zebi6.cc 
And then Rohan cursed so elaborately it would have made Jamil blush had he not been so worried. Rohan sprang away from him as though burned and rolled off the bed.
Jamil sat up and watched him pace the room agitatedly.
“It’s a bond,” Rohan said at last, his jaw working. Gone was the teasing, infuriatingly unflappable man Jamil had come to know. He was beginning to realize he’d never seen Rohan truly angry. He was angry now. Rohan’s mouth was a thin straight line and a vein throbbed in his temple. Rohan glared at him, raking a hand through his short hair, anger rolling off him in thick, suffocating waves.
“Why are you looking at me like it’s my fault?”
Rohan chuckled harshly, turning away. “How are you so calm about this?”
Jamil shrugged, sitting up. “I’m not calm. But I don’t understand why you’re so angry. I’m sure this… accidental bond will break in no time or you will break it yourself. It’s very thin, nothing like my bond to Mehmer was.”
Although Rohan didn’t disagree with him aloud, Jamil could still feel his agitation.
“I need to get into Dalatteya’s palace as soon as possible,” Rohan said in a clipped voice. “And then I’ll be out of your hair, Your Highness.”
Jamil flinched. He crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly feeling chilly. “All right,” he said after a moment. “I have an idea—it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a few days, actually.”
“What idea?” Rohan said, without looking at him.
He didn’t like it.
He didn’t like it when Rohan didn’t look at him.
Jamil frowned, more than a little disturbed by his own thoughts. “A few days ago, Dalatteya sent me the old reports on her nephews’ kidnapping.”
Rohan’s broad shoulders tensed. “And?”
“According to those reports, her nephews were attacked by the rebels within one tarsec of where Mehmer was killed,” Jamil said, watching Rohan carefully. “What a coincidence, isn’t it?”
Slowly, Rohan turned around. “Where are you going with this?”
Jamil cocked his head to the side, perversely enjoying the way Rohan’s eyes immediately went to his neck—to the hickeys on his telepathic point. Regardless of his constant use of dermal regenerators, Jamil always seemed to end up with an assortment of old and new hickeys there. Rohan may not want him, but he was as helpless against their unnatural connection as Jamil was. It felt oddly satisfying to know that.
“I just find it curious that out of all possible places, the two princes of the Fifth Grand Clan and the prince-consort of the Third Grand Clan were supposedly attacked by the rebels within one tarsec from each other. The Kavalchi Mountains are thousands of tarsecs long. What are the odds?”
Something shifted across Rohan’s face. “What are you hinting at? You seem to have figured it all out. Let’s hear it.” He ran a hand over his stubbled jaw. His black eyes remained on Jamil, intense and penetrating.
Once again, Jamil was disturbed by how much he enjoyed it: having Rohan’s focus on him and him only.
Gods, this was getting out of hand.
“I’m not sure yet,” he said. “All I know is that you haven’t told me something. Something important. And you can’t expect me to help you if I don’t have all the information.” He was proud of how rational his voice sounded. His voice hadn’t betrayed that he felt stupidly hurt. It was ridiculous. Rohan was nothing to him. He’d known him for seventeen days. He shouldn’t be hurt by his lack of trust. It shouldn’t feel like a betrayal.
But it did.
“I already told you more than I should have,” Rohan said, his tone vaguely uncomfortable and annoyed. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“This!” Rohan gesticulated toward Jamil’s face, as if it personally offended him. “This hurt, sad kitten face you’re putting on. It makes me—it drives me crazy.”
Jamil’s eyebrows flew up. His first instinct was to say that he definitely wasn’t acting like a sad kitten, thank you very much, but then he paused as it occurred to him what exactly it meant. They’d known each other for seventeen days. Just as Jamil shouldn’t feel hurt by Rohan’s lack of trust, Rohan shouldn’t be so affected by the fact that Jamil felt hurt. They both were reacting strangely to each other, acting like people who’d known each other for years instead of days.
It was odd.
Scratch that, it was pure madness.
“You said the intimacy people feel during a merge doesn’t affect the real life,” Jamil said faintly.
Rohan’s shoulders tensed up. He didn’t even need to ask what he meant.
Heavens, they really had a problem.
Sighing, Rohan sat down beside him. “It shouldn’t. It doesn’t normally.”
“Well,” Jamil said dryly. “Clearly there’s nothing normal about this.”
They were silent for a long while, not looking at each other.
Jamil chuckled, looking at his own hands. “This is so ridiculous,” he whispered. “I really want you to hold my hand.” He actually had to ball his fingers into fists to stop himself from reaching out.
Rohan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know.”
“This is messed up.”
Rohan laughed, the sound sharp and hollow. “Putting it mildly.”
“Do you think it’s the bond?”
Rohan gave a shrug. “Maybe. Probably. I don’t know.” His lips twisted into a crooked smile as he shot Jamil a sideways look. “I don’t know everything, Jamil. This is new for me, too.”
Jamil found himself returning the smile helplessly.
Rohan stared at him. “You’re so ridiculously pretty,” he said before grimacing. “I used to wish you were a woman so that I could fuck this out of my system.”
Jamil wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or flattered. He settled on insulted. “Your assumption that I would have sex with you is unbelievably arrogant.”
Rohan smiled humorlessly. “Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. We both know we’d be fucking all day long if you were a woman.”
Jamil glared at him, his face hot.
Rohan shook his head. “Anyway, as I said, I used to wish that. Now I’m glad you aren’t a woman.” His thumb brushed against Jamil’s warm cheek. “It’s bad enough already without sex in the mix.”
Refusing to think about what that meant, Jamil decided to change the subject. “So are you going to tell me why both crimes were committed so close to each other?”
“Considering that the rebels weren’t the ones who committed them, your guess is as good as mine.”
“Don’t lie to me. Please.”
