The fact that Rohak activated them for a private conversation, however, deepened my concerns further.
“Everything okay?” I hedged as the General stood frozen in the doorway, his back still turned to me. At my question, his whole body seemed to sag, the rigidness of his posture disappearing as he dropped some invisible weight.
“No. It’s not,” he admitted frankly, and I quirked a brow at his honesty. Rohak turned around, walking quickly to my desk before pulling out the opposite chair and sinking heavily into it. He ran one tawny, large hand through his jet-black hair—pops of grey starting to dot his hairline and spatter through the rest of his locks—before blowing out a heavy breath.
I waited patiently, knowing pushing him to speak would do more harm than good. Eventually, Rohak dropped the hand from his hair and raised his emerald-green eyes to mine. They sparkled with something close to vulnerability, maybe even fear.
The emotion shook me—Rohak was infallible; never afraid and always strong, confident. This version of him was so at odds with the man I knew, and I respected him all the more for it.
“Want to talk about it?” I asked quietly as I leaned back in my chair. Rohak drummed his fingers against my table once, then twice, before placing his hand back on his thigh. He wore his Mage blacks with the bar indicating his station—as always—but they looked a bit more rumpled than usual.
“What’s it like?” he blurted suddenly.
“What’s what like?” I shook my head in confusion.
“Bonding,” he gritted out. “I’m not . . . sure what to expect.”
I nodded, not showing my surprise at his candor. I took a moment to think about my response, scratching lightly at the three-day stubble on my jaw. I was usually clean shaven, but I’d let my physical appearance suffer after Sasori unBonded us and fucked off back to Samyr.
If she were here, she’d tell me to send the General away, insisting that he ask a Bond Specialist or King d’Refan. Not me.
But she was gone, and he was here.
Always.
“Your Bonding is soon?” I asked, prying for further details while I debated how much to tell him.
He nodded once.
“This afternoon. In a few hours, actually,” he admitted quietly, as if the time was a noose tightening around his neck.
“Who is performing it?” I hoped it was an acolyte from one of the temples in the city.Please don’t let it be?—
“Faylinn.”
Shit.
Clearly, there was way more to this situation than Rohak was admitting.
“Forced or True Bond?” I asked, trying to distract him from the fact that the woman he clearly loved was going to be Bonding him to a different woman.
“Forced. I’ve never met her. Faylinn selected her for me.”
Gods above and below.
“Do you understand the mechanics of the procedure or . . .?” I trailed off at Rohak’s jerky nod. “So you want me to just explain what it feels like, then?”
“Yes. I suppose so,” he said as he absently picked at a thread on his tunic, his eyes shifting away from my own.
“You’re nervous,” I observed. “Do you evenwantthis?”
Rohak shook his head, abandoning the loose thread. “No. But it’s either Bond this woman or risk killing myself from Mage Sickness. And I’d have to give up my positions.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline in shock and I was silent for a moment, the only sounds in my office the occasional shuffle of Rohak’s boots.
“Well, fuck,” I said, and Rohak finally barked a laugh.
“Yeah, no shit.”
