Although it had been his own choice, the lonely boy he had once been had resented the needy infant for forcing him to shield himself from his familial bonds, too.
Guilt was a peculiar thing. It could twist itself into irrational resentment and dislike quite easily.
He had managed to avoid the young Prince Seyn for as long as he could: fourteen years.
Meeting him in person for the first time had been an unwelcome reminder that the needy, hurt presence at the back of his mind was a real person—a teenager with huge green eyes full of resentment and hope, whose mind still begged for his attention.
It had been aggravating. Ksar had thought he was no longer capable of feeling guilt, and it had been irritating when the sharp-tongued boy proved him wrong in that regard. Guilt wasn’t an emotion Ksar had ever been particularly fond of.
But it wasn’t irritation that had made him be rude to the brat. His rudeness had always been carefully calculated. Seyn couldn’t find out that there was something wrong with the bond, so making Seyn think that Ksar had been neglecting their bond—and Seyn—on purpose all these years had been the only course of action he could have taken. Acting like an asshole was also supposed to discourage Seyn from wanting to be anywhere near him, which would reduce the chances of his learning the truth.
It had worked the way he had planned. His condescending, borderline rude attitude ensured that Seyn wanted nothing to do with him and remained oblivious about the state of their bond.
But there was a factor Ksar hadn’t taken into account, something he hadn’t expected at all: as Seyn grew older, he had trouble ignoring Seyn as he was supposed to.
Ksar had watched uneasily as his bondmate transformed from a mouthy boy into a beautiful, spirited young man. It was incredibly ironic that the brat who had been the bane of his existence, the one person who could ruin his life and career, the one person who hated him more than anything, the one person who would never look at him with something other than rage and hatred even if he knew the truth, was the personification of everything Ksar wanted—and couldn’t have.
It didn’t exactly help that with each passing year that brought them closer to Seyn’s twenty-fifth birthday, Ksar could no longer avoid thinking about what he was going to do when the time for their marriage ceremony came. He’d always known that his options were very limited. In fact, he had exactly one feasible option: to mess with Seyn’s mind—and the mind adept who performed the bonding ceremony—and make Seyn think their marriage bond was perfectly functional.
The thought had never failed to put Ksar in a foul mood. Although he had never claimed to be a good man and had done his share of manipulating people for political gain, he’d never been keen to manipulate Seyn’s mind. It had always been an option he’d ignored. He could have manipulated Seyn’s memories and made him think that Ksar had been a perfectly nice, considerate bondmate all along, which would have been the path of least resistance if he hadn’t found the idea so distasteful. It was enough that his perceived rejection made the boy feel neglected; he wanted to avoid outright manipulating Seyn’s mind unless it absolutely couldn’t be helped.
Forcing Seyn to believe that they had a marriage bond—and forcing him to share Ksar’s bed as a result—had never been something he looked forward to. He might not be a good man, and sometimes he might have been infinitely tempted to stuff that mouthy little shit with his cock, but he wasn’t a fucking rapist. And for all intents and purposes, that would be rape. Brainwashing and rape. A man’s sexual fantasies had nothing to do with reality.
And the reality of the situation was that Seyn had always made him feel like one sick bastard for everything he had done to him, everything he would do, and everything his body wanted to do to him. Needless to say, he’d always felt conflicted and snappish whenever Seyn was around.
But now Seyn knew the truth. Seyn was no longer bonded to him. There was no need to ever brainwash him—because there would be no marriage.
It should have been a relief. It was. And it wasn’t.
Ksar pushed the thought away, suppressing his frustration and irritation. One would think that breaking Seyn’s bond would stop making him feel so conflicted, but it had made things more complicated, just in a different way.
But it was neither the time nor the place to be thinking about Seyn. He also wasn’t going to think about the way Seyn had looked at him a little while ago: with that disgusting faith in his eyes, as if he believed there was nothing Ksar couldn’t do if he put his mind to it. That faith might have been subconscious, but it was still there, and Seyn had no business looking at him like that when he claimed that he couldn’t wait to be completely free of him so that he could have sex with people he actually wanted. For someone who loathed him, Seyn had too much faith in his ability to perform miracles.