To the Eumia, Shiloh was the prince by blood. Blood. Not skill. He hadn’t earned it. It was simply his. When he’d presented as omega, even as a dominant one, his presentation had caused a stir. Older members had been livid at the suggestion that an omega rule instead of an alpha.
His mother could have silenced them with death, but instead, she’d turned her frustrations on Shiloh and Sloane.
They’d been forced into more rigorous training. Made to endure all sorts of hardships and torture, all so she could point to them and boast “look how strong my children are. They don’t need to be alpha”.
As though being alpha was somehow better, or vice versa.
Neither could survive without the other. That was a cold hard fact.
“I’ve heard stories about some of your past missions,” Sarang divulged. “I know what you’re capable of doing to a man, how you can draw it out. You could give the Butcher a run for his money.”
“I can stop,” Shiloh offered.
“Stop?”
“If you don’t like it, I can change.”
The alpha cocked his head. “You’re frightened. Why?”
“I told you.”
“You didn’t.” Sarang’s gaze hardened slightly. “It’s not just you who struggles to understand others, we find it difficult to see where you’re coming from as well. Your brain works differently. In the same way you need me to speak plainly, I also need the same from you. Try again. Tell me why you’re so worried right now. Use your words, omega.”
“Will you stop bringing me cake?” Shiloh stared at the thick slice of orange and white dessert, then to the small glasscup on the end table, where he’d been keeping the marbles the alpha kept bringing him. He didn’t have to count to know there were exactly five. He’d been looking forward to adding another to the collection today. “You’ve already stopped fucking me.”
“Is that what you’re afraid of? That I’ll stop taking care of you?”
“Will you?” He held his breath without realizing he was doing it.
“You’re the one who wanted to leave.”
“Not to get away from you,” Shiloh insisted. “I’m just going stir crazy in here.”
“Want to go slice a man open and blow off some steam?”
He flinched.
“Do you like giving pain more than you like receiving it?” Sarang questioned.
“No.” Shiloh worried answering honestly would make him look worse, but he gave it anyway. “Both help relieve the pressure.”
“How often do you feel the urge?”
He didn’t want to say.
“Omega.”
“Whenever we aren’t getting along,” he confessed. “Whenever I feel like you aren’t paying enough attention to me.”
Sarang seemed to find that surprising. “It’s not like you’ve ever actually needed my care. You’ve proven that you can handle yourself.”
“I can protect myself,” he stated. “That isn’t the same. It’s not the same as having someone bring me a coat when it’s cold. Or hold an umbrella over my head when it’s raining. Buying myself cake isn’t the same as someone giving it to me.”
“Anyone can do those things,” the alpha pointed out. “Bishop—”
“I canorderanyone else to do them,” Shiloh said. “I’ve never ordered you to do any of it. I didn’t have to.”
He’d thought for sure as soon as his wounds had healed, the alpha would stop being so thoughtful toward him. But that never happened. Even after Shiloh’s injuries were gone, Sarang had still treated him with warmth.
