Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
With a pained grimace, Samir glanced around and then smiled. “People are watching. You should smile.”
“I don’t really feel like smiling right now,” Warrehn said, but to Rohan’s astonishment, he forced a faint, twisted smile onto his lips. His body was still stiff with tension and suppressed anger, but he was smiling.
Rohan looked at Prince Samir with new eyes, not sure whether to be pleased or alarmed. He’d always wished for his friend to meet someone who would soften his rough edges and serve as a calming influence for him, but he didn’t think that person should be Dalatteya’s son.
Prince Samir smiled wider at Warrehn and carefully laid his hand on Warrehn’s elbow. “Come. Walk with me.”
“Samir,” Dalatteya said sharply, but her son ignored her and led Warrehn out to the nearest balcony, leaving people staring after them and whispering in their wake.
***
“Out,” Warrehn said flatly, and the three young men conversing on the balcony scrambled to comply, muttering Your Majesty under their breaths.
It would be amusing if it weren’t so exasperating—and if Samir didn’t have more important things to worry about.
“Did you have to be that rude?” Samir chided softly as the balcony doors closed after the young men. “They’ll gossip.”
Warrehn crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the door, his handsome face hard and unforgiving. “I don’t care. Explain yourself.”
Samir stepped closer and put his hand on Warrehn’s chest. “War—”
“Don’t,” Warrehn said, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “Don’t touch me.”
It shouldn’t have hurt. It shouldn’t have made his chest feel hollow and achy.
“Stop that,” Warrehn ground out, looking at him with a tight, sour expression. “You have no right to look that way—so hurt—it makes me—” He cut himself off, radiating frustration with every line of his tall body.
Biting his lip, Samir wrapped his arms around himself. “Mother told me that the drug was gone from my system a few days ago,” he said quietly. “I did intend to tell you, I truly did. But I…” He trailed off, his face becoming warm.
“You what?”
Screw it.
Samir stepped forward and looped his arms around Warrehn’s waist, ignoring his hostile glare.
“I said don’t touch me,” Warrehn gritted out, his gaze a mix of fury and endearing confusion.
Samir wanted to kiss him, badly.
He didn’t. Instead, he put his head under Warrehn’s chin and hugged him harder, ignoring Warrehn’s attempts to dislodge him. It was nothing like their usual cuddles in bed—it was like hugging an unresponsive statue—but it still brought him some comfort, feeling Warrehn’s firm body against him and smelling his scent.
“Stop this,” Warrehn said tersely. “Stop doing this and explain yourself.”
“This is me explaining myself,” Samir said into Warrehn’s neck. “I couldn’t give this up. You made me addicted to this, so this is all your fault.”
Warrehn gave a harsh chuckle. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe this lousy explanation.”
“You’ll have to, because it’s the only one you’re going to get. I don’t have another. This is the truth.”
“I don’t believe you,” Warrehn said, but his body was no longer as stiff and unwelcoming as it had been.
Samir rubbed his nose against Warrehn’s throat. “You’re welcome to read my mind if you don’t believe me.”
“Memories and thoughts can be forged,” Warrehn said.
Samir lifted his head. “Not in a merge. I’ve heard you can’t lie in a merge.”
A deep wrinkle appeared between Warrehn’s brows. “No,” he said curtly, his tone final. “I’m not doing that.” Despite his harsh tone, his body relaxed further against Samir’s, his hands coming to rest on Samir’s lower back.
“Why?” Samir said with a small smile. “Because it’s too intimate?”
“Because telepathic merges are illegal,” Warrehn said. “I wouldn’t put it past your mother to accuse me of illegally merging with you to get me arrested and declared unsuitable to rule.”
Samir blinked. “I hadn’t even thought of it,” he said, a little surprised that such a scheme had occurred to Warrehn first. “I’m not conspiring with my mother, Warrehn. If I were, why would she expose that the drug is gone from our systems, making me look like a liar? She’s worried I have gotten attached to you.”
Warrehn gave him a long look, his gaze unreadable.
“Are you claiming that you are?” he said in a clipped voice. “Attached.”
Samir bit the inside of his cheek, gathering up his courage. He whispered, “Are you claiming that you aren’t?” He looked pointedly at the lack of space between them, at Warrehn’s arms around him, before meeting Warrehn’s gaze. “The last few days, it wasn’t the drug, Warrehn. It was us. You and me. Nothing else.”
Warrehn’s throat worked. His hands on Samir’s lower back flexed. “I don’t—I can’t trust you.”
Samir felt a crushing wave of sadness. His eyes were suddenly burning.
This was hopeless. He’d always known how hopeless this thing between them was, but it hit him differently now. They could never be anything, no matter how good—how right—being in Warrehn’s arms felt. Lack of trust would make any relationship between them impossible, regardless of their feelings. He couldn’t even blame Warrehn for not trusting him; he wouldn’t trust himself if their situations were reversed, either. His mother had killed Warrehn’s parents and wanted to remove him from the throne and Samir wasn’t going to do anything to help Warrehn prove her guilt.