“That’s . . . a lot to unpack.”
Rohak barked a hoarse laugh. “Well, we fucking need to. And quickly.”
I nodded my head once as my lips thinned.
“Tell me what I need to do.”
Rohak’s eyes softened incrementally.
“I don’t deserve your loyalty, Lex. After everything I’ve done to you, everything I’ve put you through. Fuck, I’m not a good person,” he lamented quietly but stopped when I shook my head.
“You’re the best man I know, Rohak. You’ve been put in impossible situations and had to make the call you thought was best. I don’t fault you for that. You’re a general first, a friend second. Your responsibility comes to Elyria above all else. I know that, I respect that. Even through that, though, you’ve never made me feel less than or not taken care of. Not even when you took me beneath the Academy.”
Rohak flinched at my words, but he needed to hear this.
“I was angry then, yes. But not now. I understand now why you had to follow his orders, and I don’t begrudge you that. I give you my loyalty because you’ve earned it, Rohak. Every single day, you earn it. We all make mistakes, some of them catastrophic, but it’s what we do in their wake, how you make people feel every other day, that commands my loyalty and affection. Nothing more and nothing less.”
Rohak sat silently for a moment before shuffling in his chair while clearing his throat.
“Thank you, Lex.”
I shrugged. “Of course, General. I’ll always be here to remind you of your worth when you need it.”
He smiled slightly. “Which is why Faylinn and I want to bring you in on our plans. We need people we can trust to help us mitigate the potentially disastrous effects of Alois’ decisions. We were hoping you would be one of them.”
I relaxed back in my chair. “This is going to put me more at odds with Sasori, isn’t it.”
Rohak cringed slightly. “Yes. Probably.”
I thought about it briefly before nodding my head. “What do you need from me?”
“Keep an eye on Alois and Ellowyn when you leave with him for Cellia.” Rohak’s answer was immediate. “There is something . . . more there.”
I nodded my head in agreement. After watching her with her magic during our practical sessions in the training yard, I had to agree with him.
“Understood. Is there anything else?” I asked, and Rohak shook his head.
“No, just that. Watch their interactions and how she draws magic. See if you can see or feel anything when she does.”
“Very well,” I said before pushing to a stand. “You should get some sleep, General. Looks like you could use it.”
“We’re all going to need it in the coming days,” he said sadly, turning further into his chair.
A heaviness settled on my shoulders as I left Rohak’s office and trudged up the stairs to my living quarters.
My Bonded and I had our fair share of problems over the last sixteen years, but none more prevalent than now. Ilyas would follow my lead on whatever I asked, his loyalty was just assteadfast as mine, but Sasori would take some convincing. It’d never been a secret that she practically worshipped the ground Lord d’Refan walked on, but her devotion was reaching near fanatical levels. Her anger and disappointment with me only grew the longer I remained “Rohak’s man,” refusing to devote myself to Lord d’Refan. I could only imagine how she would take this new directive from Rohak.
Maybe some orgasms will help loosen her objections. . .
The weight eased slightly from my chest and I pushed open the door, buoyed by the prospect.
I walkedinto our room to find both Sasori and Ilyas lounging on the couch. On opposite sides, doing different things, but at least they were in the same space. While tensions between Sasori and I ratcheted to new levels over the past few weeks, Ilyas had stoically stood by my side and actively taken steps to remove himself from Sasori’s presence.
The fact that they were cohabiting the same space this evening had my heart pounding and blood thrumming in anticipation.
I could do this—bring us all back together. This is what I was good at, what I was practically made for: sex, love, and pleasure.
Ilyas was knitting what looked to be the start of a new blanket—purples and blues this time—shirtless, with his legs spread open, practically inviting me to step between them and plaster myself to his exposed chest. Meanwhile, Sasori was tucked into the opposite corner of the couch, her knees practically touching her chest, fully clothed apart from her feet. Her black hair was loose and fell in soft waves to her waist, a curtain of it curlingaround her arm that propped up her head as she languidly read a book. Sasori looked soft like this—vulnerable, even.
