Chapter 10
The little prince had been lying to him.
About how he could fight.
About how he could kill.
About how skilled he was with his tongue.
Sarang’s hips lifted of their own accord, driving himself deeper into that warm passage, groaning whenever he was deepthroated and he felt tight muscles constrict around his length.
Listening to the sounds of the prince gurgling and struggling spurred his desire on.
Watching the tears roll down Shiloh’s ruddy cheeks, seeing the glisten of saliva and precome on his lips and smeared across his chin—knowing it was his juices coating the omega’s skin and tongue—called to the primal urge within him.
He fought against the cuffs, but not entirely to get away.
Instincts were screaming at him to gain the upper hand and control his omega.
That familiar, tortuous need to claim searing through his veins like fire, causing a burst of adrenaline and distress.
It felt like if he couldn’t get Shiloh to submit, the world would come to an end.
Which was a ridiculous notion.
That internal war only grew worse when Shiloh met his gaze and then shifted to press against his thighs.
The second Sarang realized what he was getting at, he growled, a warning rumble making its way up his chest, the life-bond—the one the foolish, arrogant, conniving omega was still yet unaware of—cinching around his heart, almost as tightly as Shiloh’s throat around his cock, rankled by this turn of events and the mere suggestion that he end a life that he’d given his own to preserve.
Sarang couldn’t kill Shiloh even if he wanted to. The bond between them wouldn’t allow that.
But the prince didn’t know.
If he told him, would he believe him? Would Shiloh put a stop to this and give them a chance to talk it out? With anyone else, he’d call their bluff, but even if this person wasn’t the one he’d thought he knew, Sarang could tell he meant every word he’d said since dropping the act.
Shiloh wasn’t just suggesting Sarang strangle him with his thighs and his cock.
A part of him wanted that.
And the fact that even a tiny sliver of his omega longed for death…
“Release me,” Sarang demanded, but Shiloh merely shook his head, cock still buried deep, and hummed so that vibrations traveled down the length of him. His balls felt the buzzing sensation and he struggled against the need to come, refusing to give in to any of Shiloh’s demands.
Was this a game? A trick? Was the prince messing with him? Punishing him?
For what?
“Your crush—”
Shiloh clamped down somewhat, dragging his teeth—lightly enough it didn’t hurt, but close enough the threat was clear—down his shaft, popping off the head with a messy sound that also had more come and spit spilling down his chin.
“Don’t insult me, Rang. You think I’d blow a man over a crush? I would never debase myself for anyone other than my alpha.”
“I’m not your alpha, Prince.”
“Wrong.” He glared. “Everything you’ve said and done today has been wrong. Last chance. Are you going to smother me or not?”
“I could never kill you.” Even without the life-bond, that was a fact.
“Are you sure?” Shiloh tilted his head, a glimmer of something calculative and nefarious lighting his dark blue eyes.
Sarang had seen a similar expression painted across Kian and Sloane’s faces, but never Shiloh’s.
And never with this intensity.
This almost demonic ferocity, like an otherworldly beast about to devour its prey.
There was no way this was his Shiloh.
No way that his omega was wearing a face like that. Rising up between his spread legs like the Demon God of War readying for battle, shifting forward until he was straddling Sarang, lowering to cradle his swollen cock against his wet crease.
Shiloh lubed his shaft with his slick, one hand settling possessively against Sarang’s throat, the other tracing his chest, touching everywhere, lingering over his nipples, exploring the ring of his areola before moving to the grooves and bumps of his abs.
“I gave you a chance,” the omega said, voice little more than a dark whisper now, his breath fanning across Sarang’s cheeks.
He could headbutt him. Knock Shiloh out. Eventually, Bishop would return for them. But…
Then what?
As soon as Shiloh woke, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t try something like this again, and it wasn’t like Sarang could ever leave him, not unless he wanted to die.
Sarang didn’t.
Maybe that was selfish, but he’d never claimed to be perfect.
He startled when Shiloh reached down and adjusted him, the feeling of his sensitive head meeting the tight bud of his ass, pressing against that resistance, making him gasp.
“Wait—” He didn’t get to finish that sentence, the omega bottoming out over him in one plunge that had Sarang cursing and stars winking over his vision. Shiloh’s mouth had been fantastic, but the way his passage squeezed him as his cock was taken was unrivaled.
The life-bond didn’t have anything to do with sex. Didn’t require a claiming bite or acceptance the same way an alpha/omega bond did. And yet he felt that invisible thread bloom in his chest, felt his skin warm and tingle all over, saw a golden halo appear around Shiloh.
Not a demon. A god.
His god.
Sarang snapped his jaw and then caught himself, clenching it shut to prevent himself from doing it again. He went still, trying to ignore the way the omega moved over him, bouncing steadily on his cock like he had experience there. Like he belonged.
“Do you think I should be embarrassed?” Shiloh somehow managed to read him, and against his better judgment, Sarang’s eyes opened and he met his gaze once more.
“You’re feeling embarrassed. Why? Is it because you think I’ve never seen you like this?
Look how wet I am for you. How hard.” He angled his chin between them.
Sarang tried to resist, but he looked down.
Shiloh’s dick was flushed, precome and sweat dampening his curly black snatch.
It was an impressive length, only a couple of inches shorter than Sarang’s, though nowhere near as thick.
It beat against his stomach, splattering droplets of clear liquid, and his balls slapped against Sarang’s lower abs every time he lowered onto him.
The omega rode him effortlessly, keeping a steady, tempered pace meant to simultaneously prolong their coupling while also drawing them nearer the explosive edge.
It hit him then, that he was having sex with the prince.
He was fucking the prince.
Or, really, he was being fucked by him, because there was no mistaking who was in charge here. But it was all the same.
“You have to stop.” It didn’t matter that Shiloh was turned on by him. Didn’t matter how good this felt. “You don’t understand.”
This wasn’t real. The omega had misinterpreted his feelings because of what happened between them in the past. The traumatic way they’d met.
The even more traumatic way the life-bond had been formed.
Even if Shiloh couldn’t consciously remember, that didn’t mean he was unaffected. He’d feel this connection between them, but he couldn’t properly identify it. His omega instincts had twisted it into lust, convincing him that he wanted something with Sarang that he otherwise wouldn’t.
Sarang had no idea how a bond between a Gray and an omega really worked, but he knew better than to wish for things he was unworthy of, and this? A prince?
“Stop, Shiloh. Before—” He cut himself off, fearing that if he said it out loud, he’d well and truly lose control. Already it was taking everything in him not to give in. Not to take advantage.
Yes, he’d been tricked into believing Shiloh was a na?ve and helpless omega when that clearly wasn’t the case, but even then, there’d only ever been one occasion where Sarang had feared Shiloh would actually break.
The day they’d rescued him from the breeding den.
He’d been hollow. Awake, but mentally somewhere else. He hadn’t made a sound when Sarang had cut him loose from the dirty ropes keeping him contained. Hadn’t so much as twitched when he’d lifted him and carried him out of the building, past the slaughter of those who’d wronged him.
It’d been three days before Shiloh had spoken again. That type of trauma couldn’t be faked, no matter what other lies he’d told. Shiloh had felt powerless and defiled—and been powerless and defiled—and it had almost destroyed him.
How could Sarang knowingly put him through that again?
It wasn’t the same, but it was similar enough.
“I have to tell you something.” Sarang bit his tongue when Shiloh took him as deep as he could go and undulated his hips. “Prince, please.”
“You’re mine, alpha. You’ve always been mine.”
That was true, however…
“Shiloh.”
“Doesn’t this feel familiar yet?”
Sarang frowned.
“Should I say the words you liked to hear so much?” He hummed. “Would that help jog your memory?”
He had no clue what he was talking about. His implications were obvious, but there was no way Sarang would have forgotten if the two of them had ever—
Shiloh leaned in, running the tip of his nose across Sarang’s jawline, until his lips brushed against the curve of his ear. “I’m him.”
What?
What did that—
“No.” Sarang pulled away as best he could, needing to see his face.
Shiloh smirked, a less vicious look than before, but that probably had more to do with the fact that he felt like he’d won, what with his hole stuffed with cock and Sarang caught between him and the half wall.
His latest rut was a mess of bits and pieces of recollection, nothing longer than a snippet here and there, more sensation than anything since it’d been too dark to see. But Sarang recalled the feeling. The rightness of it all.
The relief he’d felt over finding a suitable replacement.
The undeserved grief that came with it from knowing he’d finally have to let Shiloh go.
He sniffed, but the scent of the omega didn’t help answer any questions, because that night, that stranger had smelled a lot like Shiloh as well, and—
“The power outage.” It was so simple and yet so convoluted that Sarang thought for sure he was mistaken.
But Shiloh blew him a kiss, set a hand on each of his shoulders, and then started to ride him more aggressively.
He tossed his head back and moaned, using Sarang’s body to chase after his own pleasure, angling his hips just right so that his cock hit against his prostate with every inward and outward stroke.
When Sarang glanced down at where they joined, there were smears of blood.
“You’re bleeding,” he said.
“You’re too big,” Shiloh confessed. “I tore that weekend as well. It’s fine, alpha. I don’t mind.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
He laughed derisively. “Rich, coming from the guy currently chained and taken. Are you really still trying to look out for me?”
“If that really was you at Den Night, it just means we have more to discuss. Stop this.”
“Never,” Shiloh was out of breath now, close, “No more talking. Do it, alpha.”
“Do what?”
“What you threatened to do last weekend when you forced my body into a heat cycle early.”
He’d…What?!
Sarang’s hesitation must have pissed Shiloh off, because a fresh wave of seductive omega pheromones, targeted this time so made even more potent, engulfed him. His cock, already hard enough it hurt, stiffened and grew even more, the knot at the base starting to expand.
Alphas outside of a rut could typically choose whether or not they fully knotted, but Sarang’s body betrayed him, and no matter how much he internally fought against it, he felt that bulge persist.
“You had me on my stomach when you first said it,” Shiloh was speaking again, the words coming in and out as Sarang waged war with himself.
“Thrusting into my body, harder than this, deeper. Your teeth were so close to where we both wanted them. You told me if I was really him, you wouldn’t hold back.
You said if I was him, you’d do what you should have done that day you found me in the salt field. ”
“Prince.” They couldn’t do this.
“Yes, that’s it exactly,” Shiloh sounded pleased. It didn’t seem like he was experiencing any of the panic or guilt that Sarang was currently drowning in. One of his hands captured his head, easing his face into the crook of his neck, holding him still when Sarang tried pulling away.
Since when was he so strong?
Was it the pheromones making Sarang weak?
No. It was instinct betraying him.
“I’m him,” Shiloh purred. “I’m your perfect,” he took him deep and squeezed around him, “darling,” again, “prince,” and again. “In case it wasn’t clear, this is me, begging for it. Begging for your knot, and your teeth.” He pressed Sarang’s lips to the spot where his neck met his shoulder.
Sarang clenched his jaw so tight, he felt his molars grind together.
“Submit,” Shiloh growled, a whisp of frustration cutting through his coaxing demeanor. His grip tightened on the base of Sarang’s skull, fingers yanking strands of his hair in the process.
He gave one last burst of pheromones, pushing them both into oblivion at the same time.
Sarang gasped as his cock unloaded, his knot rolling down half an inch to lock them into place, ensuring that none of his seed spilled from his omega’s hole. He pumped him full, the orgasm sparking throughout his entire system, curling his toes and blinding him.
He cried out when Shiloh struck next, clamping his teeth down on that same spot he was trying to force Sarang to bite.
The prince held on, burying his teeth, drawing blood and tearing flesh, and emitted a sound of frustration that was a mix between a growl and a scream. His hand released Sarang’s head, but only so that he could find the bullet hole and press his finger against the wound.
Another burst of pheromones was released the second Sarang let out a pained cry, morphing his protest into another moan instead. His cock renewed its release, emptying even more come into the omega. His pheromones answered as well, bursting out of him to mix with Shiloh’s.
Omegas couldn’t make a claim on their own. They could return an alpha’s, strengthen a bond that way, but they lacked the ability to steal a mate the same way the more dominate of their species did.
Shiloh may have bitten him, but he hadn’t gotten what he wanted.
It was a very small victory, one only felt for a brief moment before Sarang’s entire body went limp.
He passed out to the sound of his omega cursing him out with expletives Sarang hadn’t been aware he’d known.