The Harvest Young- Bound by Love by M A Church

Author:M A Church [Church, M A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-20T20:00:00+00:00

MOVING BACK into the palace was harder than Neo ever dreamed. There was a lot to accomplish, and memories lurked in every corner, waiting to tackle him when he least expected it. But hands down the most awkward situation was moving into the royal wing. Since it hadn’t sustained damage from the attack, Hamza had assumed Jolak would move back into the royal suite.

Jolak kindly, but firmly, refused. He stated that his place was no longer there, and that he planned to reside in Neo and Hamza’s former rooms. After a brief argument with Hamza, Jolak won. That launched a rush to move two quarters full of things. Hamza, already tense, spent the rest of the afternoon snapping at anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path.

Eventually Neo had enough and pulled Hamza into a vacant office.

“What are you doing?” Hamza demanded.

“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing. Look, you need to get a grip. This is challenging enough without you acting like an ass to everyone you meet.”

Hamza’s tail whipped back and forth on the floor behind him. “I’m not acting like—”

“The hell you aren’t.”

Hamza crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Neo.

Neo returned the favor.

Shoulders sagging, Hamza huffed. “I wasn’t expecting atat to refuse to stay in his quarters. It never crossed my mind he’d no longer wish to stay where he and my dabba spent so much time.”

“And that’s probably why he didn’t wish to stay there—too many memories. Not to mention it’s the royal suite, and you’re king now. Jolak can be a stickler for protocol.”

“I know. Gods, I wish this unit day was done. I’m tired.”

There were circles under Hamza’s eyes, his shoulders were slumped, and an air of defeat hung over him. Hell, he was even pale, and that was saying something for a Tah’Narian. The lack of sleep was obviously catching up with him. And when was the last time he’d had a meal? Neo couldn’t remember seeing Hamza eat that morning, and there certainly hadn’t been time today.

“Like, bone tired.” Hamza massaged his temples, then flinched slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Hamza dropped his arm, but a grimace crossed his face.

Neo’s gut tightened. There was something wrong. “Really?” Neo crossed to Hamza. “Because it doesn’t look like ‘nothing’ to me.”

Hamza stuck his hand behind his back.

What, were they ten again? “Hamza.”

Hamza huffed. “Fine.”

Neo gently clasped Hamza’s hand. Bending over, he studied the scraped, swollen, and bruised skin around his knuckles. “Any pain?”

“Yes, some.”

“Numbness?” Neo ran his fingers over the inflamed areas. “Any difficulty moving parts of your hand?”

“Some, and a little.”

“Some of your knuckles are slightly depressed,” Neo muttered. “When you make a fist, has there been any popping or cracking sounds?”

“I haven’t noticed, but I haven’t been checking for that, you know?”

Neo straightened. “How did this happen? What did you do?”

Exasperated, Hamza sighed. “I was upset last night, and I kind of lost it, and, well, the wall was there and—”

“And you decided to… what? Hit it?”

Hamza blushed. Kind of shuffled his feet.

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