Chapter 7

7

M ikhail remained stoic as Jinx walked away from him, perhaps forever. The potential of what could have been settled in his gut like lead.

During their discussion, he’d done his best to hold back his emotions, keeping up a strong facade for both their sakes. But as soon as she was out of sight, he threw his head back and let out a guttural roar to release all the pent-up pain, regret, frustration and anger that had been building inside him since the moment Jinx had announced they were mates. The sound echoed through the empty garden, causing birds to scatter from the trees and take flight.

“Fuck my life!” he snarled, marching over to a statue of his father.

It towered over him, a looming and imposing figure made of stone. The details of his father's face were expertly carved, perfectly capturing his kind expression and strong features. Even in stone, Maliq had a regal air about him. Mikhail fought the urge to push it over.

“Did you see this coming?” Mikhail yelled, emotion thick in his voice. “Damnit, Father! You saw everything else. You couldn’t have warned me? Maybe I would have found a different way if I’d known a pretty weretiger was in my future.”

The statue of his father remained unmoved, a silent witness to his struggles. Mikhail's heart ached with a deep, lingering pain. It was as unexpected as it was mortifying. His life was complicated enough. He didn’t need to add heartbreak to the list. And why did it feel like that anyway? He didn’t know her. He didn’t love her.

But I could have. One day, his mind supplied.

He closed his eyes, remembering Jinx's face—her blue and green eyes flashing with hurt and betrayal as he rejected their bond. “Fuck my life,” he muttered again, resting his forehead against the coarse stone.

He had no idea what to do from here. He understood Jinx’s need for space and time to process their complicated situation. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be afforded the same luxury. He had a room full of people eager to hear the outcome. And he had no doubt they were expecting it to be a good one. What would they say when they realised he wouldn’t be accepting the mate bond with Jinx? What’s more, what would they do ? Especially Sabre.

“Death,” Mikhail decided, standing up. “Sabre will do death.”

He was contemplating opening a portal to the deepest, darkest cave he could find when Sabre walked out of the palace. She spotted him within seconds and gave him a jaunty salute before swiftly approaching him.

“Well, how did it go?” she asked, nudging him with her elbow.

He braced himself as much as he could. “I turned her away. I won’t be mated to Jinx.”

Sabre froze. “What the fuck did you say?”

This is bad, Mikhail thought, starting to sweat. “Let me explain …”

“Explain what?” Sabre hissed, advancing on him. “That your soulmate literally walked through your front door, and you decided to shit on her?” Mikhail backed up until he hit the statue of his father. “What? She isn’t good enough for you?”

Mikhail scowled, standing to his full height. Did Sabre really think so little of him? “That’s not it.”

“Then, what, you don’t want to be tied down with a mate?” Sabre demanded, jabbing him in the chest with the muzzle of a gun.

Mikhail eyed the weapon askance. “Where did that come from? You know what, it doesn’t matter,” he decided. Mate or not, Jinx was more important than a murderous Sabre. “It’s not like that. It’s not Jinx. It’s not her. It’s me.”

“Oh, shut up. I don’t want to hear it.” Sabre pushed the gun into his sternum, getting in his face. “You know, I didn’t think you could hurt me more than when you ordered me to kill you. But this right here? Breaking the spirit of one of the most beautiful people in all the realms? Congratulations. You did it.”

The words cut through him like a knife, each one piercing his heart with unerring accuracy. He could feel the weight of his mistakes crashing down on him, the pain of knowing he had caused so much harm to the ones he loved the most. He would take a lot from Sabre. He owed her more than he could ever repay. But he wouldn’t allow her to believe a falsehood about Jinx.

He moved slowly, grasping the gun between his thumb and forefinger. Then he pushed it down until it was hanging by Sabre’s side. “She’s not broken.”

Thankfully, Sabre made no move to shoot him. “What?”

“Jinx is not broken,” Mikhail repeated firmly. “Just so we’re straight. No,” he said when Sabre opened her mouth. “I’m doing the talking now. You haven’t even asked what we think about this—Jinx and me. Since the revelation, all you’ve done is think about yourself. When you get a moment, go and take a good look at your friend, Sabre. Tell me if she looks broken to you. She doesn’t want to be my mate any more than I want to be hers. It’s mutual, Sabre.”

Sabre stared at him for a moment before scoffing and glancing around. “What kind of bullshit is this? Am I being punked? Of course, she wants to be your mate.”

Mikhail sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Just because you want a mate doesn’t mean it’s right for everybody.”

Sabre looked incredulous. “Did Jinx tell you that? If so, she’s lying. And you’re allowing yourself to believe it because you don’t want her for some fucked up reason.”

“Sabre, I love you. You’re one of my favourite people in the whole universe. But this is none of your business,” Mikhail said through gritted teeth. He was getting pissed off.

Sabre glared at him. “Wrong. Jinx is my business. And you sure as hell are,” she declared, waving her gun around.

“Maybe so,” he allowed. “But this isn’t something you get a say in. It’s not up to you.”

“Well, clearly, it shouldn’t be up to you either! You’re fucking it up,” Sabre shouted at him.

Mikhail pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately wishing for the cave. Opening his eyes, he caught Sabre’s furious gaze. “Would you really take Jinx’s autonomy away? Would you force her into a situation she doesn’t want?”

Sabre reared back as if he’d slapped her. “Of course not. I would never. The very thought is abhorrent.”

He nodded. “That’s right. It is. Jinx has decided I am not for her.”

Sabre stared at him for a moment before she tucked the gun away, looking a little lost. “I don’t understand, Mikhail.”

“I don’t think I do either. Not really,” he admitted. “I just know now is not the time to claim a mate. It doesn’t matter if you think it’s a mistake. It’s my mistake to make. Mine and Jinx’s. And this is how it’s going to be. I’m sorry. I hate disappointing you.”

Sabre sighed. “I am disappointed. Like, really disappointed. And I still don’t understand what the fuck is going on.” Her lips quirked. “Who would have thought the evil assassin could be so upset over a ruined fairytale?”

Mikhail relaxed a little, confident he was no longer in danger of eating a bullet. “I always knew you were a romantic at heart,” he teased.

Sabre shoved him. “You did not.”

“Did, too,” Mikhail shot back. “Remember the time you helped that gander find his pretty goosey bae? You were so invested in their love story.”

Sabre sniffed disdainfully, raising her chin. “That proves nothing. Besides, those geese were clearly meant to be together.”

“Oh, do tell,” Mikhail said, leaning forward with exaggerated interest. “It’s been years since I heard all about your matchmaking escapades with waterfowl.”

Sabre huffed, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. “I was on a stakeout near that little pond in Willowbrook Park. There was this scrawny male goose honking mournfully, and nobody ever honked back. It was pathetic, really.”

“And you, the cold-hearted assassin that you are, couldn't resist intervening,” Mikhail teased, grateful to fall into their usual rhythm.

Sabre glared at him playfully. “Shut up. Anyway, I noticed that there was a female goose on the other side of the pond who seemed to be avoiding all the other geese. She looked sad and lonely.”

“And what did you do?” Mikhail asked, leaning back against his father’s statue.

“I may have spent three days stalking them from the bushes and tossing bits of bread to lure them closer together so they would accidentally cross paths,” Sabre admitted with a sheepish grin.

Mikhail chuckled. “I can just imagine your face as you watched this little love story unfold.”

“It was surprisingly heartwarming,” Sabre said with a shrug. “You should have heard their little honks of joy. They even made a nest near the pond. Geese mate for life, you know.” She paused and lowered her voice. “It was nice to see some love and happiness in my line of work. Even if it was feathered.”

Mikhail pushed off the statue and reached for her hand. He was glad when Sabre allowed it instead of trying to crush his fingers. “You deserve that kind of love, Sabre. I’m so happy for you and Brax.”

Sabre squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Mikhail.”

When he tried to pull away, Sabre held firm. He stopped tugging, resigned to his fate. “Go ahead. I’ll give you a free pass.”

Sabre scowled. “As if I need a free pass to kick your butt. I was going to say that you deserve to have a mate, too. But …” She squeezed his hand to the point of pain. The cracking of his knuckles was loud in the open space. “I respect your choice—and Jinx’s. I don’t understand it. And I think it’s fucking stupid. But I respect it.”

“Ow!” Mikhail exclaimed, snatching his hand back. He cradled it to his chest. “I didn’t know respect hurt so much.”

Sabre bared her teeth at him. “Well, it does.”

Mikhail zipped his lips, figuring he’d pushed his luck enough for one day. When Sabre began walking back into the palace, he followed silently. He couldn’t help looking over his shoulder in the direction Jinx had gone. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” he whispered.

Sabre didn’t say anything, but she did pause so he could catch up. He was grateful for her shoulder brushing against his as he turned his back on fate.