Sarang picked up the bottle and twisted the cap off. He didn’t bother testing it for substances, tipping his head back and downing half the contents in one go.
As soon as the plastic parted from his lips, the air conditioning kicked on, a blast of cool air fanning him from all sides, causing him to shiver.
A crackling from over the bed came next, and he’d only just turned toward the sound with a frown when the omega’s voice trickled out of a hidden speaker.
“Was that so hard, alpha?” Shiloh asked calmly.
The sound was more soothing than the air conditioning, and Sarang momentarily allowed his eyes to slip closed, the ache in his chest briefly eased.
Before the effects of the drug hit him, instantly bringing him to his knees.
“Oh,” Shiloh said. “I upped the dosage.”
Sarang growled, eyes scanning for the camera even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to find it.
“Are you looking for me?” Shiloh taunted. “Do you miss me, alpha?”
“Get in here immediately, Prince,” he demanded, only for the omega to sigh in mock apology.
“What can I do? I’m halfway across the city at the moment. It looks like you’re going to have to take care of your needs on your own.”
“Where are you?” He wasn’t in the building? Bishop was. Was Shiloh being safe?
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“The second I find you, I’m going to put you over my knee.”
“Ironically, someone tried to put me on my knees a couple of hours ago,” Shiloh said, like it was no big deal.
“Was that in combat,” Sarang barely kept it together, “or in the bedroom?”
“Does it make a difference?”
“Loh, you’ve tested my patience enough, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Not particularly.”
Sarang felt the drug sweeping through his system, his cock pushing against the seam of his sweatpants. He shifted on his feet, unwilling to remove them just yet—even knowing they were headed in that direction and he was merely putting off the inevitable.
Sort of like he’d been doing with this whole situation.
If Shiloh wanted him, was there really a chance Sarang could get away? His life-bond making him dependent aside, there was little chance Kian would side with him over his brother, even if Sarang was his underboss. There were still too many financial burdens to take care of back home, with his family, for him to even consider quitting and losing the funding, and no matter how hard his mind tried to convince his body otherwise, his dick still got hard at the thought of taking the omega.
On his back and on his knees.
Like how someone else had apparently tried doing.
“I’m warning you,” he growled, “I will not suffer another Lane.”
“That game got tired.” Shiloh seemed to be reassuring him. “It was a drunk customer at the club. What would you have me do?”
He was at Caelum then. At least that place was protected. Safe. Even if the omega could fight, he’d always been terrible at taking care of his basic needs, and Sarang somehow doubted that part had been faked. At the club, someone would cook and provide meals. Wash his clothes and his bedding.
Had someone else brought him cake?
That’d always been Sarang’s job.
And some asshole thought he could swoop in and steal his position?
