She’dmet Elm. Only a couple of times, but still.
“Are you worried for him, sister?” Shiloh propped his elbow on the arm of the chair and then set his chin on it. “That won’t do.”
If she was bothered by his disappearance, Shiloh would have to get involved, and he had more than enough on his plate at the moment.
“He’s…kind,” she struggled to find the right word, and it was obvious she wasn’t sure she’d settled on an accurate one after she spoke it. “Elm grew up with a normal family, on a planet where he didn’t have to worry as much about presentation.”
“Yeah, well, the guy is a beta so…” They didn’t have betas on Synastry, only alphas and omegas.
Betas could be considered lucky or unlucky, depending how one looked at it. They didn’t have to suffer through heat or rut cycles, and therefore were never slave to their urges or bodies. However, that also meant they couldn’t smell pheromones, and didn’t have extra strength or heightened senses. While they could technically be given a claiming bite, they didn’t have the instincts to accept or deny it, meaning the bond would never truly be formed. To them, a bite was just abite. They were relatively normal, not much different from many other basic species in the universe.
Kian had ended up with a beta for a brother thanks to Shiloh and Sloane’s mother. After birthing the current leader of the Eumia, she’d put him up for adoption to protect him from her enemies. He’d only found them five or so years ago, and had taken to the whole mafia royalty thing fairly quickly.
His adoptive parents had raised him from a baby, and later had Elm. Kian and Elm were apparently as close as blood brothers, which made them real brothers.
Shiloh wasn’t jealous. In many ways, having Elm around meant keeping Kian off his back.
But that didn’t man he considered the guy family of his own.
Kian’s brother was Kian’s, and therefore, Kian’s responsibility.
“Exactly, he’s a beta. He won’t be able to tell who to avoid and who to trust,” Sloane said, only for Shiloh to roll his eyes.
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic? Elm has managed to survive just fine all these years. He can tell the difference well enough, even if he can’t sense an alpha or an omega the same way we can.”
Most of the time, it was fairly obvious anyway. Alphas tended to be bigger and more arrogant. Omegas could be tall and fit, but tended to be more on the lithe side in comparison. Prettier. Not necessarily less masculine, just less traditionally handsome on its own, and more a mix of handsome and beautiful.
Like Shiloh.
Stick a mirror on the wall and ask it who the fairest of them all was, and it would be him, no doubt.
“I just don’t understand whynow,” Sloane explained. “Things have been relatively quiet since we relocated to thisplanet. Aside from the attack on you, there haven’t been any issues.”
“Right…about that.” He cleared his throat and straightened when her look turned accusatory.
“Tell me you didn’t.” She knew him so well. Better than Diogenes. Better than anyone.
“Okay, I won’t confess then.”
“Brother.”
“What? I needed a good enough excuse to spread word about the baby.”
“There was no baby.”
“Exactly.”
“Good Light.” She pinched her brow. “So your big plan was to stage an attack and blame it on our biggest rival?”
The White Frost, ruled by the Dominus Leviathan Morningstar, was still fully situated on Synastry. While they were still technically a threat to the branches of the Eumia who had remained, there was no reason for them to come all the way here just to stir the pot.
“We’ve only recently gained relative stability,” Shiloh told her. “Aside from sending a small team to retaliate, there was little fear Kian would do something explosive and risk starting an all-out war between us and the White Frost. It was the safest bet. Besides, I neversaidit was them.”
“No, but you laid the groundwork to ensure they’d be the suspected culprits.” She seemed incredibly annoyed with him. “When are you going to stop all of this? Huh?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Is he really worth it? Tell me that, at least. Your plans never go right, and the risks you’re willing to take are always too high. What if next time you aren’t lucky enough to get away with only a broken rib? What if you find yourself back in a breeding den, forced—”
