Innocent - Roe Horvat Page 0,3

And still, Zana wouldn’t look away.

“You seem to like what you see,” Sajid said. Zana hadn’t noticed him approaching.

He’d been rather obvious, hadn’t he? Navid drew him in as if a gravitational field surrounded the boy, and it caught Zana in orbit.

“Your home is beautiful, Your Excellency,” he said, keeping his voice politely neutral. “And I’ve never seen as many exotic flowers in one place as I have in your gardens.”

“Yes, there are many treasures to be found in my home. I’ve been blessed. But your eyes are set on one particular gem I own.”

Zana bowed his head. “I’d never lie to you, Your Excellency.”

“Even if you tried, you wouldn’t have succeeded. Now tell me. What’s stopping you from asking for it?”

For now, honesty was the best policy. “I need to wait. He’s so young.”

“Is that your only concern? Zana, don’t be foolish.” Sajid looked over at his son and clasped his hands behind his back. “A young omega’s mind is like a field in early spring. If you let it be, in a few months, it’ll be overgrown with weed. A good husband must shape the omega’s mind to his liking. And for that, he needs to sow his seed in time.” He smiled at his double meaning, and Zana winced inwardly. Was the man openly talking about his son being bred? Not a snake, then. More of a pig.

Seated on a lawn chair among the shrubbery underneath, Navid didn’t notice he was being watched. He laughed at something his cousin was saying just as Zana’s stomach squeezed with uneasiness. Were they out of time?

“See”—Sajid rocked on his heels—“if it were up to me, he’d be married already. My husband was sixteen when I claimed him. But then they changed the law, and now young omegas can run wild throughout their teenage years.” He shook his head and tsked. “It’s a dangerous age. Navid is so impressionable. Of course I’ve kept him pure. And I chose the best tutors for him. Navid is prepared but untouched, like an apple about to fall off the branch. It has to be picked, or it tumbles down and spoils.” He regarded the small crowd, a smug expression on his face. Zana struggled not to grimace with disgust. Those agriculture metaphors were grating on his nerves.

“Your sharp eyes miss nothing, Your Excellency.” It demanded all of Zana’s experience as a negotiator to leave the sarcasm out of his words. “Navid has indeed bewitched me. You’re thoughtful, and I know you’ll keep him safe from any bad influence. I give you my word that I’ll come and claim him next summer.”

Sajid smiled widely and shook his head. He was quiet for a moment, and Zana knew from the self-satisfied look in Sajid’s eyes that he’d lost.

“No.” Sajid let the word hang between them. “You aren’t the only one who appreciates beauty, Zana Massoud. Take the advice from an old man. Eat the fruit when it’s ripe.”

God, he’s a pig. And I’m out of time.

“My son will be of age in a few months.” Sajid’s voice was loud and firm. “He’s ready for marriage. One of these days, a worthy nobleman will come to claim him, and he’ll get my blessing. That man will hold Navid in his arms on the night of the boy’s eighteenth birthday.”

With that, he patted Zana’s shoulder and walked away. Zana bit back his anger. The mention of the wedding night. The phrasing. Intentional, no doubt, to rouse Zana’s jealousy.

Sweet lord, the boy is only seventeen. But if I wait, they’ll give him away.

Zana was honest enough to admit that Sajid’s lowly technique had worked. He wanted Navid for himself. Preferably now so no other man could ever come close to him, and his twisted bigoted father wouldn’t have power over him anymore.

The barely hidden threat in Sajid’s words was real. An apple about to fall off the branch. Sajid was eager to marry Navid off as soon as possible, and he wouldn’t tolerate an extended engagement in case Zana changed his mind and thus damaged the boy’s reputation. And other suitors were vying for invitations to this house. Zana had to hurry and make his decision.

Except, he’d already decided, hadn’t he?

Navid didn’t seem to be listening to the conversations around him anymore, his expression thoughtful, mind far away, an empty glass in his hand. After a moment, he straightened in his seat. Excusing himself, he stood, nodded to his companions, and walked toward the outdoor bar where drinks were