Page 50 of The Omega Slave

“I’m sorry,” Tam said, sounding as heartbroken as he. “He needed you safe.”

Tsaria groaned and closed his eyes. He should have known. He felt the water pouch touch his lips and jerked his head away. Hehad no intention of being fooled a second time, and ignoring his thirst, he glared at Tam.

Tam held the pouch to his own lips and took a drink. “It isn’t drugged. It was a mild sleeping draft in your strengthening tonic.” He sighed. “I expected you to sleep longer.”

Tsaria sat up, avoiding Tam’s offered arm and yanked the pouch out of his hand, ignoring the guilty look, and took a few tentative sips. It tasted fine, but he dared not risk any more. With a huff, Tam took some more, than passed it back apologetically. “On my honor.”

Tsaria felt better after he drank and looked at the flap securing the cart. It wasn’t so tightly tied that he couldn’t see through the eyeholes where the rope weaved in and out. It was light out, but that gray, early dawn kind. The one where the mantle of darkness had not quite decided to give way. “Where are we and how long since we left?”

“Half-way,” Tam said. “We’re not properly out of Rajpur yet. Trying to get through the pass before the market gets busy.”

So, unless he could get a ride, he would never be able to return to the palace on foot. It was way too far. He would do it, but Kamir didn’t have that long. He would sacrifice himself today. “Mansala?”

Tam pressed his lips together as if he didn’t trust what would escape them, but Tsaria knew. There was no way Mansala would let Kamir go alone, so Tam was in the same position as he was. “And are we really both going to just let them go to their deaths without doing anything about it?” he asked in bewilderment.

“What can we do? Cadmeera cannot afford another war. They would shelter us all, but Raz cannot send troops.” Tam looked down, and it was easy to see his struggle. “I cannot ask Mansala to break his vow. It’s what he is.”

“Exactly,” Tsaria agreed. “And I wouldn’t love Kamir if he let those children die.” Absolutely not.

Tam hesitated, staring at him for a moment. “Youlovehim?”

“Of course I—” But then Tsaria stopped. Panic surged through him. Kamir had professed his love. Had called himincoerasa, his heart. He had taken everything Kamir had offered and given nothing in return. Had kept his feelings guarded like they were a dowry. Something to be bargained with. Shame burned him like the pyre he deserved to lie on. Kamir would go to his death not knowing Tsaria loved him.

He loved that incredible man with all his heart and soul, but never once told him. He ignored his wet cheeks, the agonizing pain in his heart, and the deep longing for a future with the best man in the world, and focused again on Tam.

“I love him,” he said like a vow. “I’m going back. You can do what you like, but I’m not leaving him.”

Tam stared at him for a long moment, then smiled slowly. He moved to the opening and yelled to the driver to turn the cart around. “We need a plan. Veda and Draul said they had enough people to protect the children,” Tam added.

“What we need to do,” Tsaria said, “is get to Kamir and Mansala, but also stop this from happening ever again.”

Tam stared at Tsaria and Tsaria took in every unspoken word. The fact was, to stop Gabar and every other bully that had spent summers reinforcing Kamir’s low self-worth, he had to change Kamir into a dragon.

Tsaria closed his eyes and remembered the moment he’d first seen Kamir. He’d walked into the chamber not wanting to be there, detached, almost, at what was expected of him, and then their eyes had met.

Something pure had passed between them, and as Tsaria was finally being honest with himself, it had been the moment he’d fallen in love with the beautiful man who had grown scales and fangs and claws. Tsaria had since been so desperate to protect himself from his money and status that he hadn’t ever givenKamir a chance since. Rejected him. Pushed him away. Denied their love.

Kamir had offered him everything, but because he had been so stupid, he’d rejected the one thing, so sincerely offered, that would have been the best thing ever to happen to him.Kamir’s love.He hadn’t tried to replicate that moment. He hadn’t given himself freely. He’d mistrusted him. Constantly denied whatever they could become together.

Tsaria closed his eyes and knew this was their last chance. He couldn’t crawl back to Cadmeera. He would be taken care of, sure. Live free. Or he could follow Kamir to the palace and stand by him. There was a very good chance he would be killed. Almost a certainty.

What should he do? But he almost laughed at his silent question. He loved Kamir, and for the first time, he absolutely believed Kamir’s love wasn’t based on what Tsaria could do. No, he knew it wasn’t. Other people had made choices for him all his life. This was one he had to make for himself. And he knew what it was going to be.

“Are you sure?” Tam asked.

“Yes.” He was, completely. “But we need a way of getting into the palace, and I don’t think getting arrested will help this time.” Tam grinned and Tsaria remembered Tam’s mouse. Which led his thoughts to another type of street vermin…

Kamir was ready. He hadn’t eaten the morning meal Mansala had presided over. He knew Tam and Tsaria should be well beyond Cadmeera’s borders now and wondered if Tsaria would ever forgive him. But no, he probably never gave him muchthought. He would be glad to be free of the whole nonsense. Tsaria would lead a comfortable life in Cadmeera. Who knew, he might even find love. Or a family. Once upon a time Kamir had dreamed of the same, but as his upcoming meeting would be likely the last thing he would ever do, he was content to wish that dream came true for Tsaria. He just wouldn’t be there to see it.

He waited as the ache spurred by that thought spread through him. But it wasn’t jealousy, merely regret. He truly wanted Tsaria to be happy. Thanks to the laws and customs he had allowed to perpetuate, Tsaria had been sold into sexual slavery as a child. Ignorance was no excuse. He was his father’s heir, and had never once tried to wrest power from Gabar. He might not have been able when Tsaria was a child, but in all those summers he had done nothing to try to help his downtrodden people other than hide away in his library and read scrolls. He wondered how many had died per scroll? Was there a blood number per inked word?

He was dressed in every finery possible, his emir sash draped across his silks. His last hope was the woman, Elainore, and her conviction that she could create an illusion good enough to convince the ruling assembly he was a dragon. He understood her desperate need to help her people. The desert was an unforgiving place, so harsh that sometimes even prepared travelers didn’t survive the crossing.

“Highness,” Mansala almost whispered the title.

“Please,” Kamir said. “Today of all days, please call me by my given name.”

Mansala stared at him for a heartbeat, then crossed the space and gathered Kamir in his arms.

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