Chapter 30

30

T he waterfall did indeed flow up . Mikhail had discovered the physic-defying phenomenon many years ago. But seeing the amazement and joy on Jinx’s face as the water carried her to the top platform had been more priceless than any of his own experiences.

They swam for almost an hour, exploring both pools and riding the waterfall numerous times. Only when their friendly game of splashing had turned heated, their legs twining together beneath the warm water, did he excuse himself. He guzzled water, praying his cock would deflate before Jinx joined him. He’d known it was risky to be semi-clothed with Jinx, but it was a risk he was willing to take to give her something special. The Gardens were magical and never failed to ease his stress.

He went about setting out some snacks. The grass was so lush that no picnic blanket was required. He turned to hail Jinx, finding her already emerging from the water. Her crimson swimsuit clung to her curves as she gracefully made her way up the shore. Droplets cascaded down her petite form, travelling from her throat to her thighs. Time seemed to slow as she approached, her long hair trailing rivulets down her back. His breath caught in his throat; she was utterly captivating, part siren, part goddess.

A hot flush spread through his body as Jinx drew nearer, her hips swaying hypnotically with each step. Desire stirred, his heart raced, and his palms began to sweat. He wondered if she could see the longing in his eyes, the way he drank in every detail of her like a man parched. When she flashed him a coy smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief, it sent a jolt through him. Oh, she knows, he thought. And she seems mighty pleased about it.

His non-mate stopped just short of him, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. Time hung suspended as she looked up into his eyes, her expression unreadable. “You know,” she said, her tone playful, “it's rude to stare.”

Mikhail opened his mouth to protest, then closed it, swallowing hard. “I-I’m just admiring the view,” he stammered, his face flushing crimson because he sounded like a damn virgin.

Jinx raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a knowing smirk. “Is that so?” she teased.

He took a deep, unsteady breath, bracing himself for whatever came next, hoping he could play it cool, knowing he was utterly unprepared emotionally if Jinx decided to jump his bones. “Jinx … there’s food.”

She blinked a few times as if coming out of a trance before taking a hasty step back. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to turn into a nymph there. I just feel so good. And you look so good …”

Mikhail laughed, tension evaporating. “I’m glad you feel good. That’s what today is all about. And I can’t say I’m mad that you think I look good. I’m just concerned about the consequences of those looks you keep giving me.”

“What consequences would those be?” Jinx asked. She bent over to retrieve her towel, scrubbing vigorously at her hair.

“Sex,” Mikhail said bluntly, watching her nipples peak and push against the wet fabric. “Do you think we can have sex and not mate? If you do, you have my unconditional consent to take me down to the ground and ravish me. But if you think that’s impossible or not what you want, we should eat.”

Jinx’s pupils dilated, and her breath quickened. “I hadn’t considered the possibility of sex without claiming.”

“Oh, well … I have,” he confessed, wondering if his foot was now permanently stuck in his mouth.

“I think …” she began hesitantly, wrapping the towel around her body. “I think I need to give it some thought.”

“You do that. But remember, you’re the one in control here. It’s your decision. I would never do anything you’re not comfortable with.” He spoke firmly, wanting to ensure she knew how serious he was.

Her lips tilted. “Something tells me sex with you would be far from comfortable—in the best way possible. But would it be wise?”

“It’s like you’re reading my mind,” Mikhail told her lightly. He helped her to sit before settling himself behind her. “Here, you eat while I brush your hair. You don’t want it to tangle as it dries.”

Jinx looked at him over her shoulder. “You want to brush my hair?”

He grabbed the brush from the bag, replying, “Very much.” He thought about it for a moment. “Is that weird?”

Jinx’s smile lit up her whole face. “No. It’s not weird. It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

Mikhail grinned, stupidly happy when Jinx turned her head, giving him access to her thick, wet locks. He hesitated for a moment, savouring the trust she was showing him. With a gentleness that surprised even himself, he reached out and touched her hair, feeling the weight and texture of the strands. “These stripes are magnificent,” he told her.

“Thanks. I was born with them.”

“I assumed,” he said, carefully separating the different sections with his fingers, not wanting to pull or hurt her. “Not all shifters share physical traits with their inner animals. In fact, it’s far more common that they don’t.”

Jinx nodded her head slightly. “I know. No one else in my family has hair like this. Same with the different coloured eyes. It’s why my parents named me Jinx. Because they thought I was born cursed, and everything turned to shit for them after they had me.”

Mikhail stilled. “What?”

“It’s fine,” Jinx assured him with a shrug. “They were uneducated arseholes.”

He was silent for a moment as he carefully untangled knots, his fingers moving deftly. He was well acquainted with unruly hair. The men in his family were cursed with thick, fast-growing locks. The quiet gave him time to ensure his voice was steady when he spoke next. “They were wrong. You are a gift.”

Jinx’s shoulders slumped. “So Sabre told me from the very first day I met her. I didn’t believe her then.”

Mikhail brushed her hair in long, even strokes. “And now?”

Jinx sighed, closing her eyes and tilting her head back a little. “I guess I do most of the time, but then something happens to remind me of my shitty past, like getting that filthy collar, and I forget again.”

He frowned. “What do you mean? What collar?” When she didn’t reply, he moved around on his knees and found her deathly pale. “Jinx, what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I didn’t mean to say that.” She slammed her hands against her thighs angrily. “Why do I keep blabbing when I’m around you?”

Mikhail felt unease ripple through him, shattering the idyllic day. “It’s clearly not nothing. You look like you’re about to pass out.” She remained stubbornly silent, but he wasn’t having it this time. He picked her up, placing her in his lap and forcing her to look at his face. “Jinx, tell me what you meant.”

Jinx's eyes darted away, fixing on a point in the distance. Her shoulders tensed, but she didn’t attempt to move. “Just a cruel prank. Someone's idea of a sick joke,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

“ What was a cruel prank?” Mikhail demanded, his inner demon stirring.

“Last night at the party, there was a box with no card.” She licked her lips before whispering, “It had a collar in it.”

He didn’t grasp the significance. “A collar?”

“Yes,” Jinx said, louder this time. “Identical to the one I wore when I was a sex slave.”

His whole body jerked. He couldn’t help it. Hearing the stark, painful truth of those words felt like a physical blow. He slowly removed his arms from around her, giving her leave to put space between them. Being held was probably the last thing she wanted. Once she moved from his lap, he asked, “Who would do that?”

“I don’t know. Someone who knows about my past, obviously,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, a defensive gesture that spoke volumes.

“Has anything like this happened before?” he pressed, his voice tight with anger.

Jinx picked at a loose thread on her towel, refusing to look at him. “No. Not since Sabre slaughtered my Master and most of the patrons at his brothel when she saved me.”

Mikhail flinched. “Don’t call him that.”

Jinx finally looked up. Her eyes were dry, but her gaze was distant. “What? My Master? That’s what he was.”

“No. He wasn’t,” Mikhail said, his voice firm though laced with sorrow. “He was a sexual predator who deserved killing more than anyone else in Purgatory. He was not your Master. No one has the power to be that because your heart—your soul—cannot be captured. You are your own master. Always were. Always will be.”

“Do you really mean that?” she whispered shakily.

“I do,” Mikhail vowed, his eyes locking with hers.

“It still hurts so much,” she said, sounding like she was making a sinful confession. “Even though I shove it down. Even though I refuse to think about it, it still hurts so fucking bad.”

He nodded slowly, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. He wondered if she’d ever really dealt with the soul-deep trauma inflicted upon her when she was an innocent girl. Or if she lived day in and day out for years in denial. It seemed easier that way, he knew. But it didn’t work.

Gently, he told her, “Pain lingers, Jinx. It has a way of embedding itself deep within us, festering like an untreated wound. It stays with us until we lance it, let it out, and give it the air it needs to heal. You have to allow yourself to feel it. Only then can you begin to release it.”

Jinx’s eyes shimmered with the tears she refused to let fall, her walls starting to crack under the weight of his words. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, biting her lip as if the pain could keep her from crumbling. He watched her struggle, hoping she would take the lifeline he was offering.

“You’ve been holding it all inside, trying to be strong. But strength isn't about never breaking; it’s about knowing when to let go,” Mikhail said.

When the first tear fell, he pulled her into his arms. She cried and screamed herself hoarse, and through it all, he whispered words of encouragement and comfort. If a few of his own tears fell, he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. When she eventually quieted, he didn’t say anything, just continued to rock her in his lap, hoping the breakdown was cathartic.

After a few more minutes, Jinx scrubbed her face roughly with her palms and peeked at him. “I’m?—”

Mikhail interrupted her. “If the first words out of your mouth are I’m sorry, I’m going to get really mad,” he warned.

Jinx snapped her mouth shut, some of her usual spark returning to her expression. “What should I say instead, oh Great King?”

He wanted to grin, but he wasn’t quite there yet. Her sarcasm was music to his ears, nonetheless. “You say: I am so proud of myself. I am so brave. I am so strong. I am a survivor.”

Jinx’s breath hitched, and she gripped his arm hard, her nails digging into his skin. “Mikhail …”

Seeing the plea in her eyes, he lowered his head slowly, brushing his lips against hers. They tasted of salt from her tears, and he breathed her in, the scent of her mingling with the warm air. He used his tongue to trace her soft lips, coaxing them to open. Her body trembled against his, a mixture of hope and longing that mirrored his own turbulent emotions. When her lips parted, his tongue sought hers out, dancing and duelling in a slow, erotic rhythm that had his heart pounding.

When he pulled back, he paused for a heartbeat, savouring the delicate tension between them, before kissing her forehead. “Okay?” he queried.

Jinx reached up, pressing her palm against his cheek. Her smile was slow in coming but genuine and beautiful. “Okay,” she replied.

The relief he felt was palpable. “If you ever need to do that again—the crying thing—I’m here.”

She stroked his cheek one last time before letting her hand fall. “Thank you.”

Though he was loathe to do it, he shifted her off him once again but made sure to keep her close enough that they were still touching. “I’m sorry, but I need to ask you more questions about the mysterious gift. You said nothing like this has happened before. Have you noticed anyone following you lately? Any strange calls or messages?"

Jinx sighed, shooting him a disgruntled look. “I should have known you wouldn’t let it drop. It’s why I haven’t mentioned it to Sabre or the others. She’d never let me out of her sight. And, no, nothing. Well, I heard a twig snap behind me one day. But there was no one there. It could have been from anyone,” she continued. “An old client, one of the handlers who didn’t get dead, even your brother.”

“Zagan?” Mikhail repeated.

Jinx shrugged. “Sure. He really wants to fuck with you. He may think that taunting me with the collar would affect you.”

Anger washed through him once more. “He’d be right.”

Jinx reached for Mikhail’s clenched fist, loosening his fingers and interlocking them with hers. “How did we go from rejecting our mate bond outright to feeling the sting of each other’s pain?” she mused.

He looked down at their joined hands, feeling protective and possessive. Her hands were so much smaller than his. Tiny, even. And so incredibly soft. They would be so easily broken. “I don’t know,” he answered. “But I’m not mad about it.”

“You know, you were wrong before,” Jinx said softly, meeting his eyes. “When you said my heart could never be captured. I have a feeling you could … one day.”

If it were possible for his heart to skip a beat, it would have. He kissed the back of her hand, promising, “One day for me too. When Zagan is dead or behind bars and when we’re both ready. But until then, you need to tell Sabre about the collar and anything else you can think of. We’ll see if we can retrieve it from the rubbish. I’m assuming that’s why you were acting so squirrelly last night. You were disposing of the evidence.”

Jinx shot him a disgruntled look. “I’m not sure I like how easily you can read me.”

Mikhail raised a single brow. “Oh? I happen to love it. Besides, it’s not as if you can’t read me . Turnabout is fair play. Now, promise me you’ll talk to Sabre.”

She didn’t look happy about it but gave him her word. “I just think we have bigger fish to fry than my delicate psyche,” she grumbled.

“Not delicate,” he refuted. “Strong. And it will always be important, no matter what happens between us in the future. I will never purposely hurt you, Jinx. I swear it.”

“I know that. I truly do. I trust you, Mikhail, which is why …” she climbed to her knees, bringing their heads level. “I’ve come to a decision about what you said earlier. Yes, I think we can have sex without claiming each other.”

His eyes nearly fell out of his head when Jinx tucked her thumbs under the straps of her bathing suit and tugged them down her shoulders. She peeled the straps off her arms, not stopping until her breasts were exposed.

“Sex,” she repeated. “But no biting, no scratching, and no drawing blood. Deal?”

Mikhail reached out, cupping the soft mounds in front of him. Her nipples turned painfully hard in an instant. “Deal.”