第32章 Chapter (1)

She was so tiny.

Rohan stared at the baby sleeping soundly in her white crib and didn’t know what to feel.

All this year, he’d tried not to think about it—about the child he’d given Jamil as some kind of messed-up parting gift. But of course he had. Of course he had thought about it, regretting what he’d done. A child wasn’t something that should ever be gifted. If anyone found out that he’d given up his child—his firstborn—it would be a fucking disaster, a disaster for various reasons.

What had he been thinking? Right: he didn’t think at all. Jamil had simply looked at him pleadingly, feeling lost and so very lonely, and Rohan folded. Fucking pathetic.

She looked just like Jamil.

Rohan stared at the child, still not knowing what to feel. He had known about her existence for three months, ever since the Third Royal House announced the birth of the heir to the direct line.

Tmynne. Princess Tmynne’shni’veighli. What a grand name for such a small baby.

Rohan found himself reaching down and brushing his knuckles against her soft cheek. His hand looked very dark against her creamy white skin—as dark as it looked against Jamil’s. She was Jamil’s tiny little copy, down to the perfect bow of her mouth. Rohan couldn’t see a single piece of evidence that she was his daughter.

It didn’t matter.

He could feel her, very faintly, thanks to the rudimentary familial bond they shared, a bond that was possible only between close blood relatives.

She was Rohan’s daughter.

She was his daughter.

Except she wasn’t. He had given up the right to be called her father before she was even born. As far as everyone was concerned, Tmynne was the daughter of Jamil and his deceased husband. The product of their grand love story.

Rohan felt his lips twist into a sneer and jerked his hand away from the child. He didn’t want her to feel his ugly emotions.

He shouldn’t havee here.

He still didn’t know why he had.

Liar. You know exactly why you’re here.

Rohan ignored the thought, watching the sleeping child.

He should go. He had been incredibly lucky to get into the palace without getting caught. Security was tighter than it had been last time. Had he not lived in this palace for a while, he wouldn’t have managed to get inside even with his gift forpulsion. He shouldn’t havee. He should have gone with Warrehn and Sirri. Now that he’d seen the child and satisfied his curiosity, he was going to leave.

Right. Who are you trying to fool here?

Rohan clenched his jaw. He looked at the door. He should leave now if he wanted to get to the forest by midnight.

He didn’t move.

At the back of his mind, the bond pulsed hungrily, strengthening by the moment.

Rohan watched the door, his pulse skyrocketing and his heart starting to pound.

He knew who was approaching the room. He knew it as well as his own name. He should get the hell out of here.

He didn’t move.

He waited.

The door slid open.

Jamil strode inside, locked the door, and said, looking at some point to Rohan’s right. “What are you doing here?”

Rohan drank him in.

Jamil looked awful. He wasn’t as thin as he’d been eleven standard months ago, but he looked pale and exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes.

He was still the best thing he’d ever seen.

Jamil cleared his throat a little, not meeting his gaze. “I repeat: what are you doing here? If you came to take Tmynne away—”

“If you really thought that, you would have called security already.” Rohan took a step forward, and then another one.

Jamil licked his lips, getting tenser by the moment. “You still didn’t say why you’re here.”

“I’m on Calluvia with a few of my friends. We have a lead that might—”

“I’m sure you’re on the pl on some very important rebel business,” Jamil said, his lips twisting. “What are you doing here?”

Rohan said nothing.

He had no explanation.

Silence fell over the room, the air thick with electric tension, like the atmosphere before a storm. Rohan felt himself move forward until he stopped in front of Jamil.

Jamil still wouldn’t look at him.

“Look at me,” Rohan said.

Jamil let out a chuckle. “I’d rather not. I seem to recall it being a bad idea, and I doubt anything has changed.”

He was right.

Of course he was right.

Rohan still wanted. It was selfish, reckless, and irresponsible, but he wanted to feel those beautiful green eyes on him, looking at him as if he were the only thing Jamil could see. It was an asshole thing to want, considering that he couldn’t stay, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Jamil,” Rohan said, his voice involuntarily dropping to an intimate murmur. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t,” Jamil said, his tight voice wavering. “Don’t do that. I’m finally fine—I don’t need this—why are you even here?”

“I wanted to see our daughter,” Rohan lied.

He didn’t miss the way Jamil’s breathing hitched at the words our daughter. He could feel through their bond that something about it appealed to Jamil. Something about it appealed to Rohan, too. Fucking hell, he really needed to leave.

“You saw her,” Jamil said, still avoiding his gaze. “Now leave.”

Rohan lifted his hand and brushed his thumb over the dark circles under Jamil’s eyes. His skin was so very soft and smooth. “You look awful, darling.”

Jamil let out a shaky laugh. “Thanks. Sleepless nights with a teething baby would do it to you.”

“You should take care of yourself, too,” Rohan said, cradling Jamil’s cheek gently. Now that he started touching him, he found that he couldn’t stop. It was addictive as hell.

“Don’t,” Jamil said breathlessly, his eyes slipping shut as Rohan’s hand stroked his cheek with his knuckles. His long, dark eyelashes attempted to lift but lowered again as a weak moan slipped out of his mouth. He was trembling, fine tremors running down his frame, his plush lips parted.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Rohan heard himself say. His voice sounded off—rough and intoxicated. He felt intoxicated, his thoughts muddled with that twisted, strange pull he always felt toward Jamil, just more intense. A year apart probably didn’t help.

“I thought I looked awful,” Jamil said with a small laugh.

“You’re lovely even when you look awful, sweetheart,” Rohan brushed his mouth against Jamil’s cheek. Breathed in. Fuck, if he could bottle up his scent, he would. “You do look very pale and sleep-deprived. You should take better care of yourself.” Part of him felt incredulous of the stuffing out of his mouth. Not that he was lying, but he generally wasn’t one for all this protective, gentle shit. He didn’t behave like this even with his girlfriends. In fact, his last girlfriend used him of being an insensitive asshole who wouldn’t recognize tenderness if it hit him in the face.

“I’m fine,” Jamil murmured, rubbing his cheek against Rohan’s mouth. “Stop. I can’t think.”

I can’t, either.

Rohan ran his greedy fingers through Jamil’s soft hair, massaging his scalp gently and watching Jamil’s lips part in bliss.

“I could stare at you all day,” Rohan said roughly, dropping another kiss to Jamil’s brow. To his nose. To his left cheek, and then to his right. To the corner of his lips.

A whine left Jamil’s mouth.

Jamil’s hands suddenly grabbed his shoulders, sliding up, to Rohan’s neck, and pulling him closer. Their mouths bumped together, all teeth and no finesse. It didn’t matter. Rohan wanted in. He wanted to fuse them together so that there was no space between them, put himself inside Jamil in every possible way.

As if hearing his thoughts—which was likely, since they were already sharing a shallow merge—Jamil parted his lips and allowed Rohan to slip his tongue inside. It wasn’t a kiss. It was a need, a burning need for closeness neither of them could satisfy. They were moaning into each other’s mouths, tongues moving together, teeth biting, lips sucking. It still wasn’t enough.

Rohan yanked Jamil’s cravat off and stroked his throat greedily, fingers skimming over his telepathic point, making Jamil shudder and suck on his tongue as Jamil’s core pulsated under Rohan’s fingers, hungry for his touch. Moaning, Jamil slipped his hands under Rohan’s shirt, his smooth palms stroking Rohan’s back, spreading warmth and hunger that was impossible to sate. Rohan had never felt better—or so frustrated—in his life. It just wasn’t enough. Angling Jamil’s head, he kissed him harder, deeper—

A chime of hismunicator broke through the haze in his head. No one was supposed to contact him. It was reserved for emergencies only. Rohan knew it must be important, but it still took far longer than it should have to stop licking into Jamil’s mouth.

Gathering all his willpower, Rohan tore himself away from Jamil and pulled hismunicator out. Glancing at the Caller ID, he cleared his throat and answered. “What is it, Sirri?”

“We got the apprentice, but something went wrong and now the forest is crawling with the monks!”

Rohan swore.

“Go to the Rigten safe house,” he said after a moment, as he gathered his thoughts. “It’s close enough to your location. You’ll have to lie low until the searches are stopped. We can’t let the TNIT teleport us from an unsafe location. There’s no doubt the teleportation traces are closely monitored now.”

“What about the boy?”

“What about him?” Rohan said impatiently. “Make sure he doesn’t contact his master. I’ll meet you at the Blind when the area is safe enough.”

“You aren’t joining us at the safe house?” Sirri said, her tone bing suspicious. “Just what exactly are you doing? Where are you?”

“It’s none of your business,” he said and hung up.

Turning back to Jamil, he found Jamil stroking his kiss-swollen lips absentmindedly.

Rohan stared. He had just kissed Jamil. Kissed. Put his tongue down another man’s throat. And loved every moment of it.

Blushing, Jamil crossed his arms over his chest and said, “Bad news?”

Rohan looked away from Jamil’s lips. “I need to lie low for a while. Can I stay for the night?”

Jamil’s brows knitted, his body radiating indecision.

“All right,” he said at last. “You’ll have to stay in my rooms. I had security of t