The alpha had been even more suspicious around Bishop, but hadn’t tried attacking him yet, managing to keep his composure despite the forced rut. Every day, he picked at his food, eventually eating enough that Shiloh at least wasn’t concerned he would try something extra foolish like starving himself.
But he still refused the bottle of water, only drinking juice with meals, even though it’d been five days.
Bishop had given him one an hour ago, and when Shiloh checked his multi-slate, there’d been no changes.
The bottle remained on the table where the beta had left it, and the alpha was lying in bed, reading a book.
Which somehow made Shiloh feel like he was being ignored, even with this vast distance between them.
Perhaps Shiloh should take it from him?
He’d left a stack of fiction novels in the room so the alpha would have something to occupy his time. Shiloh wasn’t a complete monster, and he didn’t want him going crazy staring at a blank ceiling all day long. The whole point of this was to wear him down so he couldn’t overthink, not give him an opportunity to do so, so books as a distraction made sense.
But Shiloh didn’t like this jealousy over paper and ink.
All of Sarang’s actions revealed a refusal to accept him as his omega.
Or…He was vastly overreacting to this because he was the one being driven to madness.
Yeah. It was probably that.
Hell, if someone had spiked his drink, he wouldn’t trust them not to do it again either.
And there really was another dose of rut inducers in the bottle.
It was fine. Shiloh had anticipated this, hadn’t he? There was no reason to get so bent out of shape about it.
On the small rectangular screen of the multi-slate strapped to his wrist, he watched as the alpha shifted uncomfortably on the bed and started fanning himself absently. Bishop had been instructed to react accordingly if it seemed like the alpha wasn’t going to give in tonight.
The temperature of the room was no doubt rising in an attempt to make Sarang thirsty enough to throw caution to the wind.
The alpha would see through it, of course, but that was also part of the fun.
Seeing how long Sarang could resist and push back, before he knowingly conceded.
Shiloh made it to the main level of the club, spotting Tull, who’d moved over to the bar, and went to him. He made sure to shut his device off before he got too close, not wanting to risk anyone seeing the underboss locked up, then tapped on the bar top to get Iris, the bar tender’s, attention.
“Yuzu tea, please.” He returned Iris’ smile.
“Faking politeness again?” Tull sipped from his glass, not bothering to look his way.
“I’m polite,” he argued.
The alpha grunted. “Have you spoken with Kian?”
“About?”
“Last I checked, there are a few different topics of importance.”
Shiloh’s tea was set before him. “No news on Elm,” he said. “My brother wants us to continue business as usual.”
“Nothing about you and Sloane staying in doors?”
“We can take care of ourselves.”
“Is that why you stopped keeping bodyguards around you?”
“I’ve found it’s most effective to drive a point home quickly.” In the beginning of Kian’s reign, Shiloh’s innocent act had been mutually beneficial. It’d set up a reputation of him being quiet and delicate, the type of omega who needed pampering and protecting. Not fit to rule the mafia. But things were different now.
