Chapter 15 #2
If he wanted his alpha to suffer for him, Sarang would do so, and for an alpha, there was no greater suffering than going through rut without a partner, or at least a toy that could simulate the feeling of a hole taking their knot.
Bishop probably thought Shiloh was doing this out of some sense of revenge for being lied to about the life-bond. While he wasn’t fond of the fact Sarang had kept that he was a hybrid from him, he’d meant every word he’d spoken to his Lefthand about the rest.
The life-bond was a blessing in disguise. Another tool that could be used against the alpha.
Shiloh wasn’t above manipulating him. Never had been. Never would be.
That’s all this boiled down to. Same end goal, different set up. He was torturing his alpha not out of some misguided need to get even, but because Sarang was still fighting him.
He’d break the older man down, reduce him to nothing but sensation and instinct, cut off his ability to think. Without that, without those thoughts swirling around Sarang’s mind, all the reasons he thought he had to deny Shiloh, he would succumb to basic biology.
He was turning Sarang’s own body against him. Was it despicable? Sure.
Would he stop?
No.
If only the alpha would cooperate and save them both some time.
Ever since that first rut, Sarang had left the offered bottles of water untouched.
He got thirsty at night, Shiloh knew it, had witnessed him carrying water to his bedroom for four years now, but was stubbornly refusing.
If he kept this up, Shiloh was going to have to order Bishop to slip the drug into something else, but he was hesitant to risk putting it in food.
He wanted the alpha to suffer and beg for him, sure, but he didn’t want his life in jeopardy.
“Do you remember how you scolded Kian when he first brought Sky here against his will?” Sloane suddenly asked. “You weren’t wrong then, you know.”
“I’m aware what I’m doing is unforgivable,” Shiloh agreed. “But I’m not after forgiveness.”
She hadn’t seen the look on Sarang’s face when he’d realized what Shiloh truly was. Hadn’t watched her alpha immediately choose to enter the Wardrobe in search of another bedpartner right after learning one of her dark secrets.
“He can’t handle me,” he said. “Not the real me.” And since it was too late to go back to pretending… “This is my only choice.”
“Keep telling yourself that, brother.”
“Thanks.” He pushed away from the railing. “I will.”
Kian had left behind most of their forces, relying on the branch still stationed on Synastry to help him with locating Elm.
The Hierarchy consisted of several members, four of which—including the Dominus—were there.
The others, those who had come to Glyph to help build on Glyphian soil, had taken to Shiloh’s command easily enough, but that didn’t mean there weren’t… questions.
The story of Sarang being rendered unconscious due to their car flipping was believable, but too much time had passed since then. The Eumia was starting to worry, and Shiloh needed to think up a few ways to counter that concern before someone started sniffing around places they shouldn’t.
He really didn’t want to kill someone important. That type of thing led to complications, and he seriously didn’t have the energy for that shit.
Sarang was proving handful enough as it was.
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.
“And if something goes wrong? Have you considered that?” Tull asked sternly. “What happens to the rest of us if Kian comes back to his other brother injured? Or worse? What do you think the underboss will do?”
Losing the bodyguards was all part of the plan.
He was giving the appearance of being vulnerable and open to attack to instigate that very thing.
This past week had kept him busy, with more than just members of Lady Luck slinking out of the trenches in an attempt to get a leg up by kidnapping or harming the Prince of the Eumia.
Silencing them had been easy so far, and he didn’t anticipate it getting any harder.
Once word spread that Shiloh was actually a ruthless fighter, he’d become an asset to Kian instead of a burden the way Elm was currently being perceived. Win-win for them both.
“Let’s pray we never have to find out.” Shiloh had come over here simply to make a public appearance, but he was finding this conversation rather dull. Perhaps he should return to his rooms and jerk off to the live feed of his alpha…reading.
Damn it.
“Prince, this isn’t funny.”
“Who’s laughing?”
Tull finally turned to him. “I liked it better when you were pretending to be a normal college student.”
“Yeah, well I liked you better when you were fucking my—”
He slapped a hand over Shiloh’s mouth. “Are you nuts?!”
Iris pretended not to be paying attention out of respect, but her ears turned red at the tops, and she fumbled the cocktail shaker, almost dropping it.
A shout on the other side of the room came then, and both Shiloh and Tullius turned toward it, spotting a furious alpha shoving one of their employees against a wall.
“I’ll handle it,” Shiloh said when Tull went to move.
“The club is my responsibility,” he reminded, but Shiloh waved him off.
“The underboss of the Eumia can’t have a weak omega as a mate.
This is the perfect opportunity to publicly establish myself.
” Time to show the world what a badass he really was.
So far, he’d dealt with mafia business, things that weren’t open to the public, but here?
He’d noticed a couple students who attended the same university.
If he proved his capabilities now, word would spread, and there’d be less worry that one of their enemies might one day try to use him to hurt Sarang.
Only he got to do that.
“Problem?” Shiloh stepped up to the two troublemakers, holding out a hand to stop the guards from getting involved.
“This fucker is refusing me service!” the aggressive alpha, who was wasted, flung a finger at their employee, stabbing him with the digit in the center of the chest. He was dressed in a three-piece forest green suit, and had probably just come from a business meeting that hadn’t gone well.
Trying to drown his sorrows in booze and a warm body.
“I’ve explained to him that I don’t work the private rooms, Prince,” the employee, Orbit, said. He was one of their few alpha hosts who didn’t mind entertaining other alphas, but he was strictly a host, and never slept with any clients, no matter their first or secondary genders.
Kian had rescued him from the breeding dens, but when Orbit had returned home, he’d been rejected by his family.
With nowhere else to turn, he’d sought the Eumia out for help.
He was one of two dozen residents of the club, living in the apartments on the fourth level.
Rent came out of his paycheck every month, and he was provided expensive clothing in lieu of a traditional uniform, health care, and food which was stocked in the common area kitchen.
Basically, the man had a lot to lose, and costing the club an expensive client was certainly one way to risk his job.
But Shiloh would never fault someone for sticking to their boundaries.
He was well aware that he was a hypocrite in this matter—that he was currently in the process of forcing Sarang to commit to a lifetime of fucking him and only him, even if that wasn’t what the alpha wanted—but this was a perfect case of how giving advice was easier than taking it.
This alpha planned on forcing Orbit, using him, and discarding him.
Like trash.
Sarang wasn’t garbage, he was the cleanest thing in Shiloh’s life. The most important. Once they got past this hurdle, Shiloh vowed to cherish him the way he deserved to be. His alpha would want for nothing. Would fear nothing.
He certainly wouldn’t be left on his own to pick up the pieces the way Orbit would be if he was made to bed the shit-stain of an alpha who was trying to bully him into dropping his pants.
“Prince?” the business-man alpha eyed Shiloh up and down, some clarity entering his wild gaze for a few seconds before he succumbed to inebriation again.
“You aren’t Imperial. Is that your stage name?
You play a prince? I wanted it rough, but fine, I can change my mind.
” He grabbed onto Shiloh’s wrist. “Do you break easily, Prince?”
“Hey!” Orbit stepped forward, coming to his defense, but Shiloh stopped him with the same signal he used to keep the guards at bay.
“You’re going to want to let go,” he told the alpha in an even tone. “And then I’m going to have to ask you to vacate the premises. Unfortunately, you’ve broken several of our rules and overstayed your welcome.”
The alpha snorted. “Who are you to kick me out, huh? You’re nothing but a whore!
” He tapped on his multi-slate screen and then thrust his arm out to Shiloh, offering the device.
“Here. Bet you’ve never seen so many zeros in your life, isn’t that right?
I’m paying to have you on your knees, so be a good little bitch and—”
Shiloh struck, unwilling to hear any more. His foot connected with the man’s right shin, and when he doubled over from the pain, Shiloh’s knee shot up, knocking against the underside of his chin hard enough to whip his head back.
Not wanting to give him time to recover—mostly because he was annoyed by the sound of the guy’s voice—Shiloh delivered a roundhouse kick.
The alpha’s head whacked loudly against the wall, and he slid down in a daze.
Shiloh took a single step forward and crouched in front of him.
“You asked who I am?” He made sure his voice lifted, loud enough for the crowd to overhear.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Shiloh Sobu.
I like long walks on the beach during thunderstorms, kittens, and fucking people up.
Oh.” Shiloh grinned. “And some people know me as the Prince of the Eumia. But if that isn’t enough to scare you, my alpha is the underboss.
Should I introduce you? I’m sure he’d love to meet the man who just tried to get me on my knees. ”
The shit-stain went pale.
And then threw up all over Shiloh’s shoes.