Chapter 17 #2
Then he’d claim his alpha’s teeth in his throat and bind the man properly to him for eternity.
* * *
“Forgive me, Prince, but didn’t you say you didn’t need his affections?” Bishop’s smug tone came through the earbud attachment as Shiloh entered the Velvet Brew Café.
“I said I didn’t need his love,” Shiloh corrected as he walked up to the counter and ordered the cheesecake latte and a slice of triple chocolate cake with caramel swirl.
“And I still don’t,” he continued as soon as he was done and waiting for his order.
“But it’ll be a lot harder to control him, even with the claiming bond, if the guy can’t tolerate me. ”
“You think he dislikes you that much now?”
“I think he’s working himself up to it, yeah.” Sarang kept saying the two of them needed to talk, but what the alpha really meant was he wanted to sit Shiloh down for one of his infamous lectures.
Hard pass.
Shiloh wasn’t a child who needed reprimanding, or a reframing of the way he viewed the world. Just because he and Sarang didn’t see eye to eye about everything, didn’t mean he was the one who needed to change.
The alpha was.
But since it was nearly impossible to alter a person’s core beliefs, he’d work on playing to the alpha’s emotions.
“I don’t want his charity or his pity,” Shiloh stated. “His fondness from before might have been false, but that’s more of a reason for us to wipe the slate clean and start fresh.”
“And you think severing the life-bond is the way to do that?” Bishop asked.
His order arrived and he collected his tray, heading toward a corner table. “So long as it exists, he’ll continue to think our mutual attraction is fake.”
“You share a bond. A biological response is to be expected.”
“Yes, well, apparently he wants more than that in a mate. He wants genuine connection and real feeling.” And since he’d realized half of Shiloh’s “emotions” might have been a result of the life-bond after all…
Would he perceive Shiloh as fake as well?
This was so idiotic.
An epic waste of time.
“The claiming bite has been given with attraction being its only basis for centuries. How is this any different?” Bishop sounded like he found the notion illogical.
He wasn’t wrong.
“Maybe it’s because he doesn’t trust in his Gray half,” Shiloh guessed. “But since he won’t give me the bite despite how many times I’ve asked for it, seems like he disagrees with his alpha nature dictating his emotions as well. Stupid.”
“There’s nothing more foolish than fighting against one’s own self,” Bishop agreed.
The bell above the door jingled and the person Shiloh had been waiting for entered.
“Rhovan is here.” Shiloh nodded at the alpha male who spotted him.
“I’ll find another Gray,” Bishop promised, confirming the order he’d been given at the start of the call.
Shiloh hung up without another word, hooking a finger over the edge of his plate and pulling it closer toward him when the alpha walked over. “You aren’t getting anything? I won’t share.”
“I’d never take cake from a baby,” Rhovan joked, plopping into the seat across from him at the small square table.
“You’re literally only one year older than me, asshole.” He wasn’t offended by the jab though.
Rhovan Blake, the Butcher of the Glyph branch of the Eumia, was another member who Shiloh had grown up with. Since they were close in age, they’d attended the same schools for most of their lives, up until college when they’d split so Rhovan could attend the best medical university available.
“Liking the job?” Shiloh casually asked as he took a bite of his cake, some of the tension leaving his body.
It’d been a while since the two of them had met comfortably like this, and it brought back memories of older times when things in the mafia had settled and they’d been allowed to grab a bite after school without constant supervision.
“Being the Butcher has its perks,” Rhovan replied, reaching over to snatch Shiloh’s coffee cup. He took a deep drag, laughing when Shiloh glared. “My brother told yours not to give me so many bodies to study. He’s worried being stuck in the lab all day and night will turn me into a recluse.”
“The lab,” he snorted. “Right.”
The Butcher was a high standing position within their ranks, with a fairly broad job description.
Need someone skillfully tortured for information?
Send them to the Butcher. Want a new drug created or tested?
Go to the Butcher. Looking for details about a specific species? Also under his umbrella of expertise.
Which was why Shiloh had called him out of his cave—aka torture chamber, also known as a lab.
Rhovan had graduated last year, meaning he’d only held the position for a bit now, but that didn’t mean he was any less skilled. He also happened to be one of the few people Shiloh felt he could trust.
At first, he’d instructed Bishop to research this on his own because he hadn’t wanted to risk leaking details about Sarang, but now that they’d hit a wall…It was time to call in a favor.
Still.
Protecting his alpha took precedence. Didn’t matter how much he trusted Rhovan to keep his mouth shut.
“A friend of mine is having a problem and he asked me to look into it,” Shiloh launched into the carefully prepared lie. “I can’t really be bothered, but I owe him, so I took the time to call you.”
“Using me to do the work for you?” Rhovan clicked his tongue, but didn’t ask the identity of the supposed friend. At the end of the day, Shiloh was still the prince, and he still technically fell beneath him in the Hierarchy.
“Grays, know anything about them?”
He hummed. “Sure. I haven’t met one, but I know a thing or two.”
Butchers had to extensively study as many known species as they could in order to be prepared to aid the mafia. In their line of business, they never knew who they’d encounter, and with intergalactic travel so common, it was best to be as ready as possible.
That didn’t mean they’d know everything there was to know about everyone, but the fact he was familiar with Grays at all was a good start. Rhovan’s position was hereditary, with he and his brother both forced to prepare as soon as they’d learned how to read.
“My friend is an omega,” Shiloh said. “Found himself mixed up with a half breed. Alpha/Gray mix. The guy formed a life-bond between them that neither of them asked for.”
“Must have been inexperienced.”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m told.”
“So, what? They’re looking for a way to sever it?” Rhovan took another sip of Shiloh’s coffee, then finally set the cup down, staring off into space for a moment. “Is your friend pureblood omega?”
“Yes.”
“Then it should be doable.”
“Should be?”
“I mean, in theory. The Gray bond is meant to connect two Grays. Think of it this way.” He stuck a finger into the frosting on the top of Shiloh’s cake slice, ignoring the way Shiloh cursed him out. Rhovan drew two dots, and then made an oval shape between them, with the ends facing either dot.
“The dots are your friend and the hybrid,” he explained.
“This,” he pointed to the oval, “is the qi circling between them. It’s an invisible force, a stream of energy.
Creating a life-bond captures that energy, turning it into a usable fuel of sorts.
It’ll flow between them on its own at an even pace until one of them gets sick or injured.
Then, one Gray can tap into this stream and pull from it.
Life force is needed to heal and keep the body strong, but while many species can momentarily tap into it, not many can do so constantly. ”
“But Grays can.”
“Exactly.” He flicked his finger through the edge of the cake and stole a smear of frosting, grinning. “Omegas, however, lack this ability.”
“So the well, or stream, is there, tying them together, but only one of them has access to it.”
“The hybrid can use it to heal himself or your friend, but your friend can’t do anything with it on his own. If, for example, there’s an accident and the hybrid is knocked unconscious, the well will remain at its same steady flow, untapped.”
“No boosted healing,” Shiloh surmised.
“That sort of one-sided bond is a big deal. It means even though it was formed, its purpose is unmet. I can see why they both want to break it. I doubt the hybrid is comfortable knowing he’ll never get the benefits of a Gray so long as he remains attached to an omega.
This could be a serious life advantage if he’s able to find one of his own kind and form the bond with them. ”
“His own kind wouldn’t be able to make a mating claim,” Shiloh pointed out.
“The life-bond is capable of keeping his alpha pheromones in check even without an omega stabilizer. If he has to choose between one side of himself or the other, forming the Gray bond is far more beneficial than an alpha/omega bond could ever be.”
That…
Rhovan tipped his head. “Why do you look pissed off?”
“If there was no life-bond,” he growled, “would the hybrid need a traditional mating bond?”
“It’d help regulate his pheromones, the same as any other alpha, sure.
But need is a strong word in this case. He can still pull qi from other beings to help stabilize himself, and that qi will help balance the rest of his body.
I imagine it would be impossible for a hybrid like that to be a dominant, so there’s little fear of him overloading on his own pheromones anyway. ”
That was true. Sarang wasn’t a dominant alpha, that was the only reason Shiloh had a leg up on him. The only way he could control him.
“Would he react normally if they formed the mating bond?” he asked, practically holding his breath while he waited for an answer.
“He should,” Rhovan reassured. “He’s still alpha.
If they manage to break the life-bond, and he falls for an omega someday, he should be able to bite them.
They’ll form a connection, just like everyone else.
During rut, he’ll only get hard for his mate, and knotting said mate will be the only way to satisfy him. ”
Whenever they weren’t experiencing rut, all bets were off, but that was typical.
Shiloh would be able to get wet for someone else if he wasn’t in heat as well. The claiming bond turned them into mates and ensured they could only procreate with each other, but it couldn’t cut off arousal all together.
“Tell me how to sever the bond.” Equals. If that’s what Sarang wanted so badly, Shiloh would make it happen.
He’d put them back on even ground and go from there.
“You’d need another Gray. The life-bond could be transferred to them.” Rhovan shrugged when Shiloh’s gaze darkened. “What? That’s the only way I know of.”
“You said the alpha could go on to find someone else.”
“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.