Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Warrehn gave a clipped nod.
“See, it’ll be all right,” Ayda said with a smile, but even she didn’t sound all that sure.
“Could you leave us alone, please?” Sirri asked her.
“Of course,” Ayda said. She looked at Warrehn and bowed. “Your Majesty.”
He didn’t even glance at her.
“You’re so rude,” Sirri said when the door closed behind Ayda.
He didn’t say anything, his handsome face grim and closed-off.
Sighing, Sirri walked over and put her hand on his shoulders. “War, listen,” she said, looking him in the eyes. “In all seriousness, I get it: he’s the son of your parents’ murderer and it must be disgusting to come to your senses and find yourself balls deep in him—I really get it. But beating yourself up over something you have no control over is pointless. Loosen up. You’re so tense I feel like I’m standing next to a bomb that’s about to go off. Let it go. It isn’t your fault. Your attraction to him isn’t real.”
Warrehn averted his gaze, a muscle jumping in his cheek as he clenched his jaw.
Sirri stared at him, stunned. “You want him,” she said slowly as the realization hit. Although she had tried to rile him up about ogling Prince Samir on the court day, it had been a joke. She hadn’t truly thought Warrehn wanted Dalatteya’s son, knowing his deep hatred for her and anything hers. “You wanted him before the whole ordeal.”
He glared at her, the force of it making her want to step back. She gritted her teeth and stayed where she was. She wouldn’t back off just because he was a man twice her size and could do some serious damage to her brain if he wanted to.
“It was a superficial, fleeting attraction I would have never acted on,” he said.
She wasn’t sure she believed him. He was being too defensive, too guilty and stressed over the whole thing for it to be some superficial attraction.
But for his sake, she hoped he wasn’t lying.
Because if he really wanted Dalatteya’s son… it would be a disaster of epic proportions.
Before she could say anything, he said with a sigh, “I need some air.”
He walked out, leaving her highly unsettled.
And scared.
***
Warrehn stared at the surface of the lake unseeingly.
If you were so principled, you’d kick us out of your home, public opinion be damned.
Damn him. Even more than an hour later, despite his meeting with the publicist and Sirri, those dark blue eyes glaring at him hatefully were still at the forefront of his mind.
I guess you’re an “honest person” only when it suits you.
Warrehn threw a pebble into the lake and watched it bounce a few times before sinking into the unknown depths. He felt a little like that, too. Drowning, unsure where the way up was.
Away from Samir and his disconcerting effect on him, Warrehn could see that he’d behaved like a toxic ass around him. The things he’d said—he’d never said stuff like that to men he’d fucked, even when they were actual professional whores. But around Samir it was like he couldn’t control what was coming out of his mouth at all.
He had burned to put Samir in his place—and that place was beneath him, in every way that mattered.
His own obsessive, toxic thoughts disturbed him.
Maybe it was the drug. A side effect, one of many. Just like the itchy feeling building under his skin right now. Growing. Wanting.
Warrehn took in a deep, calming breath. It had been just an hour and a half. He had better self-control than that. Samir was Dalatteya’s son, and everything that entailed. He was treacherous and poisonous, no matter how gorgeous he was or how pretty his pink lips looked.
They’d look even better wrapped around his cock as Samir choked on it, looking up at him with wet, pleading eyes.
Warrehn gritted his teeth, his cock aching.
His communicator went off and he answered, glad for the distraction. He needed all the distraction in the world right now. “Yes?” he bit off.
“I was going to ask if everything was fine, but it seems the answer is no,” Rohan said dryly.
Warrehn took another deep breath and let it out slowly, his shoulders relaxing at the sound of his friend’s voice—though Rohan was more of a brother than a friend. They had grown up together ever since Warrehn had become an unwilling guest in Rohan’s home. Warrehn might have resented Rohan’s father for not letting him leave Tai’Lehr, but he could never bring himself to resent Rohan when he was always there for him, an older brother figure who had remained patient with him despite Warrehn’s numerous attempts to escape.
“I know you want to go home,” an eighteen-year-old Rohan had said a year into Warrehn’s involuntary stay on Tai’Lehr, his black eyes solemn as he held Warrehn’s gaze. “I get it that you want to avenge your family. But look: escaping is pointless. You’re just eleven. No one will take your accusations seriously. You’re a child in the eyes of the law—and you’d be entirely in the regent’s power even if you were to return home. Wait until you’re old enough—but use that time wisely. Dalatteya’il’zaver is said to be a very smart, cunning woman. She’ll crush you politically right now if you go back as a child or she will just have you killed. You’ll need to learn how to be heard if you want to succeed when you go back.”