“You’re stirring the pot. His care stemmed from guilt, yeah, okay, that sucks. But so what if he’s kept me safe all these years for selfish reasons? Who on this planet can be considered more selfish than I?” Screw Bishop for putting these weird thoughts in his head. “If anyone’s pissing me off here, it’s you, Lefthand.”
Bishop could dwell on the negative all he wanted, Shiloh refused.
“Love, if it is real, is fickle,” Shiloh said. His mother had claimed to love him once. He had the scars to prove it, both physically and mentally. “I can do far more with guilt than I can with love. This secret must have been eating away at Sarang. He feels indebted to me. Sure, I could be angry with him for tricking me. But it would be nothing more than a waste of my time. He saved my life, and in doing so, chained himself to me in a way I’d never be able to achieve on my own.”
Shiloh hadn’t just been teasing the alpha back in the room when he’d mentioned how chatty he got when he was knotting. They’d spent an entire week like that, him wringing confession after confession out of Sarang by strangling his cock with his hole and taking his knot.
He knew Sarang had fallen for the mask. For the docile, delicate omega prince.
“Sarang thinks my affection is manufactured, but he’s just discovered my personality was. Only one of those things can beconfirmed. He admitted himself he can’t be sure that I like him because of the life-bond, but I’m positive I faked being kind for that very reason.”
He’d eased off once they’d learned about Grays, and figured out Sarang’s body was struggling to heal with all the overstimulation. Admittedly, it was Shiloh’s fault for not rushing him to a medic that day he’d been shot in the parking garage. He should have waited to fuck him, but he’d been drunk on bloodlust and desire. Mad about the alpha’s rejection.
He understood now why Sarang had tried pushing him away. It all came back to that pesky guilt.
“The alpha doesn’t believe my feelings for him are real,” Shiloh repeated. “He thinks he may have created an emotional link between us by forming the bond, and is afraid to take advantage. I can use that.Thatis the only important takeaway from this. Is that understood?”
Kian was supposedly capable of love, so there was a good chance Shiloh was as well, but he couldn’t linger on what ifs and maybes.
One thing at a time.
“Guard him. Don’t let anyone near the building. Put the renovations and interior designs on an indefinite hold. You know what else to do?” They’d discussed the plan while Sarang had been unconscious and healing, but he wanted verbal confirmation they were still on the same page.
“I’ve already purchased all the necessary supplies,” Bishop reassured. “I won’t leave the premises until you return.”
“It’ll be a while.” He slapped the visor back down and flicked the hoverbike on. “Mind, heart, and body, huh? I’ve got his body, but I’ll need his mind to get the bite.”
“Understood, Prince.”
He checked the coordinates Bishop had sent to his multi-slate. “This where they’ll be?”
“It’s been confirmed.”
“Perfect.” After this conversation, Shiloh could use an outlet.
* * *
Shiloh twirled the handle of a short dagger, legs crossed, leaning back in the cheap, partially rusted metal chair one of his men had dragged over from the corner of the back-alley room.
The group who’d attacked him were running a shitty, two-bit gambling den from it, trading petty coin on the outside, running elixir on the downlow.
The latter was the only reason Shiloh had given them a couple of weeks before coming after them. Bishop had easily gotten answers from the alpha Shiloh had knocked out in the parking garage, but they’d needed more than busting a somewhat illegal operation to pacify Kian.
Yes, they had an agreement where Sarang was concerned, but his older brother surprisingly took his job as Dominus seriously. He wouldn’t like it if Shiloh kidnapped his underboss and didn’t have a plan on how to keep the Eumia running in his absence.
“Elixir isn’t cheap,” he said absently, watching the way a particularly thick droplet of blood rolled down the edge of the blade as he turned it. “I doubt someone like you was able to afford this much product up front. That means you’ve got a backer. Care to share?”
The alpha currently kneeling on the dirty, blood and dirt-stained floor, knew better than to talk back, but that didn’t stop him from glaring.
Shiloh couldn’t fault him for his hatred toward him.
The man was currently surrounded by a dozen of his fallen friends and co-operators. There was crimson smeared onthe walls, a few fingers oozing on the ground, and drenching the green felt of a poker table with wobbly legs.
Bai Crate, the apparent ringleader of this operation, wasn’t the only person who’d been caught off guard this night.
Since the jig was up, and he needed a strong show of power to convince the mafia not to question Sarang “putting him in charge”, Shiloh had opted to handle this himself. He’d brought along eight lower-level members and Tullius, an alpha general who was part of the Hierarchy, ordering the lot of them not to interfere.
Thirteen against one meant Shiloh had taken a few hits, but his split lip and left eyebrow barely hurt at all, and the adrenaline rush from the fight still had him buzzing. He’d gone in hot, wielding dual blades, slashing his way through the group meeting. Their intel said the gang, known as Lady Luck—which was the dumbest gang name ever, by the way—would be gathering tonight to discuss their botched attempt to take out the weak omega Eumia prince.
