Page 95 of Reluctant Rebel

“Now …” Sabre began, brandishing her knife once more. “Now, I ask you a few more questions while I have a captive audience.”

“That’s cool,” Mikhail said quickly, keeping his hands flat beside his head. “But … are we good? Do you love me?”

She ran her tongue over her top teeth, regarding him steadily. “We’re good. I love you.”

He wanted to jump for joy and hug her, but she had that pigsticker of hers pressed against his skin once more. “Thank you, Sabre. I love you, too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sabre griped, sounding like her old self. “Tell me about Jinx. She’s good enough to fuck but not good enough to mate?”

Mikhail jolted, all but impaling himself on the blade. “Sabre!”

“Oops,” Sabre commented mildly. “You may have a small puncture wound.”

“Damnit!” Mikhail grumbled, finally bucking Sabre off. He sat up and pressed his hand to his neck, feeling wetness—and a hole. “You stabbed me in the neck.”

“Oh, please. You stabbed yourself. You’re the one who moved.” She stood up, brushing off feathers before offering him a hand.

Mikhail grumbled but accepted the assistance. He went to the mirror by his door, examining the broken skin. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t a scratch either. He kept pressure on it as he moved to his bedroom, rummaging around in his drawers for the first-aid kit. After slapping a dressing on it, he returned tothe living room to find Sabre helping the female hellhound add some feathers to his ruined sectional.

“Well?” Sabre tossed over her shoulder. “Are you making Jinx your mistress or something? That will look great to the masses questioning your ability to lead.”

“I’m not making Jinx my mistress,” Mikhail said roughly. “I can’t have anything that supersedes my duty to the throne. And that includes claiming a fated mate.”

Sabre looked at him, head cocked to the side as if he were a circus oddity. “You think you’ll be a shitty king if you take Jinx as your Queen?”

“I think I’ll be adistractedking,” he clarified.

Sabre shook her head, looking more annoyed with each passing second. “You really are a moron, aren’t you? Are you forgetting that you were designed for Jinx by the fates themselves? You aresupposedto be with her. She issupposedto be withyou. Did you ever stop and think that maybe the way to succeed is by accepting your destiny instead of fighting against it? That maybe you’ll belessdistracted with Jinx by your side because that is where she is supposed to be? By. Your. Side.”

“I …” Mikhail closed his mouth with a resoundingsnap. No. He had not thought of that.

Sabre marched over to him, skewering him with a disgusted look. “You don’t deserve my wisdom, but I’m going to give it to you anyway because I’m magnanimous.”

“Magnanimous? Have you been playing Wordle again?” He dodged, feeling the breeze from her open palm as it sailed past his face, missing him by millimetres.

She glared at him. “Mikhail, you were not just born to be King. You were also born to be Jinx’s mate. You think being bonded will be a weakness? That’s impossible. Fate doesn’t make mistakes like that. If the gods have given you Jinx, it’s because she will make youstronger.” She grabbed onto hisbiceps, pulling him close. “I have fought against many things throughout my years, but I’ve never fought fate.” She released him, and he rocked back a step. “So, just, you know … stop.”

“Stop fighting fate?” Mikhail repeated. He’d been completely unaware of doing it.

“Stop,” Sabre confirmed. “And stop denying Jinx. It’s time to drop the rope, Mikhail. There can be no tug of war if one person drops the rope. Accept who you are. Accept what you’re here to do. And see what happens when you’re not constantly tugging.” She paused and snickered. “When you’re not tugging. That sounds dirty. Like wanking.”

Mikhail rolled his eyes, his mouth twitching into a smile. “I get the euphemism, Sabre. You don’t need to paint me a picture.”

“Great!” Sabre cheered. She spun him around and pushed him towards the door. “Now go tell Jinx you love her.”

Mikhail dug his heels in, his breath leaving him in a rush. “I didn’t say anything about love.”

Sabre huffed and rolled her eyes. “You didn’t need to. You can’t stay away from her even though your misplaced sense of duty tells you to. You think about her all the time, and you’d do anything for her. Plus, the stupid little hearts in your eyes every time you look at her is a dead giveaway.”

“I do not have hearts in my eyes,” Mikhail retorted. He promptly rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, just in case there was any truth to the absurd accusation. “But you’re right about the other stuff. Isn’t it too soon?”

He remembered his parents’ long courtship, the years they spent building a life together before even considering marriage. Though they were probably a poor example, he acknowledged.

“What the fuck does time have to do with anything? One week, one month or one year … who cares? You either have lovein your heart, or you don’t,” Sabre told him as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

“I’m inclined to think you’re right,” Mikhail said carefully, ignoring Sabre’s scoff. “And because I’m hopeful Jinx is of the same mind after speaking with her earlier, I shall take your advice and stop fighting. After we deal with Z?—”

“Nope!” Sabre interrupted with a disapproving frown. “Not after. Now.” She gentled her tone, continuing, “You’ve been stuck since you returned, Mikhail, and so very careful. Careful not to say or do the wrong thing, careful not to make any big choices or any big moves, careful not to offend anyone. You’re scared to make a mistake. You’re scared to have more regrets. So, you’ve tiptoed around your family, your people, your mate, and your enemies. Your caution is understandable, but it’s paralysing you. You need to break free from this fear if you want to move forward. Maybe taking action in one part of your life will help you take action in others.”

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