“What’s the plan here, Bishop?” Sarang focused on them instead of worrying about the other alpha, far more aware of the knife now than he’d been a moment ago. “How is this going to help your master?”
“It’s simple,” the beta said. “Transfer the life-bond.”
“Excuse me?”
“It can be done. You can transfer it onto another Gray. It just takes a little focus and incentive.”
“And I would do that because…?”
“It’s what Shiloh wants.”
Sarang stilled. There was no way his omega had asked—
Ah.
Maybe Shiloh wouldn’t order Bishop to do this today, but last month? When things between them had still been rocky enough to be considered an avalanche? Yeah, Sarang could see that. He always did prefer taking things to the extreme instead of talking through it like an adult.
“I suggest you speak with him before making any rash moves,” Sarang replied. “Things have changed since the last time you saw one another.”
“You haven’t marked him,” Bishop repeated. “So, no, they haven’t.”
He exhaled in mild annoyance. “I’m serious, Lefthand. This is no longer in Shiloh’s best interest.”
“Transferring the life-bond is equivalent to giving you both a clean slate. There’s no reason to reject it.”
Sure there was.
Sarang was unwilling to give up any sort of attachment or connection he had with his omega. It didn’t matter to him that Shiloh couldn’t share in moving qi between them. He could filter and direct the flow for the both of them. At the end of the day, since they were now on the same page, the life-bond could only be considered an advantage.
“Shiloh must have thought I resented it,” he surmised, “but that isn’t true, and I won’t be giving it up.” He didn’t even know how to, but that was beside the point. “Step away from the woman, Bishop. We can go discuss this with the prince first. If he still feels the same, I’ll consider doing as you’ve asked then.”
Bishop smirked. “That’s where you’re mistaken, underboss. I was in no way asking.”
The edge of the blade sliced into the woman’s throat, faster than anyone could blink. She gurgled as blood gushed from the wound, desperately covering it with both hands even as she toppled forward, elbows landing on the table to keep her upright.
“Tik tok,” Bishop taunted. “Either heal her and transfer the bond, or stand there and callously watch an innocent die.”
Tull cursed and started across the room, only for Bishop to hold up the knife and stand off against him, preventing him from reaching her side.
Sarang rounded the other direction, covering the woman’s bleeding throat with his own, larger palm. It was clear Bishop was operating under the assumption that he was still the same person he’d been four years ago, that he didn’t know how to control his Gray abilities, and therefore would have to give up the bond with Shiloh in order to stitch this poor soul back together.
The issue was…he wasn’t entirely incorrect.
He’d been too afraid to try anything serious over the years, only healing plants and the occasional wounded soldier within the Eumia when he thought he could get away with it unnoticed. Keeping his secret had been far too important, which also contradicted the picture of him that the beta obviously held of him in his mind.
Sarang wasn’t as good of a person as he believed him to be.
“Let go of your self-righteousness,” Bishop sneered, still fending off Tull, who’d yet to actively attack. “She’s got seconds at best.”
That was true.
The beta had sliced in such a way that he’d avoided major arteries, but that didn’t mean the cut wasn’t still deep enough to cause severe blood loss to occur. The woman was fighting against her own demise herself, pulling qi from the three of them, golden threads of it twirling off their bodies, completely unseen by Bishop and Tull.
But Sarang saw them clearly, felt the tug and pull at the center of his own chest. Knew she wasn’t strong enough to fix the damage herself in time.
Tullius had already heard everything.
There was no point in letting her die when his secret was already compromised.
