The plan was for them to drive to a restaurant where Shiloh had organized a celebration for him. The original party at Caelum Kian had intended to throw had been canceled in the wake of Elm’s disappearance, but Shiloh had insisted the two of them still go out. Sarang didn’t know the name of the restaurant, had been told it was a surprise, but he couldn’t get a read on Shiloh now. It was like he was sitting next to a stranger.
He didn’t like it.
“Buckle up, Rang.” Shiloh revved the engine and slammed on the gas, reversing them out of the parking space fast enough to slam Sarang against his seat.
“Slow down!” Usually he was the one driving. Another thing the omega had strangely insisted on.
“Aren’t you curious about your birthday gift?”
Sarang snapped his buckle into place and glared. “I’m done playing whatever game this is. You’ve been acting—”
“Like what?” Shiloh cut him off, speeding down the street. “How have I been acting?”
He grabbed onto the handle above him as their car weaved dangerously through light traffic. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Cursing now?” Shiloh chuckled. “I must be getting under your skin.”
“Prince.”
“The Wardrobe was more fun than I expected,” he shocked him further by quipping out of the blue. “I’ve never taken part in a Den Night before. It was a good time. Very...enlightening.”
Sarang felt the world go instantly silent despite the sound of rushing wind outside their speeding vehicle. It was like someone had hit the mute button. Need clawed at him, a roaring possessiveness that threatened to consume him almost taking control. He’d done so well at banking it down, even when Shiloh had announced he was dating that loser Lane.
Apparently, his subconscious drew the line at random hookups.
The life-bond, a thing only he could feel, thrummed, golden threads forming in the air, linking the two of them together as he subconsciously called to it, needing confirmation it was still there.
Funny that he both loathed and loved it. This thing, an ability inherited by his father.
Something that had once saved the man Sarang cared most about in the whole universe.
Something that chained them together.
The bond was still strong, with an inward pull, Sarang felt Shiloh’s qi, even and steady. He wasn’t ill, and there weren’t any of the usual fluctuations that came whenever he was in distress or close or in the midst of his mating period.
“…You’re not due for a heat yet,” he managed to get out. “There weren’t any signs it was coming early.” Even if Shiloh had followed him to the Wardrobe, there would have been no reason for him to partake, and sleeping with a random male was beneath him.
Shiloh should be pampered and petted through his heats. The people who attended Den Night wouldn’t have delivered that kind of care.
“That’s part of what I was enlightened about. The right alpha can push their omega into heat early. It’s actually quite fascinating,” Shiloh said, and he may as well be stabbing Sarang in the gut.
“Theiromega?” Sarang’s hand was on Shiloh’s wrist before he could help it, fingers tightening to the point it had to be painful, and yet the omega didn’t so much as flinch.
He never once lost control of the car either, and didn’t bother taking his eyes off the road to glance in Sarang’s direction.
Was this why he’d been different?
“Have you been seeing someone else behind my back?” he demanded.
“Someone else?” Shiloh clicked his tongue. “Oh. You mean other than Lane? So what if I have?”
“Loh.”
The corner of the prince’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t fully smile.
Usually he did whenever Sarang called him by that nickname. It was sort of a secret weapon.
A selfish secret weapon.
