Averting his gaze from Jamil, Rohan began speaking.
“Tai’Lehrians are tired,” he said. “Tired of hiding, tired of forging bonding certificates and living in fear of discovery, since we’re hiding in plain sight. Over the past few decades, there appeared movements that wanted us to come clean to the Council and demand lawful status—or failing that, an independence from Calluvia.” Rohan’s lips twitched. “You could say the rebels have rebel movements now too. Those radical groups thought that enough time had passed since the rebels left Calluvia. They insisted that the Council wouldn’t consider us criminals if we came clean and proved that we weren’t dangerous. But the governor of the colony, Lord Tai’Lehr, was as conservative as his predecessors. He wasn’t convinced that approaching the Council would accomplish anything besides war.”
Jamil opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it and allowed Rohan to continue.
“But a few years ago, the old governor died and his son inherited the title. The new Lord Tai’Lehr agreed to listen to those radical groups and has been eventually swayed to their point of view. So for the past few years, the governor and the Tai’Lehrian Senate have been putting together a strategy for their eventual appeal to the Calluvian Council. Although their plans weren’t widely known, they weren’t exactly secret. It’s possible that the High Hronthar learned of them.” If High Hronthar learned about their plans, the monks were unlikely to be happy. Tai’Lehrians’ recognition as lawful citizens would destabilize the whole Calluvian society, shake the foundation of the High Hronthar’s power if the Bonding Law became optional. The High Hronthar obviously couldn’t allow it.
He could feel Jamil’s confusion. “But why didn’t you suspect the High Hronthar from the beginning? It seems so obvious now.”
Rohan shook his head. “Since the assassination attempts on Warrehn coincided with the start of the anti-rebel campaign on Calluvia, we obviously thought it was all Dalatteya’s work: that she was trying to finish the job she started years ago, and failing that, she wanted to discredit Warrehn’s only allies. We didn’t know that Dalatteya was just a pawn of the High Hronthar.”
A wrinkle appeared between Jamil’s elegant brows, his lips pursing. Rohan felt a fresh wave of affection. He really liked watching Jamil think. He liked watching Jamil, period. Everything about him was so elegant, exquisite, and lovely that it was difficult to look away from him. Even sitting on the bed completely naked, Jamil exuded so much poise, Rohan felt like a brute in comparison. A brute who was allowed for some reason to put his paws all over that perfection. A brute who was allowed to sully such loveliness with his cock.
“What about Prince Warrehn’s younger brother?” Jamil said.
Rohan grimaced. “He’s likely dead. When he was escaping from his would-be assassins, Warrehn was forced to give the kid to someone else so that the boy had a chance to escape, but since the little prince didn’t turn up anywhere over the last nineteen years, the boy must be dead. Dalatteya seemed to think so, too.”
Jamil shook his head slowly. “I still can’t believe Dalatteya is capable of murdering innocent boys...” He cocked his head to the side, thoughtful. “I presume Prince Warrehn is ready to return home? He’d better have ironclad proof that his aunt is the one trying to assassinate him, or no one will believe him. Dalatteya has excellent connections in the Council. People love her and her son, love them far more than the direct line Prince Warrehn belongs to.”
Rohan frowned. “I know. We don’t have proof that she’s the one attempting to kill Warrehn. It will be Warrehn’s word against hers.”
Catching Jamil’s strange look, Rohan said, “What?”
“You know a lot for an average rebel,” Jamil said.
Rohan suppressed a sigh. Jamil had been bound to get suspicious, sooner or later, but he would have preferred for it to be later than sooner. He wasn’t sure if Jamil would consider him a liar for not telling him the truth from the beginning.
He picked up Jamil’s hand and stroked his long fingers before bringing the hand to his mouth. He brushed his lips against Jamil’s signet ring and felt Jamil tense up.
Their gazes met and held.
Rohan didn’t need to say anything. It was a gesture of fealty, used only between a lord-vassal and their monarch.
“Rohan’ngh’lavere, the governor of Tai’Lehr. At your service, Your Highness.”
Chapter 19
Jamil stared at him.
He would like to say he felt furious or betrayed, but to his shame, the first emotion he felt was hope. Painful, illogical hope that they could actually be something permanent, that they could be them. It was a fool’s hope: the fact that Rohan was of noble blood didn’t change anything, considering that under the current law, Rohan and his people were law-breakers. Even if Tai’Lehrians decided not to go through with revealing their unbonded state to the Council, Rohan would still have his fictional bondmate and wouldn’t be able to marry Jamil even if Jamil did the unheard of and married a second time.
Jamil almost laughed at his own thoughts. Rohan had never expressed any desire to marry him. He was mostly heterosexual. It was all good and well to get off with another man, but actuality sharing life with one? Rohan hadn’t even hinted about wanting that.
Heavens, he was being pathetic. A needy, pathetic idiot.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but I don’t like it,” Rohan said, his dark brows drawn together.
“I’m fine,” Jamil said with a forced smile. “Just surprised.”
Black eyes bored into him. “Don’t lie to me,” Rohan said, squeezing his hand. His voice softened. “What is it, sweetheart?”
The worst part was, he wanted to confess everything. The warm intimacy between them was incredibly hard to resist, making him feel like he could tell Rohan anything without being judged or looking silly.
“Just indulging in some wishful thinking,” Jamil said with a crooked smile. “It’s stupid.”
Rohan’s serious, steady expression didn’t change. “Tell me. I want to know your thoughts, even if you think they’re stupid. I’m sure they aren’t.”
Jamil hoped his face didn’t look as smitten as he felt. Fuck, this was ridiculous. He had never felt like this with Mehmer, no matter how much he had loved him.
“I just…” He dropped his gaze, looking at their clasped hands, Rohan’s fingers dark against his pale ones. “In other circumstances, there could have been us.” His face was burning, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at Rohan.
A strong emotion came from Rohan through their bond, something too complex to decipher.
Rohan laid his free hand on his nape and pulled him close, their foreheads pressing against each other. “I wish I could stay with you,” he said, his voice rough. “I wish I could take you with me, and damn everything.”
Jamil squeezed his eyes shut, as if that would stop him from yearning for it. He couldn’t believe how tempting it was. What was wrong with him? He was the Crown Prince, a future king of the Third Grand Clan of Calluvia. He couldn’t just run away from his responsibilities, couldn’t abandon his family and his people.
“I know it’s selfish,” Rohan said, nuzzling into Jamil’s cheek. “I know you’d never do it, but fucking hell, it feels like the best idea ever when I’m with you.” He gave a harsh laugh, squeezing Jamil’s hand and bringing it to his mouth. “Then again, I’m not good at thinking rationally when I’m with you. You could tell me to kill someone, and I probably would.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jamil said, smiling, but his voice was off. He could barely hold back the confession that made his heart feel like it was about to burst out of his chest. I adore you. Don’t leave me again.
He didn’t say anything. But he wrapped his arms around Rohan’s strong back, fingers roaming over the warm, bare skin, and held on.
Just for a little while.
When Rohan’s mouth brushed against his, Jamil parted his lips eagerly, letting Rohan’s tongue in and sucking on it. Every suck sent a new wave of bliss through his body and he moaned against Rohan’s mouth, pulling him in, tighter and tighter until it was no longer possible.
They toppled onto the bed, Rohan’s hips pushing between Jamil’s thighs, his heavy body pinning him against the soft mattress, stomachs and erections pressing flush against each other.
Jamil wrapped his legs around Rohan’s hips, looked Rohan in the eye, and said,
“Get in me.”
Rohan’s dark eyes became glassy.
He stared at Jamil for a long moment, his muscles stiff and his face tense.
“Yes,” he said, his voice ringing with tension. Desire pulsed between them, charging the air, bringing a flush to Jamil’s cheeks.
Rohan’s hands stroked Jamil’s bare thighs, kneading the thin, sensitive skin there, before wrapping around Jamil’s aching, leaking cock.
Jamil moaned, his vision darkening. He could only gasp as Rohan stroked him, milking his cock for its natural lubricant until he gathered enough to stroke his slippery fingers over Jamil’s hole. The high-pitched sound that left Jamil’s lips would be more suited for holo-porn than the room of a crown prince. Jamil didn’t care. He spread his legs shamelessly and allowed himself to enjoy the wonderful feeling of having his hole touched and kneaded. When a thick finger slid into him, he made an encouraging noise and spread his legs wider.
“Holy fuck,” Rohan said breathlessly, looking at him with dark, glazed eyes. Jamil arched, enjoying Rohan’s hungry gaze on him almost as much as Rohan’s fingers moving in his hole. Almost. It had been too long. Truth be told, he’d always enjoyed getting fucked, far more than he liked being on top. But Mehmer had wrongly assumed that, as the Crown Prince, he would want to be in charge in the bedroom too. Jamil hadn’t disabused him of the notion, ashamed to admit his own preferences, so he had rarely gotten to experience this.
It hadn’t felt this good with Mehmer anyway. With Rohan, there was no shame, the intimacy between them killing any embarrassment he might have felt. With Rohan, Jamil could moan all he wanted, push back onto Rohan’s fingers and fuck himself on them without being self-conscious about it. With Rohan, he didn’t have to be the Crown Prince; he could be just a man, unashamed of his desires. He didn’t have to hide how much he loved being fucked, how badly he needed it.
When Rohan finally pushed his cock inside, a sob left Jamil’s lips, the sensation of being filled making his toes curl with pleasure.
