Suddenly he felt such an unnatural, blessed silence that Seyn nearly jumped in surprise.
“You’re a mess,” a familiar voice said in his head. “If you don’t get better at controlling yourself, it’s only a matter of time before you give yourself away.”
Seyn closed his eyes for a moment before turning his head toward the first row where royal members of the largest grand clans sat. He glared when his gaze met Ksar’s. “Get out of my head,” he thought as loudly as he could, his eyes roaming over Ksar’s formal attire. The bastard looked unfairly good in his House colors, his signet ring glinting on his little finger.
Ksar’s lips curled slightly. “I’m the one keeping you from having a very public breakdown.”
As much as he hated it, Ksar was entirely correct. The knowledge ate at him, but Seyn wasn’t an idiot to reject help.
Correctly interpreting his silence for the reluctant agreement it was, Ksar told him, “It’s tiring for me to keep extending my shields to you across the room. Come over here.”
Eyeing him suspiciously—since when had Ksar offered help voluntarily?—Seyn walked toward him, ignoring some curious stares. Thankfully, most people had their eyes on the marriage ceremony and he attracted relatively little attention as he made his way to where Ksar sat with his family.
Upon reaching them, Seyn gave a bow to Ksar’s family, receiving a polite smile from Ksar’s father, a sharp look from Queen Tamirs and a curious look from Princess Sanyash, who looked very beautiful and very pregnant.
Finally, he turned to Ksar and gave him a shallow bow that was more like a nod. He smiled innocently when Ksar’s silver eyes narrowed.
“Sit,” Ksar said curtly, gesturing to the empty seat beside him.
The empty seat that shouldn’t have been there, actually.
Frowning, Seyn took the seat and murmured, “Where’s Harry?”
Ksar gave a slight shrug.
“You don’t know?” Seyn said, incredulous. Ksar usually made it his business to know everything; he was the biggest control freak Seyn knew.
“I believe he’s moping and I have no patience for that.”
Seyn shook his head. “You’re such a bastard. He’s your brother.”
There was a barely noticeable tension at the corners of Ksar’s mouth. “Our family affairs are none of your concern.”
Seyn studied him, suddenly wondering if the seemingly heartless bastard was feeling a bit guilty for making his brother miserable.
Leaning close to Ksar’s ear, he murmured, “Guilt is an uncomfortable feeling, isn’t it?”
Ksar stiffened.
He turned his head, and a shiver ran up Seyn’s spine when he felt Ksar’s breath on his lips. It was…disconcerting.
“If I should feel guilty, then so should you,” Ksar said softly. “I’m not the one who dragged him back to Earth and gave him a false hope.”
Seyn spluttered in indignation. “It’s not the same and you know it!” he hissed, grabbing Ksar’s arm. Heavens, he wanted to kill him, wanted to wrap his hands around that muscular throat and—and—
“Ahem,” came a delicate cough from behind them.
Seyn flinched, only now realizing how close he and Ksar had been.
Pulling back, he looked at Princess Sanyash, who was looking between Seyn and her brother with something like bemusement on her face.
“You are making a scene, brother,” she said quietly. “I can’t believe I’m saying it, but behave yourself. People are staring.”
Ksar gave a clipped nod without even glancing at his sister, his heavy gaze still on Seyn.
For no damn reason, Seyn blushed, unable to hold Ksar’s gaze for more than a few moments but also unable to stop looking back at him.
What was wrong with him?
“It’s called attraction, you little idiot,” Ksar’s dismissive voice sounded in his head.
Seyn scowled at him. He had a horrible suspicion that Ksar was right, but everything in him rebelled at the idea. He couldn’t possibly be attracted to that asshole. Seyn hated him, despised everything about him. He couldn’t be attracted to him.
Ksar shot him a flat look. “I told you: it’s entirely possible to be attracted to someone one dislikes—or I wouldn’t possibly be attracted to a mouthy, disrespectful brat like you.”
“Fuck you. And stop reading my mind, you creep.”
“Besides,” Ksar told him in his head, as if Seyn hadn’t said anything. “Considering that as far as your body is concerned, it’s been sex-deprived for years, it’s not surprising that you’re eager for sex.”
“I’m not eager for sex,” Seyn hissed out, barely audibly. “Not with you!”
Ksar lifted his eyebrows a little and shifted his gaze pointedly to…to Seyn’s hand, which was stroking Ksar’s biceps.
Seyn stared at it, feeling absolutely mortified and betrayed by his own body. Yanking his hand away, he opened his mouth and closed it without saying anything.
Ksar heaved a sigh, and Seyn hated that he couldn’t stop noticing the way it made Ksar’s chest expand. Ugh. He almost wanted his stupid bond back. This was horrible. Horrible.
“Look,” Ksar said in his mind, his mental voice laced with irritation. “It isn’t a big deal. I’m well aware that you can’t stand me, which is mutual. But we wouldn’t want you to give yourself away because your body has too many new hormones you have no idea how to deal with. I’ll have sex with you if you want. To take the edge off.”