“He can. He just has to give up any chance of the life-bond.”
“How—” Shiloh shut his mouth, putting two and two together on his own. “Oh.”
He was saying they needed to transfer the bond to another Gray, and then kill that Gray to destroy the bond. Shiloh had already guessed it was possible to shift the life-bond and had sent Bishop to find another Gray for the job, but he stupidly hadn’t considered what would come after.
“What’s a little murder between friends?” Rhovan chuckled. “Killing is easy. All they have to do is transfer the bond and then—”
Shiloh heard the familiar whistle too late.
Rhovan never got to finish his sentence, body jerking forward before he slumped over the table.
Shiloh stared at the bullet hole between his brow, watching as blood oozed out, spilling all over the small plate and soaking into the mostly untouched cake.
Chapter 18:
Sarang’s cock was rubbed raw from all the times he’d fucked his own fist, but that didn’t stop him from doing it again.
The rut burned through him, keeping him locked in a perpetual state of heightened arousal and aggression. It was day three of this nightmare, another one when he’d been denied a piece of the omega’s clothing, only it was worsened by the fact Shiloh also hadn’t bothered to call.
He’d called yesterday too, as soon as Sarang had drank from the offered bottle same as before. They’d argued—again—the omega refusing his demands for a real conversation. But at least they’d spoken.
Why hadn’t he called tonight?
Was this another form of punishment?
If so, it was incredibly cruel.
With his instincts so thoroughly left unsatisfied, Sarang had lost control of his mental clarity. He saw the broken bits of furniture—the overturned table, the shattered lamp, the book with torn pages strewn about the room—and somewhere, way back in a corner of his mind he somewhat understood the damage had been his doing, but the realization was fleeting and unimportant.
The only thing that mattered was breeding.
Finding his omega and claiming them.
Punishing them for making him wait.
Making him suffer.
“Shiloh!” he wasn’t aware he was screaming the omega’s name, had no clue he’d been doing it for well over an hour. His throat was hoarse, his body covered in fluids, and there was blood over his knuckles from smashing up the wall.
The pain was excruciating and unlike any other. His skin felt like it was peeling and burning, too tight to contain his body. Energy and pheromones snapped and crackled like electricity in the air, and his lungs constricted. But all of that was nothing compared to the ache in his balls.
His cock, proud and stiff and vibrant red, hurt with every small movement. It hung heavy at the apex of his thighs, leaking precome, never softening no matter how many times he came.
The frustration built to a boil, until he was practically clawing at the walls, desperate to break free and find the one thing that could soothe this raging inferno.
He needed—
A sound caught his attention and he went almost comically still, freezing in place as a pounding at the door repeated, growing louder and louder as it was able to pierce through the ringing in his ears.
When it burst forward, the entire door splintering and clattering against the wall, Sarang instantly caught the scent of another alpha.
A man, familiar, yet foreign, appeared in the entrance, caught sight of him, and froze.
“Tull, is he in there?” a voice said from out in the hall, and the man in the doorway swore.
“He’s in rut.” The other alpha searched around and found a robe on the ground. He picked it up and tossed it to Sarang. “Get dressed and calm down.”
Even though his hand had only been on it for a second or two, the scent of the other alpha on the material caused Sarang to roar. There was no omega around for him to defend or for them to fight over, but that didn’t matter.
