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Gods of all, but it was repugnant.

He strode past the floor-length mirror situated beside the door, and the flash of gold caught his eye. He halted in front of the glass, his scowl directed at the crown fixed atop his head. So many saw it as a symbol of status and power—for him, it was more often a weight. One he currently couldn’t bear.

In short order, he found himself in his dressing room, almost frantically removing the pins and braids that held it in place. Once freed, he dropped the gold-and-emerald piece atop his dressing table and tugged off the ceremonial robe he’d donned for dinner. Only the memory of Ria’s frown had him placing it carefully on the hanger instead of flinging it to the ground and stomping on it like the memory of the argument he’d prefer to erase.

But even without the trappings of his rank, he couldn’t face his reflection in the mirror again. Not with this shame burning through his blood. He couldn’t have mistaken his relationship with Mehl so thoroughly, could he? For a few years, perhaps, but not an entire century. He wasn’t such a tyrant to force that kind of subjugation.

Was he? Gods, what if Ber was right? His brother had always called him a danger.

His magic pulsed against his shields with each beat of his heart, a drumming reminder of Ber’s claim.You call me ruthless, but you could kill countless people if you lost control.And it was true. Only Mehl knew how much stronger Toren’s energy had grown, too. Had he taken advantage of Mehl’s help?

Toren sank down onto the bench beside the dressing room door and dropped his head into his hands. Pain and self-loathing blurred into the ache of his building magic until he could barely stand it, but he couldn’t bring himself to seek any kind of release. He couldn’t ask for help. How could he approach Mehl or Ria right now? There was too much unresolved with Mehl, and he hadn’t missed the anger in Ria’s eyes as he’d walked away.

With his energy so heightened, he sensed Mehl’s approach before the door opened, but he didn’t lift his head. He didn’t dare to. Just a hint of recrimination or rejection on his husband’s face could shatter his control.

And then he would truly become what he feared.

Chapter21

Bridges

The sight of Toren’s slumped form nearly shattered Mehl’s heart. What had he done? He’d anticipated anger and hurt, but nothing like this. Toren had his insecurities, but he rarely crumpled. Not this way.

Abruptly, his husband straightened. Toren’s long hair tumbled around his shoulders, the strands still bent and crinkled from the braids he’d removed. Shadows beneath his eyes lent a dark aspect to his face, and the agony twisting his expression did nothing to help. And all it had taken was one foolish statement spoken in anger.

They’d argued before without…this. Why?

“Tell me I didn’t force you,” Toren whispered.

Thatwas where he’d taken it? Bile burned a sick path up Mehl’s throat. “You have never forced me,” he said, his voice sounding rough to his own ears.

His husband slumped against the wall. “Thank the gods. If I had…”

Hesitantly, Mehl approached. “I’m sorry, Tor. My words were thoughtless and inaccurate.”

“What if theyareaccurate?” Toren murmured, his distant gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Perhaps I am too blinded by my own needs, a servant to my power. First you. Now Ria. I take and take, but what do I give? Certainly not contentment.”

“I am happy for the most part.” Mehl sank to his knees in front of Toren and settled his hands on his husband’s thighs. “You bring me great joy. It is simply… Something has been off, a discontent I couldn’t name. I only realized what it was after your brother’s threat. I do not mind being your king, but I need to fill my warrior’s heart with something outside of royal duties. That’s all.”

Finally, Toren’s pained gaze met his. “To say that your only use is in my bed is not quite that, Mehl. With sex our favorite way to dispel my power, there is no way to ignore the implications. Was it ever ‘our’ favorite?”

Mehl’s fingers tightened involuntarily on his husband’s thighs, and his head lowered until he was staring at Toren’s chest. Gods, he’d messed up. He’d realized that the moment the ill-thought words had left his lips, and now the effects would take months to repair. Maybe years.

“Never think it wasn’t,” Mehl said. “It brings me nothing but pleasure each time I yield to you. It’s always my choice. Every time.”

Toren’s hand cupped his face, and Mehl allowed his gentle hold to tip his head back until their gazes collided once more. “I don’t know how to banish this new doubt,” Toren said.

“It was merely anger speaking, my love,” Mehl said. “A feeling that is not gone, I might add. I still don’t think you should have stopped me from detaining the spy. I’m one of the few to have seen her up close in the throne room and again wearing her disguise in the dining hall, and I have the training to follow. To be stopped like a child… I felt disrespected.”

Toren’s sigh drifted between them. “I am sorry for that. But you were unarmed and acting in haste.”

Mehl couldn’t hold in the short chuckle-snort. “Beloved. There are at least ten things in this room I could kill a person with, probably more if I put some thought into it. I’m trained to protect under any circumstances. I can also assure you there was no haste involved. I had my eye on that new ‘servant’ from the moment we rounded the table.”

A bit of the fire returned to Toren’s eyes. “Oh, certainly. No haste at all. You surely planned to chase them in a mad dash through the back hallways. How could I think otherwise?”

Mehl grinned. “No doubt the court willtskover it for months.”

As expected, Toren stiffened, his eyes narrowing. “Not in my hearing.”