“I want you gone,” Jamil whispered, twisting the knife further. “I don’t want to see you anywhere near me.” He let out a harsh laugh, dropping his gaze again. “I can’t have you anywhere near me. I’m not strong enough.”
Time seemed to stop.
Rohan stared at him.
Slowly, he reached up and took Jamil’s chin into his hand. He tipped his face up, forcing Jamil to look at him.
Jamil shuddered, his nostrils flaring as their gazes met again. “Don’t touch me. Please. I’m weak.”
The very air between them seemed to thicken, making it hard to breathe. Rohan could hear his own unsteady breathing, or maybe it was Jamil’s.
Closing his eyes, Rohan leaned their foreheads against each other. Their bond sang from their proximity, clouding his thoughts with subtle pleasure. Even the bond inhibitor couldn’t work well when they were touching.
“Maybe we can be weak together,” he said hoarsely.
A small sound left Jamil’s lips. “Please don’t,” he whispered, even as his hands clutched the front of Rohan’s shirt. “I can’t.”
Rohan looked down at Jamil’s parted lips. “Do you want to?”
Jamil shuddered. Rohan could feel wetness on his face. Tears, he realized with a sinking feeling.
“Shh,” Rohan said, his throat uncomfortably thick with emotion. He wrapped Jamil in his arms and pulled him against his chest. “I’m here, I’ve got you—please, love, don’t cry.”
Jamil clung to him—there was no other word for it. Rohan’s ribs hurt from that deathly grip, but he suspected he was holding Jamil just as tightly. It still wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough. This felt like a stolen moment, a goodbye.
Rohan bit the inside of his cheek, staring unseeingly in front of him.
No.
No, dammit. It wasn’t a goodbye. He wouldn’t let it to be, not this time.
“Come with me,” he heard himself say. The moment he said it, he knew it was right. He could feel the rightness of it.
“What?”
“Come with me,” Rohan repeated firmly. “You belong with me, not him. You know it. You and Tmynne—you’re mine. Come with me, to Tai’Lehr.”
Jamil was very still against him.
Rohan waited, bracing himself for Jamil’s refusal. He fully expected Jamil to say that he was a future king. He expected Jamil to say that he couldn’t just leave everything he’d been raised for, everything he’d worked for all his life. He expected Jamil to say that he couldn’t leave his husband and his family.
But what Jamil said was, “That would definitely mean war. You’re the governor of Tai’Lehr. You represent your people. Your own people wouldn’t understand you, wouldn’t forgive you for risking your reputation—risking everything—for me.”
Rohan’s heart started beating somewhere in his throat. It wasn’t a no. He wasn’t hearing a no. “My people would understand. Calluvian childhood bonds are considered an abomination on Tai’Lehr, something unnatural and forced. A marriage that is based on a childhood bond isn’t exactly respected, either.”
Jamil’s hand clenched his shirt. “You would lose all credibility. The Council wouldn’t even listen to your arguments when you go to them. They might arrest you on the spot.”
“To hell with the Council,” Rohan said, pulling back a little to look at Jamil. “If your mother doesn’t support us, the Council’s cooperation is unlikely anyway.” He searched Jamil’s face. “Forget about the Council. This isn’t about the Council and Tai’Lehr. This is about you and me. Can you choose me?”
Jamil’s throat worked. “And then what? We live in sin?”
Unable to stop himself, Rohan kissed the spot beside Jamil’s mouth. “If this is sin, I don’t care,” he said harshly. “You’re the light of my life. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want.” He pressed their foreheads together. “I don’t fucking care about some document that says you belong to another man. You belong with me. This is right. Can’t you feel it?”
“It doesn’t matter what I feel,” Jamil said, his voice cracking. “I can’t leave with you. I want to, but I can’t. I can’t do it to you. No matter what you say, that would ruin everything for Tai’Lehrians. No one in the Council would respect a man who stole another man’s lawful spouse, who violated the sanctity of marriage. You are not thinking clearly now, but later, you almost certainly will regret it. I won’t do it to you—to us. I can’t.”
Rohan closed his eyes, his chest tightening painfully. There was finality in Jamil’s voice. Jamil wouldn’t budge on this.
He pulled back and looked Jamil in the eye. “But I love you.”
Jamil’s eyes filled with tears. He opened his mouth and then closed it without saying anything. His throat worked. His green eyes seemed to burn with ethereal light, intense and all-consuming. Rohan couldn’t look away. He could look into them forever.
“I love you, too,” Jamil whispered, barely audibly, and stepped away, his whole being radiating defeat.
Rohan had never thought hearing a love confession from Jamil would make him feel so wretched. He wanted to punch someone. He wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all. Most of all, he wanted to grab Jamil and their daughter and take them to Lehr Manor, where they belonged.