The elevator arrived and Sarang stepped forward, the other man hesitating before cursing and following suit.
“I didn’t risk my neck saving you just so you could get revenge,” Tull said. “I get that you’re mad—”
“I’m not mad.” He was enlightened.
There was a difference.
He’d meant every word he’d exchanged with his omega back there, including the ones about his father. Sarang had been too focused on being a righteous person to notice how Shiloh had been leading him by the nose. For years, he’d seen exactly what Shiloh had wanted him to see.
Mostly, anyway.
Admittedly, despite his resolve, he felt a little bad about triggering Shiloh’s dormant fear. But he’d needed to be sure. The omega had kept his cool, kept his weaknesses close to the chest, and Sarang was left grasping at straws now that he needed them.
Before the death of the previous Dominus, there’d been occasions where her anger would get the best of her, and Shiloh would noticeably retreat within himself to escape.
Had he gotten flashbacks while watching Sarang destroy the hotel room?
He doubted it.
It wasn’t the act of destruction itself that bothered his omega, it was the lack of control.
Shiloh liked guessing what other people would do, how they’d react. He enjoyed playing them to his tune, seeing if he could get the results he desired. It was all a game to him. All of them, from Kian to Sarang to Tull, hell, probably even Sloane to a certain extent, all of them were part of a game.
“If this isn’t revenge, what is it?” Tullius demanded.
“He thinks he’s unlovable,” Sarang revealed. There was no point in hiding it, and it wasn’t like Tull would judge Shiloh.
Tull had put together a few loyal members and tracked Shiloh’s secret business down. They’d broken in to rescue him, but ended up getting beaten up for it since Sarang had been too lost to his rut to tell friend from foe. They did it because theywerefriends and he was the underboss.
But that didn’t mean they’d turn their backs on their prince.
“What?” Tull frowned.
“It’s why he put on this farce,” he said. “He thought if I knew, I wouldn’t want him.”
“Doyou want him?”
Sarang tipped his head. “Tell me, you’ve been here longer than I have. Have you ever seen what he’s truly capable of?”
Tull glanced away. “Do you really want to know?”
“Tell me.”
He blew out a breath. “When he was thirteen, Dio caught him skinning the neighbor boy. Alive.”
Sarang grimaced. “Why?”
“The kid was a couple of years older and had already presented as an alpha. He took an…interest in Sloane. Put his hands in places that he shouldn’t have. You get the idea.”
“So he was protecting his sister.”
“He could have shoved the kid off or even bashed in his skull,” Tull pointed out, “but he chose torture instead.”
“Did he survive?”
“Of course not. As soon as Dio found them, he put a bullet in his head.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as the elevator finally came to a stop and they exited onto the second floor. “Which reminds me, what are we going to do about the Butcher?”
“The position is going to have to be refilled,” Sarang stated, leading them to his office. He pulled off his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair before settling in. With a few clicks, he had the live feed from his bedroom up on the screen, tilting it at an angle to prevent the man dropping down into the couch across from him from seeing.
