Chapter 38

38

“ C arrick? What the hell are you doing in my room?” Jinx snarled, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.

“ Your room?” Carrick scoffed from his position on the floral settee. “Let’s not pretend that anything in this palace is yours .”

Her heart pounded with anger and adrenaline. She could not believe the audacity of the man. “You’ve been a pain in the arse for months, Carrick. But this is too much. Get. Out.” Jinx's words dripped with venom.

Carrick stretched his legs, utterly unconcerned. “Did you like your gift?” he asked, his tone casual, almost bored.

Jinx’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Gift? The collar? That was you?”

Carrick's lips curled into a smirk. “Of course, it was me. Who else would know exactly what you desire?”

“What I desire?” Jinx repeated, her lips barely moving.

“Don’t pretend you don’t miss the collar. I know better,” Carrick taunted, his tone laced with a hint of sadistic pleasure.

“What the fuck are you talking about? Have you lost your mind? I barely know you, you fucking idiot!” She looked around the room as if it would give her some clue about what was going on. Her senses told her nothing else was amiss; they were the only two present. “Why would you want to taunt me—to hurt me?”

“Hurt you? You misunderstand me. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to help you. All of this …” he gestured around the room, “it isn’t you. Admit it; you miss how things were when you were collared, bound, and at the mercy of your superiors.”

Jinx couldn’t believe her ears. It was like she’d stepped into an alternate reality. “Where are you getting this from? You sound like a stalker.” She thought about it for a moment. Was it possible to have a stalker and not know?

Carrick shrugged one shoulder. “Barely a stalker. I may have followed you a few times and tried to break in through your window at your sorry excuse for a home. But I’ve since found another way to get what I want. And for Purgatory to get what it needs.”

“For Purgatory to get …? You’re working with X,” Jinx stated, realisation slamming into her. “Did he put you up to this? He’s taken over your mind, Carrick.”

Carrick rolled his eyes, pushing himself up from the settee. “You’re being very dramatic. X has no need to control me when I’m a willing participant. I appreciate a man with foresight—and power. He knows what a kingdom like Purgatory needs and he has the means to make it happen. He was most impressed when I told him about your surprise birthday present.”

“Of course he was. He’s as sick as you are,” Jinx drawled.

“When he takes over the throne, he’s going to need loyal men with the same values. He thinks you’ll make a good pawn for some reason, and securing you will prove how much of an asset I can be,” Carrick said, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous fervour that made her skin crawl.

“And then, what? You get rewarded with a bunch of BDSM clubs and collared slaves?” she retorted, hoping her sarcasm would mask the rising fear she was feeling.

“I get rewarded with you,” he said simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The fuck?! she thought. How could she have been so blind? How could she have not seen how unhinged Carrick was? She had thought he reviled her. Turns out he wanted her, and that was infinitely worse.

“I can’t wait to see you on your knees, collared and naked, with my dick between your lips and your back a bloody mess from my belt.” Carrick’s eyes turned a little glazed, and his breath came in small pants. Jinx almost vomited when she saw the bulge in the front of his pants.

“That is never going to happen,” she promised him. Her mind raced, calculating her next move. Violence? Diplomacy? Was it worth not killing him for the slim chance that he had useful information about Z?

“You know, this would be so much easier if you just came along quietly.” His eyes glinted, and he grabbed his junk. “But not nearly as much fun.”

Annnnd, that was her patience gone. Carrick had officially broken her last straw. “You have ten seconds to walk away before I kill you,” she growled, her voice a low, dangerous rumble.

A lazy smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I can’t wait to remind you who the Dom is in this relationship.”

Ten. Nine. Eight … Jinx counted silently, each number a hammer stroke in her head. Seven. Six. Five … The fae was insufferable and one sick fuck. Four. Three. Two … She sized him up, calculating how much pressure she would need to exert for her claws to penetrate his skull. “One …” she said out loud.

Carrick made no move to leave. Instead, he sighed a long, exaggerated breath. “You really should learn to relax, Jinx. Stress is terrible for the complexion.”

Jinx's muscles coiled, preparing to spring. Her claws extended, sharp and gleaming. With a feral growl, she launched herself at Carrick, fully intending to tear that smug smirk off his face. But before she could make contact, a thunderous voice echoed through the room.

“What in the nine hells is going on here?!”

Mikhail stood in the doorway, his frame blocking out the light from the hallway. His green eyes flashed dangerously as he took in the scene before him: Jinx, mid-pounce, her face contorted in fury; Carrick, his expression a mixture of surprise and arrogance.

The fae recovered quickly, smoothing his features into a mask of innocence. “Ah, King Mikhail, perfect timing. Your little pet here seems to have lost her manners.”

“My … pet?” Mikhail repeated, his face carefully blank.

“Of course. You don’t have to pretend with me. I know all about Jinx’s past. In fact, I saw it firsthand.” Carrick laughed, not knowing he was digging his own grave with each word he spoke. “Why else would you keep someone like her around? You have good taste.” He was stupid enough to wink.

Was Carrick really trying to put on a good ‘ole boy act? As if Mikhail was going to sit down and start swapping sex stories with him? She could have told him that Mikhail really wasn’t the right audience, but she kept her mouth shut. Her eyes locked with Mikhail’s. She saw the rage there as well as the need to act. But she also saw the confusion. She dipped her head, silently assuring him she was okay. Carrick’s death could wait until Mikhail questioned him.

Mikhail nodded back before clearing his throat. “Jinx. Would you care to explain what is going on?”

Jinx smiled grimly. “I would love to. You know the anonymous gift I received for my birthday? Turns out it was Carrick here.”

“Is that so?” Mikhail's voice was deceptively soft, like the whisper of a blade being drawn from its sheath. “You sent my mate a gift?”

Carrick's haughty expression faltered for a moment, his eyes darting between them. “Your ... mate? Surely you jest, My King. This little stray?—”

“Choose your next words very carefully,” Mikhail interrupted, taking a step forward. The floorboards creaked ominously under his weight.

Carrick's face had gone ashen, his earlier bravado evaporating like mist in the sun. “I meant no disrespect,” he stammered, his eyes darting around the room for an escape. “I was simply trying to have a bit of fun with your little plaything here.”

“He really wasn’t,” Jinx piped up, revelling in Carrick’s fear. “Turns out he’s been stalking me. He was a customer where I was enslaved, and he’s had a hard-on for me ever since. He’s also working with X to capture me and use me as a pawn to take you down. Oh, and the best part?” Jinx added, bouncing in place and clapping her hands. “X told him that he could keep me when X becomes King. Like a reward. Isn’t that just great?”

Mikhail's clenched jaw ticked. “ So great.”

Jinx could feel the angry energy pulsing from him in waves, and she knew things were about to get messy. She couldn’t wait. Still, she’d really like the satisfaction of maiming the walking shit stain herself. She placed her hand on Mikhail’s arm, feeling the coiled violence. “It’s okay. I’m okay. We both know it’s never going to happen. I was on the verge of handling this myself before you arrived.”

Mikhail closed his eyes tightly for a second before opening them, his expression softening as he gazed at her. He reached out with one hand to gently cup her face. “I have no doubt that you were,” he murmured. “But you’ve handled so much from your past. You should never have to handle anything alone again. And now that you have the others—and me—you don’t have to.”

Her nails dug into Mikhail’s arm. “I have you?”

“You bet your cute butt you do,” he grumbled, his voice ringing with conviction.

Jinx’s mind reeled with the implication of those words. Mikhail must want her. He might even love her. She had always been so sure she was unlovable romantically, a lone wolf destined to wander without a pack. And now Mikhail was offering her not just his companionship but his heart. She had created a family with the others, and now, with Mikhail, something more. “Let’s deal with Carrick so we can discuss this further.”

Mikhail picked up her hand, kissing her knuckles. “Deal.” He pinned Carrick with a glare. “You dare to lust over my mate? You dare try to take her from me? You dare betray the throne?” he growled, his voice dropping to a guttural rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the palace.

Before Carrick could even blink, Mikhail was upon him, moving with supernatural speed, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. His hands wrapped around Carrick's throat, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed no more than a doll.

Carrick's eyes bulged, and he gasped, struggling ineffectually against Mikhail’s grip. “Please, My King. I-I-I’m being controlled by X. He can make people do whatever he wants. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

Mikhail looked over his shoulder, and Jinx shook her head in answer to his silent question. She moved until she was standing next to him. “Nope. He’s not being controlled. He comes by his sadistic ways naturally.”

Mikhail's eyes blazed with an otherworldly fire as he tightened his grip on Carrick's throat. His muscles rippled in his arms and chest, veins standing out on his neck as he squeezed. Carrick's face turned a sickly shade of purple, his eyes bulging as he clawed desperately at Mikhail's iron grip. His feet kicked uselessly in the air, unable to find purchase. The sound of his choking gasps filled the room, and Jinx chuckled darkly. “Try again,” she bade him.

Mikhail eased his hold just enough for Carrick to suck in some much-needed oxygen. “Th-this is … all one big misunderstanding.” He coughed raggedly. “I meant no harm. I was j-just joking.”

“Really?” Mikhail growled. He slammed Carrick against the wall. The impact left a spiderweb of cracks in the plaster, and Carrick slumped to the ground with a thud. “Do you get the joke?” he asked Jinx.

Jinx shook her head. “I’m not laughing.” In fact, aroused was more accurate than amused. She had never seen this side of Mikhail, and it exhilarated her. She could feel moisture practically dripping into her underwear, and her nipples were hard enough to cut glass.

Mikhail's eyes flashed with a primal intensity, his pupils dilating until they nearly eclipsed his irises as they latched onto her breasts. She could feel the raw power emanating from him, like heat from a raging inferno. “I’m definitely not laughing,” she added breathlessly.

Mikhail’s nostrils flared, his lower teeth elongating. “I’m not laughing either.”

With a guttural roar, he grabbed a hold of Carrick’s right arm, twisted viciously, then yanked. Carrick let out an agonised scream, his face contorting in pain as he tried to wrench himself free. Mikhail placed his booted foot on Carrick’s chest for leverage, and with a final, savage tug, the fae’s arm came free in a spray of crimson.

Carrick clutched at his ruined socket, his eyes wide with shock and terror. Without missing a beat, Mikhail swung the severed limb with a berserker's fury, striking Carrick across the face and chest. The blows landed with wet, meaty thuds and were relentless.

While her inner tiger rumbled her approval, the brutality of the scene shocked Jinx a little. Not because she cared about Carrick’s life but because it proved just how much Mikhail had been suppressing. A man had to have a lot of pent-up rage and pain to beat a guy to death with his own arm. My poor Mikhail, she thought, silently vowing to help him process his emotions in a healthier way in the future.

She must have made some sound when hot blood hit her face because Mikhail paused mid-swing, giving her his full attention. He held the arm out to her, offering, “You want in on this?”

Jinx had the absurd urge to giggle, and though it was completely inappropriate, she tumbled head over heels in love with him at that moment. She stepped forward, pushing the bloody limb away with two fingers. “Thanks. But I’ll settle for a bitch-slap.”

Carrick was barely alive when she bent down. Blood was still pumping from his torn arteries, but it was sluggish. His face was also smudged with blood from the beating. “This is what you get when hurting people makes your dick hard,” she informed him. “No means no!” Then she slapped him with an open palm even though she was sure he could no longer feel it. In fact, he let out one last gurgle before all sounds stopped.

Mikhail hurled the bloody arm aside like a broken toy, his chest heaving with exertion. He wiped a streak of blood from his brow, his hands trembling as he surveyed his handiwork. “Too much?”

Jinx shook her head slowly. “Nooooo, of course not. Why would you think that?”

Mikhail huffed, looking down at his hands. His claws were still extended and drenched in blood. “Did I scare you?”

She was genuinely surprised by the question. “No, of course not.”

“Good.” Jinx's heart raced as Mikhail's piercing green eyes locked onto hers. The air between them crackled with sexual tension. “We’re not fighting this anymore,” he growled, his voice low and husky.

She knew exactly what he meant. “We’re not?”

“Unless you tell me right now that this isn’t what you want, that I’m not what you want, then no. I’m done fighting against something I should have been embracing the whole time.”

This is it, she thought. This was the moment that would define them, one way or another, for the rest of their lives. “I’m not going to tell you that.”

Mikhail closed the distance between them in two long, determined strides and pulled her into his arms with an urgency that took her breath away. He cupped her face tenderly, his fingers warm against her skin, and claimed her mouth in a kiss that was both fierce and tender. She melted against him and parted her lips with a soft, surrendering moan.

“Not here,” Mikhail mumbled, pulling back.

He opened a portal behind her, and when he held out his bloodied hand, Jinx didn’t hesitate to take it.