Page 23 of The Omega Slave

He hadn’t known the shame when, as an inexperienced boy, he had enjoyed some of his lessons, then hated himself until he learned to control his own body as if it no longer belonged to him. But then, it never had. Tsaria had always belonged to someone else. Was Kamir simply going to be a new master?

“So, what’s the plan?” Tsaria asked, brushing away memories that had no business intruding. “We need to know why you don’t change when I simply touch you.” Because if that was supposed to happen, it made no sense.

Kamir shrugged but turned away. “You know as much as I.”

“Then perhaps we need to figure this out? I assume you want to return to take the crown?”

Tsaria watched as the emir seemed to droop where he stood. He watched his shoulders curl forward and followed the slight bend of his neck. “I’m not fit to rule. My sister is far more qualified, and she would be perfect, but we would have to alter not only the royal edicts of Rajpur, but all sixteen members of the ruling assembly would have to agree, and I know I would be unable to persuade at least ten of them to crown a queen.”

The last was said in a whisper, almost as if he was ashamed, and Tsaria’s heart clenched despite his determination to remain unmoved. He spoke as if his very existence was futile, and that disturbed Tsaria on a level he was unfamiliar with. It was true Tsaria had seen many horrors both before and after entering the pleasure house, but for all his pathetic and limited choices, and despite all the emir’s wealth, it almost felt as if he had as little choice in his future as Tsaria did.

“Have you eaten?” Tsaria asked suddenly, regretting the question as soon as it left his lips. It wasn’t his place, but the emir looked like a slight breeze would blow him away.

Kamir turned, confusion on his face. “My apologies, I should have offered you some food.”

Tsaria shook his head. “I had some with Tam.” Tam had eaten it, so he’d known it wasn’t drugged.

“And I enjoyed some delicious crackers and paste with their highnesses.” Tsaria knew he meant the children.

“Then I believe as it is late enough, your Highness should perhaps take a bath and rest.” It was easy to drop into a role. Tsaria had done this a thousand times, and maybe the emir would speak more freely if he was relaxed.

“If we are to work this out between us, please call me by my given name. My mother chose it, so it is precious to me.”

They both lacked a mother’s love, but any reminder of similarities between them made him uncomfortable. “Kamir, then,” Tsaria agreed smoothly, slipping further into his familiar role. He walked to the bathing room and wasn’t surprised to see that the water came from a pipe and servants didn’t need to fill it. He also investigated the herbal salts available, and picked one containing chamomile and passionflower, both helpful to promote restful sleep, then added it liberally to the water.

Kamir appeared stripped to a simple robe. “You aren’t here to tend me. I am capable of running my own bath and even if I was so dim-witted, there are servants here.”

Tsaria didn’t know what to say. Kamir had to trust him before he spilled any secrets, so he knew he had to play his role, even if he felt some innate desire to spoil Kamir a little. Which made no sense. None of it did. “We need to be relaxed to talk without artifice or agendas,” Tsaria said. “I think this day, this week, has been unimaginably hard on us both.”

“Does that mean you will bathe as well?” Kamir blurted out, then seemed to realize his words. “Gods, I meant nothing. Please don’t think…” But if Tsaria had any confidence, it was in his own body. He could do what he was good at. He might want to seduce the emir’s mind, but that went hand in hand with seducing his body.

“Yes, Kamir. I need to bathe. I know you don’t expect anything.” Because any shame over his naked body had been beaten out of him summers since, he stripped, got in the heavenly bath, and beckoned Kamir to follow.

Kamir didn’t seem to know what to do, but Tsaria reached out and took his hand. Kamir’s robe fell off and Tsaria took him in. He was still too slender even if he seemed to have more muscles. His ribs were too apparent, and again he wondered if anyone had ever looked after this gentle man. But that made no sense. He was a prince, an emir. Rich beyond Tsaria’s wildest dreams.

Kamir stepped in and Tsaria prevented him from sitting opposite, despite the enormous bath having room. Instead he brought Kamir’s back flush to his chest, fitting him perfectly between his legs. Tsaria wasn’t hard. He could easily be, but command of his own body had been drilled so forcefully into him, he was unable now to truly let go.

Some patrons like to fool themselves that the slaves wanted them. Many didn’t care either way. Kamir relented and relaxed, and Tsaria felt every moment as Kamir finally gave him his weight.

When it happened, when Kamir finally surrendered, he couldn’t help the feeling of possessiveness, which was foolish, he knew. Tsaria bathed his highness, and at the final sigh, Tsaria knew he had fallen asleep. To have such power, such trust, was an incredibly heady feeling. Even as a slave, the bodyguards would be present, except Mansala had left them. It was anincredible display of trust that Tsaria honestly didn’t know what to do with.

He roused Kamir eventually and let out the cooling bath water, drying the emir because he doubted Kamir was awake enough to do it himself, and settled him in bed. When Kamir’s arms reached for him, Tsaria let himself be pulled down. He hadn’t meant to get into the same bed. He certainly didn’t mean to close his eyes. And he promised himself, when he knew Kamir was asleep, he would move.

Chapter eleven

The second Tsaria woke, he knew where he was, and who he was in bed with. He remembered everything from yesterday and knew without a doubt he would have been lying to himself if he pretended shock at falling asleep. He knew he was here because he wanted to be. Not that he understood that compulsion, but he couldn’t blame his current position on anyone but himself.

Hiscurrentpositionwas lying flat on his back with the beautiful emir curled up beside him, Kamir’s head on his shoulder, and his slow, even breaths dusting over his skin.

Tsaria knew he should attempt to move without waking the emir. Go find his own chamber. Pretend to still be distrustful.

Which gave him pause. Pretend to be distrustful?Pretend?Had he really gone from bitterness and suspicion to forgiveness in the blink of an eye? He had lost his mind. Maybe it was the shock of the last few days.

He was still wracked with indecision when he realized that the emir’s breathing had changed and that he’d lost the chance totry to sneak away because the emir was very much awake. And probably wondering how to extract himself as well.

Tsaria sighed and dropped his arm, giving the emir an out. But instead of any embarrassed scramble, Tsaria was suddenly looking at two wary, but still gorgeous, amber eyes.Kamir.It was easy to distance himself and call him by his title when he wasn’t looking into Kamir’s very soul. He could see hesitation and caution. Maybe shyness, but he didn’t see shame. Tsaria wasn’t used to morning-after encounters. The customers that visited the pleasure house always had to leave before sun-up, and the times where Tsaria had been taken to someone’s home, he’d had been expected to leave as soon as they had finished fucking him.

Which was probably what he should do now. “I apologize, Highness. I will remove—”

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