Page 77 of Reluctant Rebel

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 feelingyoucould … 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 retrieveit 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 readme. 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?”

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