Page 262 of The Mercy of Dawn

“Soft isn’t high on the list of words I would use to describe any part of you.”

Mikael wheezed a laugh that reverberated right through her.

“What did you call me once…a rake?” He drew back enough to level a look of mirth with her. “I think you’re worse than I am, Lady Cyril, and I”—he notched his fingers under Cyril’s chin, grazing his lips over hers—“love you so much for that.”

The kiss that he sealed that statement with? Cyril never wanted it to end. There was no spark of heat that so often sidelined tender moments. This was soft and affectionate, and more than Cyril ever could have dreamed of such a simple gesture.

But it did end, with Mikael resting his forehead against hers.

Quietly, he said, “You know, I always used to think all the preaching my mother does about fates and destinies was a bunch of bullshit. But I think I understand her now.”

“You do?” Cyril shifted back in his lap and tipped her head.

A boyish smile pulled across Mikael’s lips as he nodded, baring those damn teeth, and completely betrayed the unease his eyes scoured her face with.

And he… Gods, it was dark out, but was he blushing?

Cyril’s heart started beating a bit faster.

“I do. And what I think, wrath”—he smoothed a hand over her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake—“is that I was meant to have my ass kicked by an infuriating woman from Helia. That I was meant to be here, at your side, every time things fell apart. And what I don’t think is that it was just a coincidence I felt so drawn to you the moment you showed up on our doorstep, armed for war, that it nearly drove me out of my fucking mind.”

Tears pricked at her eyes and, for a moment, Cyril had no more words for Mikael.

Just the small proclamation she made, of feeling at home with him and wanting to take care of him, on the heels of their conversation that morning… It drained the shallow reserves of her emotional expression entirely.

And she hated that.

Hated that she felt paralyzed too, staring into Mikael’s glacial eyes as he looked back at her with a sort of eagerness that made her blood run hot and cold at the same damn time.

Cyril was bad at this. Bad at feelings. Bad at talking about feelings. Bad at expressing much else than anger and pent-up frustrations.

And that…it wouldn’t change overnight.

Even for how much she knew she loved Mikael, for how all she wanted to do was touch him and be in his arms, and breathe the same damn air as him.

She needed time for some things.

So, slowly, Cyril took his face in her hands, slipping her fingers around to cradle his nape.

“Are you implying that we ended up here because of fate, and not just because you like the sight of me strapped with weapons?” she asked, all feigned disbelief.

Mikael’s eyes flickered with amusement.

“I’m implying that for whatever reason we ended up here, I’m grateful, because I couldn’t imagine dealing with all of this bullshit with anyone else.”

Cyril grinned. “The feeling is mutual.”

“Good.” Mikael tucked her hair behind the point of her ear and let his knuckles trail down the side of her neck. The smile he fixed her with made her heart feel like it was about to burst. “And let’s not pretend I haven’t seen how you look at me in my uniform, wrath.”

Cyril laughed.

“You should wear it more—”

Mikael silenced her with a kiss. Longer, this time, but it still had Cyril sighing when he pulled away from her.

“We should head back,” Mikael said with resignation. “You’re alright to keep standing?”

Her leg ached already from the few hours she had spent standing so far. But she didn’t want Mikael to worry about that. Not now. Not with everything else he had on his shoulders.