“Stop.” Shiloh wasn’t as bothered by it as most people would be—as he probably should be—but he’d been raised with an understanding of the world that fell in line with all the monstrous things that were done at places like forced breeding dens. It was an insult that he’d ended up in one, but he wasn’t ashamed or traumatized by what’d been done to him.
How he and the Leviathan now knew each other…intimately.
That had not been a part of his plan. His useless fake boyfriend, Lane, was meant to hire thugs to jump Shiloh and then go to Sarang for help. Instead, Shiloh had dropped his guard, thinking the men surrounding him were Lane’s idiots, and had gotten knocked out and kidnapped in the process.
When he’d woken next, he was already naked and locked in an empty concrete room, the throes of a heavy heat twisting his body. He’d felt feverish and completely out of it, unable to make out the features of the alpha who’d been tossed into the room with him.
The sex had been primal, completely animalistic and raw. Neither of them had spoken. The alpha had simply attacked him, held him down, and fucked him until he was sobbing and bleeding and still begging for another knot thanks to the induced heat.
The side effects had been swift too. He’d felt hung over and dizzy for days. He only vaguely recalled the alpha being rescued, and how pathetic he’d been then, reaching out to him, as though he thought for even a second he’d be saved as well.
He hadn’t known it was the Leviathan at the time, and in the alpha’s defense, Shiloh was fairly certain he’d tried. He had a blurry memory of the Leviathan fighting against three of his people, trying to get to Shiloh. Maybe they would have taken him after all, but the delay had given their captors enough time to respond, and they’d arrived before the White Frost men couldcome to a decision, thus leaving Shiloh behind in that hellhole alone.
Though, not for long.
Sarang had saved him shortly after, and Shiloh had foolishly believed what he’d endured might be worth it since the “plan” had ended in his alpha coming for him. But Sarang had only doted on him for a few weeks before everything became about the damn baby.
Offspring was the whole purpose of illegal breeding dens. With birthrates so low, evil people had found ways to take advantage and earn a buck off of other people’s desperation. Alphas and omegas were taken off the streets, given inducers, and made to have sex in the hopes of a rare pregnancy occurring.
The baby would then be taken and sold to the highest bidder, rich people desperate to continue their line or show off to their friends.
Disgusting.
Shiloh might be a monster, but even he wouldn’t harm children. When Kian had announced his plan for the Eumia to go to war with illegal dens and put a stop to them, Shiloh had wholeheartedly agreed.
“Are you all right?” Sloane was kneeling in front of him, hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”
She’d noticed the changes in him over the years. Any true empathy had been beaten out of them at a young age by their mother and her cohorts, but he’d shown signs of it now and again, in a passing comment, or a lingering glance.
They’d both figured out these changes had started after he’d met Sarang, though there wasn’t any reasonable explanation for it. Shiloh didn’t believe in that fairytale nonsense about how a crush could better someone. Attraction didn’t magically rewrite the brain. The more likely answer was beingaround an alpha as considerate as Sarang was rubbing off on him.
He still wouldn’t pull any punches, or give up on something he wanted. Would play as rough and dirty as it took to achieve his goals.
But things like suddenly wanting to be understood?
Wanting more than simply Sarang’s attention?
These were new developments.
“The organization was dismantled,” Sloane reminded. “Kian took them down.”
The illegal breeding dens, basically a glorified flesh trade, had been destroyed by the Eumia under Kian’s rule. He’d killed most of the underlings involved, as well as some leaders. The rest, the few that had survived the massacre, had only done so because Altair, the prince of Synastry, needed people to stand trial.
He’d escaped from that cold, dark place mentally unscathed because he’d been trained all his life to endure. The only reason sleeping with the Leviathan bothered him at all was because it meant he’d spent his heat with someone other than Sarang. Being drugged and made to participate didn’t upset him, since he’d always known their species were ruled by their base instincts.
Those instincts instructed them to breed, so of course when in the middle of a rut or heat, they would.
Even though it’d been forced, it was still nature. Why would Shiloh feel guilty or disgusted with himself from doing what his primal urges were created for?
But Elm wasn’t like him.
Elm had grown up here, with laws, and a more civilized upbringing. Glyphians loved to separate themselves from their urges. Loved to consider themselves above all of it.
Reminded of all of this, Shiloh finally felt a prickle of unease where Elm was concerned. Kian and Sloane would care if something bad happened to him. If he returned…broken. There was little doubt that their brother would find him, that Elm would be rescued from whatever horror he’d fallen into, but…
He stood with a flourish, almost knocking Sloane onto her ass in the process. “I’ll look into it.”
“Brother.” She stood and followed him toward the door, but he wasn’t really listening anymore, mind already circling the names of potential contacts who could help him in his search.
