning light seeped through the cracks in his blinds, painting stripes across his rumpled bedsheets. His head throbbed, a dull ache pulsing behind his temples. The night had been an endless cycle of tossing and turning, his mind a whirlwind of anxious thoughts that refused to quiet.

With a groan, he pushed himself up, his muscles protesting every movement. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet as he stumbled towards the bathroom, the cool air raising goosebumps on his bare skin. He flicked on the light, wincing at the sudden brightness, and caught a glimpse of his haggard reflection in the mirror—dark circles under his eyes, hair sticking up at odd angles.

“I am such a catch,” he told his reflection in disgust. “Not that I want to be a catch,” he then said sternly, shaking a finger at himself.

He quickly brushed his teeth before flicking the taps on behind him. The shower hissed to life, steam billowing up and over the glass. He stepped in and promptly let out a long sigh as hot water cascaded over his body. Tension slowly melted away, and his mind began to wander.

The shower had always been a place for mental gymnastics for him. Some of his most intricate laws had been created within the expansive shower stall. Three glass walls rose to the ceiling, giving a panoramic view of the bathroom. The floor was tiled with white and grey marble, while the walls were a mesmerising mosaic of blue and green tiles, creating a tranquil atmosphere. The shower head itself was a large, luxurious rainfall. Because the meeting had been derailed the day before, he faced the daunting task of rescheduling as soon as he stepped out of the shower.

He groaned, resting his forehead against the tiled wall. He didn’t want to deal with the inevitable questions and the disappointed looks. But they needed to discuss their next steps, and without a meeting of minds, they would remain floundering where Z was concerned. But how was he supposed to act around Jinx? Should he treat her like a subject, a distant acquaintance, or a friend? The possibilities swirled in his mind, making it difficult for him to focus on anything else. Maybe he should ignore her?

“Yeah, do that. And have Sabre to deal with,” he muttered, lathering his body with his favourite soap.

What he really wanted to do was make sure she was okay. Was her night as restless as his own? A part of him hoped so. He quickly scrubbed his body, telling himself he was a selfish jerk who didn’t deserve someone as beautiful as Jinx. And just like that, her lovely smile popped into his brain. Her dimpled cheeks were swiftly followed by images of the gentle curve of her neck and her pert behind.

His breath quickened as he recalled the softness of her skin where he had touched her, not to mention the sizzling electricity that sparked between them. Unbidden, his hand slid down his chest, droplets of water trailing in its wake. He imagined her delicate fingers in place of his own, tracing the contours of his six-pack. A low groan escaped his lips as his arousal grew. Steam swirled around him, heightening his senses.

When his hand met his pubic hair, he hesitated. He felt skeevy as hell and really damned hypocritical. But he couldn't help it. Thoughts of her touch, her scent, her smile, even her hair, all of it sent his body into a frenzy. He felt like one big walking erection. It wasn’t like he could act on his thoughts for real, so would it be so terrible to indulge in a fantasy or two in the privacy of his own shower?

He stuck his dripping head out of the stall so he could peer around his empty bathroom. “Hello?” he called. “Is there anybody here to judge me for yanking on my dick to thoughts of a weretiger one-fifth my age and whom my guardian loves like a sister?” He cupped his ear, listening hard. “No? Okay then.”

He pulled his head back in and immediately braced one hand against the slick tile wall. “It doesn’t count if it’s fast,” he told himself as he grabbed his hard shaft, squeezing it at the base.

Images of Jinx filled his mind—how her small but perfect breasts would press against his chest, the hard tips rubbing erotically against his naked skin as she sank to her knees in front of him. Her lips would be so soft as they pressed against his, and her fingers would tangle in his hair as she moaned his name.

The sound of his palm vigorously working his dick could be heard over the falling water, and he’d never been so grateful that Sabre declined to stay in the room next to his in favour of Brax’s. When fantasy-Jinx swallowed his cock, gagging prettily with tears of lust leaking from the corners of her eyes, he let out a guttural roar. His release bordered on violent, painting the tiles white as his body trembled and he rode out the waves of pleasure.

He caught his breath, leaning against the glass for support. “So fast it almost didn’t happen,” he assured himself. He finished showering and dressed, eager to distance himself from fantasy-Jinx and the fresh guilt that gnawed at him.

He’d only just added some bread to the toaster when there was a knock on the door. He contemplated not answering. He didn’t want company when he was still all flushed and tingly. What if they realised that he’d had a self-induced orgasm just minutes before? But his upbringing won out, and he squared his shoulders, opening the door to reveal Marius. Marius was one of the loyal guards who had been with him before his ‘death’ and throughout the intervening months with the rebels.

“Your guests are here,” the werewolf said.

Mikhail frowned. “What guests?”

“Your brother and his guardian. The strange zombie man and the young vampire,” Marius listed off. “And the weretiger.”

“Don’t forget me, the famous angel assassin, sent to save the world and make it a better place,” Sabre said, breezing past Marius.

A muscle ticked in Marius’s jaw as he tracked Sabre’s movements. “And the assassin.”

“My guardian,” Mikhail corrected firmly. He wouldn’t tolerate any disrespect towards Sabre, no matter who it was from. Sabre and his rebels had been undergoing a period of adjustment since his return. His comrades had taken responsibility for his safety while he was away. And although he knew Sabre wasn’t exactly jealous of them, she did resent the need for them. Mikhail didn’t blame her.

“Of course, My King,” Marius said, bowing slightly.

“Kiss arse,” Sabre muttered to Marius.

When Mikhail glared at her, she merely smiled toothily back. “Thank you, Marius,” Mikhail said, opening the door wider for the rest of his unexpected guests. When Jinx walked past him, he held his breath. The last thing he needed was another erection. “What are you all doing here?”

“The little issue of our murderous brother,” Brax answered dryly, grabbing the toast when it popped and buttering it. “Where’s the rest of the food?”

“There is no rest,” Mikhail replied. He strode over to Brax, plucking the toast from his hand and taking a huge bite.

Brax scowled at him. “That was mine.”

Mikhail chewed loudly, shoving half the toast into his mouth. “It was never yours. You weren’t invited.” His words were muffled, and crumbs flew past his lips, landing on the floor and Brax.

Brax stared at the wet crumbs on his sleeve in horror. “You are fucking disgusting.”

When he tried to wipe them on Mikhail, Mikhail dodged easily, laughing and spraying more crumbs. Only when he bumped into Jinx did he realise his shenanigans were being witnessed by his rejected mate, her best friends, and two angels. “He started it,” was all he could think to say, pointing at Brax.

“Real mature,” his brother shouted casually from across the room. He held up Mikhail’s loaf of bread. “Anyone want toast?”

Sabre was the only one to say yes. As she walked to Brax, she smiled warmly at Mikhail. “You two really are brothers, huh?”

“Unfortunately,” Mikhail replied. He looked at the others. “Go ahead. Get toast. I can’t get a bigger spread sent here, sorry. The kitchens don’t know I’m alive yet.”

“That’s okay,” Eric said. “I’m not hungry.”

“Me either,” Jinx echoed quietly.

“I only eat organs or flesh,” Gage chimed in. “I don’t suppose you have any of that handy?”

“I can gut Brax for you. I’m sure his liver is tasty,” Mikhail said, sharing a grin with Gage.

“Tempting,” Gage replied, his dark eyes glinting. “But I’m okay.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.” He offered his hand in welcome. “It’s nice to see you again, Gage. You too, Eric,” he said, glancing surreptitiously at Jinx. She looked damn good. Even better than she had in his fantasies.

Eric rocked back on his heels, looking around the room. “Sorry for gate-crashing. Sabre said you wouldn’t mind.”

Mikhail smiled, hoping to put the young vampire at ease. He hadn’t invited Eric yesterday, but he was here now . Mikhail was nothing if not polite. “Sabre was right. I know you’ve been instrumental in getting us this far. Thank you. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better.”

“You are?” Eric practically squeaked.

Mikhail’s brow furrowed when Eric seemed to pale. “Of course.”

Eric smiled, his body twitching nervously. “Uh, great.”

Assuming Eric was nervous to be around him, he moved his attention to Jinx. Unfortunately, that made Mikhail nervous. “I wasn’t expecting to see you,” were the first words out of his mouth.

Jinx raised a solo brow. “And why is that? This is a family meeting. I’m family.”

“Of course you are. I just …” Mikhail looked around, seeking help and finding none. Brax and Sabre were too busy playing kissy-face, Draven was frowning at his phone, and Eric and Gage were observing them keenly.

“You thought I’d be locked in my room licking my wounds from your rejection,” Jinx supplied dryly. “Sorry to disappoint you, but that really isn’t my vibe.”

Mikhail began to sweat. What was that saying? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Had he been na?ve to believe they’d parted on good terms? That they had reached a mutual understanding? “I’m not disappointed. I don’t want you to be upset. That’s the last thing I want,” he assured her.

“Great. Because I’m not,” Jinx said.

“Great,” Mikhail echoed.

“Great,” Jinx repeated.

They stood staring at each other, mostly because Mikhail couldn’t force his feet to move. Even though she was serving his ego up on a platter, he wanted to drink in her presence. Everything about her called to him, including her bold, sassy side. Someone cleared their throat loudly, and he pulled his gaze away from Jinx’s, where it had been trapped unknowingly.

How long have I been standing here staring into her eyes like a love-sick fool? he wondered.

“And I thought you two were awkward when you were getting together,” Draven stated, gesturing between Brax and Sabre.

“We’re not getting together,” Mikhail said instantly. He’d have to be blind not to notice the way Jinx flinched from his words. He cursed himself silently. Was he destined to hurt his fated mate every time he opened his mouth? Before he could apologise, Jinx spoke.

“That’s right. We’re not.”

Now, it was his turn to flinch. The words fell onto his senses like ice—sharp, cold, and painful. He spun around and walked to the kitchen, fiddling with the toaster to give his hands something to do. He knew Jinx followed; he could feel her presence at his back. But he didn’t say anything.

“Mikhail …”

His eyes fluttered closed upon hearing his name on her lips. Will my body always react to her this way? he wondered. His hand fisted, denting the toaster and embarrassing the hell out of him. Jinx reached around, removing the appliance from his hand. When he opened his eyes, he saw amusement on her face.

“I’m sure you can buff this out,” she told him cheekily.

Mikhail pursed his lips. “It was a family heirloom.”

Jinx looked alarmed. “Is it really? Damn, I’m sorry.”

Mikhail chuckled. “I’m kidding. It’s just a toaster.”

“Phew.” Jinx wiped imaginary sweat from her forehead. She stared at the floor for a moment before looking back up. “Seriously, I’m sorry for being snippy with you. Defence mechanism.”

“It’s okay,” he reassured her quickly. He didn’t blame her one bit.

“It’s really not,” Jinx insisted. “We’re going to have to find a way to live with each other. Sabre is your guardian, and she’s my best friend. She’s my family. I’m not giving her up. Even if it means I’m in discomfort every day of my life. She’s my tribe.”

Mikhail cocked his head to the side curiously. “Your tribe?”

“You know how wolves have a pack? Well, tigers have a tribe. Mine started small with just Sabre and Gage, but it’s recently expanded with Eric, Brax, and Draven.” She shrugged, looking adorably perplexed. “Hell, my tiger has even claimed Phaedra and Mercy now. She would hunt down anyone who hurt them.”

Mikhail tensed. “Claimed?” It sounded more like a growl than an actual word.

Jinx gazed at him, surprised by his reaction. But then understanding dawned on her face. “Not in a romantic sense. It's natural for tigers to form bonds with others, to protect and provide. You know, for security and, well, happiness.”

Mikhail pushed down the possessive beast riding his soul, forcing himself to think rationally. It was rare for werecreatures to be solitary; most craved a family unit for structure. He knew that. Why would Jinx be any different? “Of course.”

“Right,” Jinx stated. “So, I promise to try harder at our truce thing.”

“How about we don’t call it a truce? We’re not enemies,” Mikhail asserted. “Instead, we aim for friends.”

Jinx sighed, her shoulders sagging. “I would like that.”

Mikhail held his breath, searching her unique eyes for the truth. And finding it. “Thank the gods.”

“You really want to be friends?” Jinx looked surprised.

Mikhail nodded enthusiastically. “Very much. Jinx … I wish things could be different. I truly do.”

“I believe you,” she promised him. She bit her bottom lip, unknowingly tempting him before meeting his eyes again. “I’m going to be okay.”

“Yes,” Mikhail acknowledged. “You will be.” He knew it was true. But what about me? he thought.

After listening to his brother complain about the toaster no longer working, they all sat in Mikhail’s living room. His private quarters were a far cry from formal. Because he spent so much time in the public eye, exuding impeccable manners and diplomacy, he craved comfort in his home. Much like Brax, he’d kept the same set of rooms he’d had since he turned eighteen. They consisted of a large living room, three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a formal study, and a kitchenette that offered seating at an island. He was a very poor cook, and his meals were provided to him daily from the kitchens other than some staple items he kept in his fridge and small pantry.

He made sure to take a seat in one of the two recliners. Gage snagged the other and the other four spread themselves out on his huge sectional. When Eric sat close to Jinx, so close that their thighs touched, Mikhail pointedly looked away.

“Wow, this leather is like butter,” Eric murmured, smoothing his hand over the surface of the lounge.

“Comfy, right?” Mikhail agreed with a smile. He looked around, hoping for some stupid reason that Jinx liked what she saw.

He liked to think his living room exuded an air of refined masculinity and understated luxury. The super soft leather sectional in rich cognac dominated one side of the space, its surface adorned with textured cushions in charcoal and deep forest green shades. Opposite, a sleek, massive TV hung on the exposed brick wall, flanked by floating shelves displaying photos and treasures.

A handcrafted coffee table anchored the seating area, its surface messily arranged with a rare first-edition Hemingway, a crystal tumbler, and a small potted fiddle-leaf plant. Underfoot, a hand-knotted warlock rug in muted earth tones added warmth to the polished floors. The two matching recliners took up the remainder of the space.

“It's comfy because it’s made from unicorn hide,” Sabre revealed, practically sitting in Brax’s lap.

Eric looked appalled. He immediately jumped to his feet. “Unicorn? This is made from dead unicorns?”

“Would it be better if it was made from dead cows? Or dead goats?” Sabre questioned, looking amused.

Eric’s brow wrinkled in thought, and he sat back down hesitantly. Jinx took his hand, patting it comfortingly. Mikhail kept his mouth shut because the lounge was indeed made from unicorns. But it was ethically sourced. At least, that’s what Sabre had always told him. She’d given it to him as a gift years ago. Just as he opened his mouth to ask her where she got it from again, Sabre clapped her hands loudly.

“Enough about unicorns. Those fuckers are just as annoying as fairies. Let’s talk Zagan. Where is he? What is his ultimate plan? And when are you going to tell the world you’re back?”

“I have no idea where he is. I have no idea what his ultimate plan is. And I don’t know when I’m going to reclaim the throne,” Mikhail replied, ticking each point off his fingers one at a time. Saying it out loud made him feel sick to his stomach. Was the past year and change truly for nothing?

“Start with what we do know. Not what we don’t, ” Jinx said, sitting forward. She winked at him. “It’s less depressing that way.”

Mikhail chuckled, appreciating her very much. “Okay. We know Zagan has been killing direct descendants of the Forefathers.”

“Right. And that’s significant. It would be useful to get a list of the descendants. That way, we could get ahead of Z instead of chasing his tail,” Jinx pointed out. “At the moment, you’re being informed after a death or mass murder occurs.”

“A list would definitely be helpful,” Brax agreed. He looked at Sabre. “Would Lucifer have those records?”

“Lucifer?” Mikhail questioned. “As in the King of Hell?”

“Oh, haven’t you met Sabre’s best friend?” Brax snarked.

“He’s not my best friend. I’m a killing machine. Killing machines don’t have BFFs,” Sabre said, chin raised. Then she grinned and patted Brax on the cheek. “But I do love it when you get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I know who you belong to. I’m also not that insecure,” Brax vowed. “What I am is territorial,” he corrected, his lower canines showing.

Sabre rolled her eyes, but there was a twinkle in them. “Whatever you say.”

Brax grunted, muttering, “Well, I say Hell’s angel is too charming for his own good.”

Sabre smirked. “You think he’s charming?”

Mikhail cleared his throat, interrupting their banter. “As fascinating as this is, can we get back to the issue at hand? Do you think he can help?” He knew his father had been on good terms with Lucifer, but he was yet to have an opportunity to work with the Devil himself.

“He’s certainly helped in the past. And he did say he was around when the seven species were founded,” Sabre offered. “I’ll ask him. But he’s kind of in the midst of his own problems right now.”

This was the first time Mikhail was hearing about any issues in Hell. “What’s going on?"

“There's been an unprecedented influx of human souls entering Hell. Far more than usual," Draven revealed.

“How many more are we talking about?” Mikhail asked.

“According to Lucifer, the numbers have tripled in the last month alone,” Sabre replied, her brow furrowing. “He's having trouble processing them all. The infrastructure of Hell wasn't designed to handle such a sudden increase.”

Mikhail's eyes widened. “Tripled? That's concerning, to say the least. Any idea what's causing it? Major Earth events like natural disasters or wars, perhaps?”

Sabre shook her head. “No. That's the problem. Lucifer's at a loss. There’s also the matter of souls that are going to the wrong place—down instead of up.”

“So, souls that are supposed to go to Heaven are going to Hell instead?” Gage asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“Yep,” Sabre confirmed. “Lucifer suspects that someone or something is disrupting the natural balance and diverting souls to Hell.”

The sudden increase in souls entering Hell was certainly concerning. Someone was playing with the natural order of life and death. Mikhail would bet his left nut that his baby brother was behind it. He just wished he knew why.

“Could Z be killing all these humans?” Jinx asked into the silence. “What if they’re all descended from the very first human?”

Mikhail straightened, staring at Jinx. “You’re very smart.”

Jinx’s mouth quirked. “Surprised?”

“Grateful,” Mikhail corrected. He shared a look with Sabre and his brother. “Humans are the wheelhouse of Heaven and Hell. Can you get Lucifer onto the human angle while you’re at it?”

“On it,” Sabre said, her thumbs moving at lightspeed as she texted. “Gage, how would you like a trip to Hell?”

Gage shrugged easily. “Sure. Why not? Luca’s a good guy.”

“Thanks. I’ll get Phaedra and Mercy to accompany you.” Sabre didn’t look up as she spoke, sending off message after message. “Mikhail, can you open a portal for them? No sense wasting time heading to one of the veils that open up near Luca’s house.”

“I would be happy to,” Mikhail replied. “As long as it’s safe.”

Sabre waved a hand. “It’s Hell. How unsafe can it be? Besides, Gage is already dead, Mercy is a pain demon, and Phaedra is a pixie, making her the most dangerous of the bunch. They can handle themselves.”

“You have a point,” Mikhail acknowledged, amused by Sabre’s eclectic found family. “Get the others here, and I’ll portal them in.” It felt good to have a semblance of a plan.

“What about Heaven?” Eric asked presently. “What does Heaven have to say about all of this?”

Draven sighed, looking resigned. “Not much. I’ve made a few trips up, given that Sabre refuses to go.” He shot Sabre an irritated look before looking apologetically at Mikhail. “You know what the gods are like.”

Mikhail blew out a frustrated breath. He did know what the gods were like. Being one of the few beings that could create metaphysical doorways anywhere in the universe, he’d checked out Heaven a few times. Many times, if he was being honest. Particularly when he was ‘Hound’. But the gods weren’t willing to help, and he couldn’t speak with just any soul up there. “That sounds about right.”

“They're still not willing to help?” Brax asked with a frown.

“When are they ever?” Mikhail answered dryly.

“Still, perhaps another attempt is needed. I’ll go,” Draven offered.

Mikhail shook his head. “No. I’ll go. But thank you. Perhaps I’ll have more luck.”

“Nooooo,” Sabre groaned, burying her head into Brax’s shoulder. “That means I have to go, too. And I don’t wanna.”

“You’re being childish,” Draven admonished. “Heaven is your birthplace.”

“Creation place,” Sabre corrected, glaring at Draven. “It’s where I was created , not born. And it’s full of holier-than-thou douchebags just like you. Also, why don’t you save some forehead for the rest of us.”

Draven slapped a hand over his forehead, feeling around frantically. “The proportions of my head are perfect.”

“Perfectly fugly,” Sabre shot back.

Mikhail ignored the bickering pair, focusing on Brax. “After I open the doorway to Hell, Sabre and I will take a trip to Heaven. We’ll reconvene to discuss our results later.”

“Why can’t I come?” Brax questioned, looking put out.

“Because you have royal duties to attend to,” Draven replied, shooting his charge a stern look. “The architect for the new town hall is scheduled to meet with you in thirty minutes.”

Brax looked incredulous. “Who gives a fuck about a new town hall?!”

“You do,” Draven declared. He stood up and straightened his pristine, pale blue button-down shirt. “Because you’re the King.”

Brax pointed at Mikhail. “He’s the King. I’m the General.”

Draven remained silent, staring at Brax. Mikhail covered his smile with his hand when Brax was the first to look away. He grumbled and swore under his breath but rose. Leaning down, he placed his palms flat against the lounge on either side of Sabre’s head, kissing her hard. Then he stood up and stormed over to Mikhail without a word, yanking on Mikhail’s hair. Hard.

“Hey!” Mikhail complained, swatting at Brax.

“This is all your fault. You better find answers before I blow my brains out,” Brax whined. “How you do this job day in and day out is beyond me.”

Mikhail shrugged, withholding comment. Although he loved his position in many ways, the weight of responsibility and the lack of freedom were often overwhelming. But he wasn’t allowed to say so; even if he did, it wouldn’t make a difference. Besides, he took immense satisfaction in the minutiae of rulership—poring over ledgers and decrees, carefully weighing the needs of his people and the resources at his disposal. He revelled in the intricacies of diplomacy, deftly navigating alliances and negotiations to further Purgatory’s interests. What made Brax suicidal gave Mikhail pleasure.

“It’s not forever,” Sabre soothed her mate. “Soon, Mikhail will be back on the throne, and you’ll be back with your Demon Horde.” She paused, clearly thinking. “What about the library? People go there to learn and shit, right?”

“Now that’s an idea,” Draven exclaimed enthusiastically. “Libraries have even been known to have books .”

Sabre recognised the sarcasm immediately. “Suck my balls, fuck-knuckle.”

Draven’s self-satisfied grin fell immediately.

“It’s a good idea,” Mikhail said before the angels drew blood. “The Library of Purgatory is extremely old, housing all sorts of records.”

“I can go to the library,” Jinx volunteered, surprising Mikhail. “I love books.”

“Jinx is great with research,” Gage stated, smiling proudly at the tiger shifter. “A real investigator.”

Mikhail figured it couldn’t hurt, so he agreed.

“I’ll join you,” Eric said quickly. “I love spending time with you.”

Jinx’s eyebrows shot up, and she looked surprised. After a moment, she replied, “I love spending time with you as well.”

“Phew,” Eric said, fanning himself and giving Jinx a wink. “You had me worried for a minute there.”

Mikhail narrowed his gaze on Eric, wondering what was going on. Was it his imagination, or did that wink look positively flirty? The warm blush staining Jinx’s cheeks told him he wasn’t mistaken, and he suppressed the urge to pluck Eric’s eyes from his head.

“Plus,” Eric continued, “I’m really familiar with the library. I used to hang out there a lot when I was living on the street. It’s a great place to get out of the rain or the freezing Purgatory winters. Sometimes, I’d spend the whole day there.” He paused, shooting Brax and Mikhail a worried look. “Uh, sorry. I know it’s not supposed to be used as a homeless shelter or anything. But …”

“Hey, relax,” Brax soothed, walking over to Eric and ruffling his hair. “Seeking shelter in the public library isn’t illegal. I’m glad you had somewhere safe to go.”

Mikhail watched the interaction with interest. He knew Brax really liked the young vampire and thought they had a nice friendship building. But it appeared to be more than that. There was warmth there and affection. The bond appeared almost brotherly. The thought made him feel some kind of way. Jealousy wasn’t the right word, nor was resentment. But he feared they were close. He and Brax already had a little brother. They didn’t need another one.

Sabre noticed his unease because she mouthed silently. “You okay?”

Mikhail nodded silently, and he was glad she didn’t push. He felt like shit for even entertaining such thoughts. The poor kid had just disclosed he used to hang out at the public library because he had nowhere else to go, and Mikhail was making it about himself.

“Brax is right,” Mikhail said, looking directly at Eric. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I’ll see that more resources are in place for those in need at the library. Let me know if you think of any other locations that would benefit from the same thing. You’ve got a unique perspective … unfortunately,” he added, feeling bad again.

“Wait, you're going to add resources to the library because I said it was a safe spot for me?” Eric asked in disbelief.

“Of course,” Mikhail replied calmly.

Eric frowned. “Just like that?”

“Yes,” Mikhail replied slowly, unsure what the issue was.

“Why?” Eric asked bluntly.

Brax leaned towards Eric and mock-whispered, “Because he’s the real King.”

Mikhail rolled his eyes, secretly pleased with his brother’s antics. “I haven’t figured out how a kingdom can be free of poverty and violence. To be honest, I believe it’s impossible when the majority of the population is magic and runs on primal instincts. But that doesn’t mean I don’t fight hard to minimise it. My efforts are clearly lacking in some important areas, so I’ll do my best to fix it.”

“Huh.” Eric looked at Mikhail with a mixture of surprise and gratitude on his face. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“It's no problem,” Mikhail replied, giving him a small smile. “Now, how about we all hop to it?”

He was grateful when everyone poured out of his suite, including Sabre. She promised to be back as soon as her friends, Mercy and Phaedra, arrived. Until then, he was going to dunk his head under some cold water and do his best not to imagine his non-mate and Eric alone together in the dark library.