Ksar refused to be swayed. “Get your things, both of you. Leave nothing behind. You’re not coming back. We’re leaving.”
A sickening wave of pain and heartbreak filled the room.
Seyn made a sympathetic sound and put an arm around Harht’s shoulders, glowering at Ksar. “How can you be so fucking cruel to your own bother? You bastard!”
Ksar’s lips twisted into a derisive smile. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were a low-bred son of a Sarvakhu whore, not a scion of kings. Mind your foul tongue, kid.”
Seyn scowled. “Don’t you call me kid!”
“What should I call a spoiled child?” Ksar said dismissively, well aware how much Seyn hated being referred to as a kid. In truth, that was the only reason he called Seyn that. He didn’t see Seyn as a child.
It would have been so much easier if he did.
Ksar watched Seyn’s cheeks turn pink, his green eyes flashing with rage—and wished his body didn’t like the sight so much.
It was pathetic. He wasn’t an animal. He was more than his baser instincts. His body’s reaction to that spoiled little thing was beyond irritating and inconvenient.
“And you’re the adult here, huh?” Seyn said with a scoff, scowling so prettily Ksar wanted to shove his cock between those plush pink lips.
Grimacing on the inside, Ksar said, “I admit I shouldn’t stoop to your level, but—”
“I love him,” Harht whispered. “Doesn’t that matter?”
Ksar tore his gaze away from Seyn and stared at his brother’s crushed face.
Seyn sighed. “I’m so sorry, Harry.”
Harht didn’t look at Seyn. He was looking at Ksar. “Don’t my feelings matter?” His voice wavered and broke on the last word, and he stared at Ksar the way he used to in his childhood: as if his big brother couldn’t possibly disappoint him.
Ksar pursed his lips, at that moment absolutely hating Harht for forcing him to be the villain. It was a role he was well accustomed to, but normally not with his family.
“You don’t love him,” he said testily. “What you feel is infatuation. You aren’t used to the lack of bond. Everything is new for you. You have too many feelings you don’t know how to handle. It will pass.”
Harht shook his head. “I need him,” he said, looking Ksar in the eye. “I need him with my mind, with my heart, and with my body.”
Seyn made a choking sound, but Harht didn’t look embarrassed. He looked determined. Desperate.
Ksar’s jaw tightened. “You’re confusing lust with love,” he said. “You’re too young and inexperienced to know the difference.”
“Wait,” Seyn cut in sharply. “What is that supposed to mean? How do you know the difference?”
“That’s none of your concern.” Ksar carefully avoided Seyn’s eyes. It was illogical to feel guilty over this. Seyn wasn’t even his real bondmate. They were nothing to each other. Seyn wanted nothing to do with him. Where Ksar chose to put his cock didn’t affect Seyn one way or another.
Because Seyn would never be his—not really.
Pushing that irrelevant thought away, Ksar looked at his brother. “Do you think he loves you, Harht? I saw his mind.”
Harht opened his mouth and closed it, uncertainty flashing across his face.
“He is rather besotted with you,” Ksar admitted reluctantly. He preferred not to lie to his family—more than he did on a regular basis. “But the person he’s besotted with is a cute, quirky human he met at a coffee shop, not a freaky telepathic alien. You underestimate how much the truth would change his feelings for you.”
“You don’t know that,” Seyn said.
“I do,” Ksar said, still looking at his brother. “I’ve witnessed quite a few Contacts with secluded civilizations like Terrans. Most of the time they go horribly bad. Xenophobia aside, non-telepathic races tend to be very distrustful of telepaths. They don’t like aliens who can mess with their minds and make them do their bidding.”
“I’m sure the fact that you messed with Adam’s mind wouldn’t help now,” Seyn said snidely.
“No, it wouldn’t,” Ksar said, forcing himself not to look at Seyn. Getting into another pointless argument with Seyn was a distraction he didn’t need right now. “So even if I let you tell him, his reaction would crush you, Harht. I don’t want you to be hurt.”
“You’re already hurting me,” Harht said quietly, his eyelashes moist. “Please,” he said, looking Ksar in the eye and opening his mind to him, letting Ksar see. He loved Adam, he needed Adam, and he couldn’t imagine never seeing him again, never feeling his arms around him, or Adam’s lips whispering endearments into his ear as they cuddled on the couch, or Adam’s hands stroking all over his body—
Making a face, Ksar broke the eye contact and said, “This conversion is pointless. You can’t remain unbonded. We need to restore your bond to Leylen’shni’gul as soon as possible.”
“Why?”
Ksar frowned, remembering the uncomfortable conversation he’d had with Leylen and her parents. “Your bondmate and her parents came to the palace soon after you left. They reported that Leylen’shni’gul stopped feeling you in her mind. She still has the bond, but it’s faulty and weak now. I reassured them that it was simply due to the distance between you and her, but they’re getting nervous and suspicious, especially since no one knows where you are. We need to restore your bond before they report it to the Council.”