“I need to—I need to leave,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later, Mother.” He strode away from the Queen-Consort, ignoring her attempts to stop him. He needed to get away. He couldn’t see Rohan, not now, not in such a public setting. If he saw him now, there was a real risk that he would end up climbing him like a tree and consuming him, their surroundings be damned. He wished he were exaggerating, but he wasn’t. The mere possibility of being close to Rohan had him shaking, his heart and body aching with need, the bond pulsing hungrily at the back of his mind. No. He needed to leave. He was still a married man. He owed it to Mehmer to behave decently until their divorce was finalized.
Jamil pushed his way through the crowd, aware he was being extremely rude but just wanting to get to the nearest t-chamber as soon as possible.
“Are you running away from me?”
He came to an abrupt stop, staring unseeingly in front of him. Rohan’s mental voice was low and somewhat amused—and so achingly familiar that Jamil’s eyes stung from how good it felt to have him inside his mind again. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t a true merge, just a tease of it. He wanted—needed—more. He wanted to take Rohan’s mind and body inside his own and fuse them together until they could never, ever be separated again.
“Where are you?” Jamil asked dazedly, every thought about leaving forgotten. Where are you, where are you, where are you?
“Just behind you, sweetheart.”
Jamil whirled around and almost had a heart attack as the crowd parted and Rohan was suddenly right there, in front of him.
He looked… Jamil honestly had no idea how he looked. All he could see was Rohan’s dark eyes. He almost fell into them when Rohan suddenly brought his shields up.
“No, love, not here,” Rohan’s voice said in his head. “We can’t merge here. It would be too obvious.”
Jamil stared at him longingly, not understanding.
A pained grimace crossed Rohan’s face. “Dammit, don’t look at me that way. I’m only a man.” Glancing around, he bowed to Jamil belatedly. “Your Highness,” he said aloud. “It’s a pleasure to see you.”
Right. There were people around them. He should probably say something appropriately princely.
He couldn’t say a word. Jamil could speak eight Galactic languages perfectly without the translating chip, and yet he couldn’t utter a single word, painfully aware of the distance between them.
He could only nod, hoping the need eating his entire being wasn’t obvious on his face.
Rohan stared at him for a long moment, his eyes searing, before he bowed again and offered a hand. “Will you dance with me, Your Highness?”
Jamil licked his dry lips, his heart pounding somewhere in his throat and his stomach clenching in both delight and dread. He didn’t trust himself at all with Rohan’s arms around him, with Rohan’s scent in his nostrils. He might end up kissing him and feeling him up right there, in front of all society to see.
“I would like to get a breath of fresh air,” Jamil said. Distantly, he was aware that he was behaving inappropriately—he hadn’t looked away from Rohan’s eyes even for a moment, which was probably making gossipmongers incredibly happy. Jamil was perfectly aware of it, but he couldn’t make himself look away. He used to scoff when people said such things like ‘I could look into his eyes forever;’ now he fully understood the sentiment. Looking into Rohan’s black eyes felt intoxicating, making him warm and tingly on the inside, his body alive in every sense of the word.
“After you, Your Highness,” Rohan said, bowing slightly.
Tearing his gaze away, Jamil headed for the terrace, incredibly aware of the man walking behind him. Vaguely, he was also aware of the curious stares and whispers following him and Rohan, but at this moment, he couldn’t make himself care.
At last, after what seemed like forever, they left the crowded ballroom and stepped out onto the terrace. On any other day, Jamil would have admired it: the terrace of the Fifth Royal Palace was renowned for its scale and beauty. It went around the entire palace, offering the opportunity to admire the most beautiful flowers in the galaxy and incredible views of the cliffs and ocean below them. At the moment, Jamil couldn’t care less about the beauty surrounding them.
He walked along the terrace, until the noise of the ballroom was left far behind and the sound of their footsteps was the only thing he could hear.
Jamil stopped, leaning against the railings. He breathed in the fresh air, watching the waves batter the cliffs below them. He felt Rohan lean against the railings, too. Their shoulders brushed. Jamil bit his bottom lip hard, hoping it wasn’t obvious how badly he was shaking.