Sleep.
Sex.
Sleep.
Rinse.
Repeat.
It took until the fifth time he regained consciousness for Sarang to piece together what was happening. He’d been severely injured in the parking garage and had lost too much blood before getting treatment. As an alpha, he should have recovered quickly, but as a Gray who’d formed a life-bond with a person who couldn’t return the connection…
His body was struggling to make up for the lost lifeforce, and since Shiloh wasn’t aware of what Sarang really was, or how he had bound them, the prince didn’t know better than to keep pushing his physical limits.
Constantly being forced into an aroused state was taking too much out of him, but Sarang couldn’t even gather enough energy to explain all of this to Shiloh.
So instead, he drifted, waking when the omega demanded it, but ultimately succumbing to the dark pull of exhaustion as soon as an orgasm was wrung out him.
If he wasn’t allowed proper time to rest, there was a chance this could drag on for months—if it hadn’t already.
Maybe that was for the best.
Maybe that was how he’d atone for linking the two of them together and keeping it a secret all these years.
* * *
It was too bright.
Sunlight spilled in from an open window, momentarily blinding him when he blinked his eyes open. They were crusty and his lashes pulled and stuck, but eventually he adjusted and was able to keep them open long enough to process his surroundings.
The unfamiliar ceiling had him frowning, and he eased into a seated position, only realizing the chains binding his wrists once he’d moved his hands into his lap. The cuffs were thick, gold, and attached to links that reached back and were bolted straight into the wall. There was enough give that he could somewhat move around, though he doubted he’d be able to get off the bed or even stand beside it.
A thin white sheet covered his naked body, and he risked a glimpse beneath it, finding himself clean from the mess of fluids he’d half expected to find.
Shiloh sat in the corner by the window on the other side of the room, lifting a cigarette absently to his lips every now and again. He was a black smudge against the otherwise gold and cream-colored setting, a hint of the threat of his pheromones lingering in the warm air.
He’d been aware of the omega’s presence from the moment he’d woken, but Sarang refused to look at him just yet, taking stock of his extremities, gauging the damage.
The bullet wounds he’d sustained from their attackers were fully healed, little more than scars left behind, already starting to fade. One week? Two? How long had he been out?
His muscles felt taut, and there was a familiar discomfort that needed immediate dealing with.
“What is this place?” his voice cracked from ill use, but the omega gave little reaction.
Shiloh took another drag from his cigarette and slowly let the smoke trail past his parted lips. He was lounging on a gold striped cream arm chair, in all black, looking every bit the part of a spoiled prince.
There was an edge to his gaze when Sarang finally lifted his head and met it, a sharp intensity that seemed to see right through him and catch on his very soul.
It was a far cry from the usual soft and pouty looks Shiloh wore, and for a moment, it threw Sarang even more than waking chained to a bed did.
Except it shouldn’t, considering the events that had led them here in the first place.
“The attackers?” He switched gears, needing to hear the omega speak to ease this tension in the center of his chest. As out of it as he’d been, he’d been unable to stabilize, and while the lifeforce within him had settled from the constant physical contact he’d been lavished with, it still wasn’t enough.
Now that he was awake, that unease was returning, prickling at his senses.
Sarang took a deep breath, opening himself up, tugging on the invisible threads sewn between them. The first hit was like coming up for air after being submerged in the ocean for hours.
A wisp of glittering life energy twirled off of the omega’s body, floating toward Sarang as he continued to inhale. It surrounded him in a comforting embrace, the feeling of rightness helping to chase off some of the anxiety.
