Page 30 of His King Enslaved

Sindar looked away. The words, “I love him, I love him,” were eternally lodged in his throat. Were they real? He knew what he felt, but he could not deny his attraction to Ardor was instant and absolute. The moment he’d smelled Ardor’s perfume the first time, he was lost. He’d never been attracted to men before. Was this feeling somehow against his nature? Was he being manipulated?

“I can’t accept it,” Sindar said finally, touching his chest. “Pheromones, psychotropic effects… I don’t care. This is real. It’s real, Patty. It has to be real.”

“You care for him. I believe that. But when this is over, and you’re no longer under the direct influence of a Flower’s aura, you may find your feelings are not nearly as powerful as you thought.” Patel sighed. “Sindar, trust me, you are not the first to go through this. A great many consorts have come out of their besottment embarrassed, confused, even angry. The realization that the intensity of one’s passion was augmented, even a little, can take the shine off it. It no longer feels magical. The honeymoon is over, as they say. Even if you understand sacred biology, and you’ve prepared yourself for the change, the loss can be devastating. To feel so intensely, only to learn those feelings were not solely a product of your heart, is… difficult, surely.”

Already, Sindar was ordering his memories, shuffling things into the “before nectar” and “after nectar” categories. This morning, he hadn’t wanted to breed. He’d been emotionally incapable. And for the first time, Ardor shared his bloom. Surely that was no coincidence, but the nectar was not the reason he wanted Ardor. Even before Sindar touched the bloom, he’d come for his Flower. He’d burned for him.

The nectar had made his feelings more intense. That he wouldn’t dispute. But he was begging long before his finger slipped into that opening. Ardor’s breath on his ear, his curiosity about his consort’s body, and the press of his fingers against the back of Sindar’s hand… those were the things that set him aflame.

His feelings were genuine. He wanted Ardor, and he came by it honestly. He could accept that nectar augmented his feelings as surely as coca and booze did. That didn’t mean the underlying feelings weren’t real.

“Do you hear what I’m saying?” Patel asked. His tone was sympathetic. He truly seemed to understand, and something about that nagged at the back of Sindar’s brain, as though there was something in plain sight he wasn’t quite seeing, but he had no energy to spare for it. As it was, he was wholly consumed by Ardor.

“I hear you,” Sindar said. He sighed. “I have to fix things with Ambani.”

“She’ll come around,” Patel said.

That wasn’t good enough. Sindar was through screwing up and waiting until everyone else accepted his flaws and “came around.” He had to do better.

He would do better

He was a king, damn it.

TIME

AFTER THE CEREMONY, Ardor was in shock. He didn’t fight it. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, and replayed the scene again and again in his mind, latching onto the most powerful details.

His consort shivering with excitement and arousal, so eager he could barely keep his wits about him. His thick, calloused finger sliding into the sacred place between Ardor’s legs, keeping his bloom open. The low, rhythmic panting of a man so utterly besotted he might actually have a cardiac event.

It was different this time, and not only because he’d finally been touched. His flower was starved, as eager for affection as it was for sperm. After his consort departed, a glow descended on his belly, warm and strange. Ardor’s pariah bloom, bound and shunned, had been neglected for too long.

For the first time, Ardor wanted someone inside him. No, not someone. He wanted his consort inside him. Not a finger. All of him. The impulse frightened him. Was he losing himself?

His orderly mind quickly quantified and rationalized his feelings. His longing was natural and expected. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was his consort would never fit. As it was, two fingers strained the bloom’s opening to its brink, and he had to concentrate to keep it from closing before he could thoroughly inseminate himself.

Damn it, he just wanted a baby! Why did this have to be so complicated? Why did it have to be so hard?

Ardor drew a frustrated breath.

Everything was changed now. It was done. They’d touched now, and they couldn’t go back to the way things were. This way was better, despite being emotionally overwhelming. Jain was right. It was easier with his consort’s touch, and with this man, he could bear to be touched. Wanted to be.

His desire made the experience no less exhausting. He’d spent the entire ceremony terrified his consort would feel his bloom or see it and know the truth: he was broken.

When Ardor finally gathered himself, he went to the bath. He kneeled as Leya poured sacred water over him. Afterward, she murmured a fertility prayer as she brushed out his silvery hair.

He was fully dressed, with Leya preparing tea to calm his nerves, when a knock at the door surprised them both. Inexplicably, his heart quickened, but it was only the king’s adviser.

The Lady Ambani bowed deeply and did not cross the threshold. “Your Eminence. I have a message from the king.”

His consort seemed to have no interest in letters, which was a pity, because Ardor greatly preferred written communication at times like these. That way, he could take his time and let it all sink in without another person standing ready, awaiting an immediate reply.

“Please sit,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Most of the staff refused to sit in his presence, but the Lady bowed again and accepted his invitation. “Your Eminence, I would like to preface his message with one of my own. The king is very fond of you. He wants to help you however he can, but through no fault of his own, he has met resistance. Having observed your previous encounters some months ago, I find he is a wholly changed man. He is utterly devoted to your comfort and safety, and he sincerely wishes to amend your marriage contract.”

This was not the conversation Ardor expected. He tilted his head, waiting. The trick, which worked so well on his acolyte handlers, worked just as well here.

Lady Ambani quickly continued. “We cannot change the contract now. But I want to assure you that Kysan intends to honor the king’s verbal agreement and will not enforce the previous terms we agreed to. I know this is disappointing, but as a gesture of goodwill, I am pleased to say Champion Hara will join us within the week.”