5 Chapter (2)

e for you to react to me that way if you have a bondmate.”

Rohan bit out, “Look, do you want me all over your personal space again? Let it go.”

His cheeks warm, Jamil glared at him. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Rohan turned around, his face contorted in exasperation. Whatever he was going to say died in his throat as their eyes locked.

For the past three days, Jamil had kept telling himself that he misremembered it—this absolutely gut-wrenching, sickening feeling of rightness, the gravity that pulled him into those black eyes—that all of it couldn’t have possibly been as intense as he remembered it.

But it was. It was, in fact, worse.

Jamil swayed on his feet, barely resisting the urge to move forward, to be closer. It was like fighting gravity.

Rohan swore elaborately, a sour, pinched expression twisting his face. “Get the fuck out of here,” he bit out, looking positively murderous. “Telepathic bleed-through, my ass.”

Jamil couldn’t even find it in himself to reprimand Rohan for his inappropriate attitude. He could barely make himself move. Every step that he took away from the stall—from that man—made something in him twist and ache.

Finally, Jamil reached his rooms and collapsed onto his bed, breathing heavily, as though he’d just swum against the tide for hours.

Fuck. What the fuck.

Only after a long while, when he managed to think in something other than expletives, did Jamile to the realization that this experience wasn’t the same as last time. It hadn’t been this bad last time. Whatever this thing was, either it was getting worse, or something was different about this time.

And something was, Jamil realized. He and that man hadn’t touched. Last time, Rohan had touched his telepathic point. There had been a physical contact that was absent this time. Perhaps that was why it had been so much harder to walk away this time.

Not that it mattered. He would never see that man again.

He was just going to avoid the stables for the next few months, and then everything would go back to normal—as normal as a life without Mehmer could ever be.