Once Upon a Time (Calluvia's Royalty 3)

“Fine,” Jamil said. “Sorry for asking. It was stupid of me—I don’t even know how healthy you are. Mother has already found a perfect candidate anyway.”

Rohan’s hands tightened on his arms. “No.”

Jamil’s eyebrows furrowed. “No?”

Heaving a frustrated sigh, Rohan said testily, “Never mind. I can’t think straight when you’re so close.” But he didn’t make an attempt to pull away.

“You’re sending really mixed signals, you know,” Jamil said.

Rohan snorted. “I know. It’s like there are two of me in my head right now. One knows what a terrible idea it is, the other…”

“The other?”

“The other is a possessive ass who wants to give you what no other man has ever given you.” He groaned into Jamil’s nape. “Fucking hell, this is ridiculous. I don’t even want to fuck you. What have you done to me, sweetheart?”

Jamil turned his head and Rohan’s lips skimmed over his cheek, causing him to shiver and lose his train of thought for a moment. “Is that a yes?”

“Apparently,” Rohan said, nibbling on the skin of his telepathic point.

Jamil keened, shuddering in Rohan’s arms as Rohan slipped inside him. I’m gonna give you a baby so that you’ll never forget me.

It wasn’t a direct thought, just a strong impression he got from Rohan before Rohan wrenched himself away, both physically and mentally.

Disoriented from the sudden end of the merge, Jamil turned around.

“Sorry,” Rohan said, his expression pinched. “I didn’t mean to do that.” He let out a short laugh. “It’s becoming increasingly obvious that I need to get away from you. Just give me the name of the genetic center and your geneticist and I’ll do the rest.”

“Eipent’tak Genetic Center, Doctor Tuvok,” Jamil heard himself say, as though in a daze. His mind was still pulsing with raw need, reaching out for Rohan’s hungrily. The merge had been too brief. He wanted more.

Rohan’s expression became tight. “Please stop that,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I have to go, Jamil. But I’ll do what you want.”

Jamil blinked, Rohan’s words finally sinking in.

“Thank you,” he said when Rohan started turning away.

Rohan paused and looked at him for a long moment, his frustrated expression softening. “Just—be happy, okay?”

Jamil forced out a smile. “I will.”

His smile faded as the door slid shut, leaving him in a silent room.

He hadn’t known silence could be so loud.

And so empty.

Chapter 13

It was strange that no one else seemed to notice Rohan’s absence. The zywern had a new trainer, and no one seemed to wonder where Jamil’s new manservant was—if anyone in the palace had even noticed that he’d had a manservant for a brief time. Rationally, he knew that Rohan must have changed memories of those who remembered him, but it still seemed surreal that no one had noticed his sudden disappearance.

It was like he had never even existed.

Sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, Jamil wondered if he’d just hallucinated everything.

But no, the thin golden thread around his telepathic core was very real, no matter how raw and stretched it felt.

Seventeen days.

A little over half a month. It seemed so ridiculous to be so affected by Rohan’s absence when he’d known him for half a month. Ridiculous and embarrassing. It wasn’t as though he’d fallen in love with Rohan or something. He’d just gotten… a little attached. Or more than a little. Jamil couldn’t even look at Mehmer’s portrait anymore, shame and guilt twisting his stomach every time. He had to remind himself that he hadn’t betrayed Mehmer’s memory—that nothing had really happened, that he hadn’t wanted anything to happen—but it was futile.

The fact of the matter was, no matter how he dressed it up, Jamil missed the man he’d known for seventeen days more than he missed the husband he’d shared years of his life with.

It made him feel so dirty.

That was how Jamil found himself watching holovid after holovid of Mehmer, trying to remember how much he loved his husband, how much he missed him. He did remember, of course. He remembered how much he had adored Mehmer’s soft laugh and slightly inappropriate sense of humor. He remembered how much he had loved Mehmer’s optimism and easy-going nature. Mehmer had been beautiful, wonderful, and easy to love.

Mehmer still wasn’t the man Jamil thought about all the damn time.

He wasn’t the man Jamil wanted back, badly.

It felt like the worst sort of betrayal, even though nothing had really happened between Rohan and him.

Nothing? What about a dozen illegal merges you’ve engaged in with him? Or the fact that you masturbated in his presence, like a shameless harlot? Or the fact that sometimes you dream of a thick, dark cock that definitely doesn’t belong to your late husband?

Flushing, Jamil pushed the thought away. He wasn’t responsible for his dreams. He refused to feel guilty about his dreams.

“Your Highness?”

Jamil flinched at the sound of the AI’s voice. “Yes, Omer?”