Chapter 27
“This is most likely a trap,” Tullius warned as they stood outside the thirty-seven-story tall luxury hotel.
The name, Taboo, was written in stylish cursive letters and hung above the front entrance where security cameras were also visible.
The last time he was here, Sarang hadn’t gotten a good look at the front of the place, and he took his time with it now, curious to see what his fastidious omega had built.
“Of course it is.” He’d gotten the call from Bishop with a message to meet here. There was little doubt that after all of that hiding, the beta had some trick up his sleeve worthy of his master.
A part of him had wanted to stop in his rooms first and ask Shiloh about it, but he’d refrained.
It was taking his omega a long time to recover from their passionate weekend. Sarang may have pushed things too far too soon, had clearly taken a lot out of the smaller man. But whenever he visited, the omega still purred for him. Curled up against his side and nuzzled into his hold.
A well fucked Shiloh was as docile as a kitten, a new discovery Sarang was admittedly a bit enthralled by. So much so, in fact, he’d prefer to get back to him as soon as possible, before the effects wore off.
Though…he hadn’t exactly hated the process of making him that way either…
There’d been an openness and honesty between them that hadn’t existed before. Not just in their words, but also in their actions. Sarang had felt close to him in a way he’d convinced himself over the years would never be possible. Seen, in a sense. Understood.
Accepted.
And Shiloh had felt the same. He knew he had. Saw now that their fears were rather similar, that they were both too afraid of disappointing the other by revealing the reality of who they were.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t have put more guards on the prince?” Tull asked.
“He’ll be fine.” Even if part of Bishop’s plan was to send someone for him, Sarang trusted that Shiloh wouldn’t go with them. He was content being confined. Pleased by the attention he was getting. “He enjoys being my kept omega.”
Tull scrunched his nose. “That’s the prince you’re talking about.”
“So?” He shrugged. “He’s mine. I can say what I want about him, and besides, it isn’t untrue. Shiloh is having the time of his life right now. He likes the power rush of knowing I’ll keep coming back to him.”
Sarang was taking care of him, and instead of being insulted or upset like some might at being treated the same as a family pet, Shiloh was basking in it.
“Is that why he kept this place from you?” Tull was trying to make a point, but wasn’t aware he was actually making the opposite one.
“Shiloh wanted to establish something outside of the Eumia,” Sarang explained. “Something solely his, without strings. He’s doing it for me.”
“Where the hell do you get that idea from?”
“It’s in his notes.” His omega took extensive notes.
Wrote everything down, even the stuff he wasn’t sure would be important.
Stuff like random thoughts and feelings in the margins of blueprints and contracts.
Most of them were angry little comments, like how he hated one contractor’s hat, but others were more intimate.
He’d questioned whether or not Sarang would like the color scheme. Had switched chefs three times until he’d found one he thought would make food pleasing to Sarang’s palate.
At the start of all of this, he’d joined the Eumia for survival. Shiloh must have wanted to provide an escape from it. A means for them to support themselves outside of the mafia.
“His consideration was misplaced.” Because Sarang had adjusted to life as the underboss, and he had no interest in giving it up. “He’ll need help running the business, but that can be arranged.”
“You’re going to let him keep it?” Tull frowned. “What about the Dominus?”
“What about him?”
“Will he agree?”
“I’m not asking for his approval.” This didn’t concern Kian. From here on out, whatever took place between Sarang and his omega was private and not up for outside debate.
There’d been no obvious movement since they’d arrived, and Sarang decided it was time to get things going.
He hadn’t brought many men with him, a half dozen currently flooding the parking garage while another two or three blocked the remaining exits.
It was unclear if any of them would be a match against Bishop, but it was worth a shot.
While he was a beta, and therefore should have been the weaker of their species, Bishop had always excelled at hand-to-hand combat, never shying away from fighting dirty.
In hindsight, Sarang should have put two and two together and grasped that he’d been personally trained by Shiloh.
The doors automatically slid open when they approached, and they entered into a vast lobby decorated in pale teals and golds. There was a long front desk made of gold-toned wood, with a holographic display sign flashing in the center.
“Seriously?” Tull scowled at the arrow pointing to the right down a long, wide hallway, but Sarang was already headed in that direction.
There was another arrow in front of the elevators, with the number ten beneath it. They stepped in and silently rode it up, only to find another pointing right again as soon as they came to a stop and the doors opened.
“This motherfucker,” Tull cursed. “He’s playing with us, right?”
“It seems he shares Shiloh’s love of games.”
“Fuckery, you mean.”
Sarang chuckled.
It took them ten whole minutes, but they eventually found Bishop in a medium sized conference room on the twenty-first floor.
He wasn’t alone.
“Friend of yours?” Sarang asked, stepping into the room carefully, scanning their surroundings as subtly as possible.
The room was only half finished, with chairs still wrapped in plastic tucked into the corner, and a projector still in its box. The beta stood on the opposite side of a large table big enough to sit thirty, with an unknown female seated in a plush leather wheely chair before him.
He held a sharp blade to her throat, and her fear was unmistakable.
“The Prince?” Bishop boldly stared him down.
“My omega is fine.”
“Have you given him the bite?” He clicked his tongue in displeasure when Sarang remained silent. “If you haven’t yet marked him, he isn’t yours.”
“We both know that’s not true.” Sarang motioned to the woman. “Who is this?”
“Don’t you recognize her?”
He took a moment to look at her more clearly, but he was drawing a blank. “I do not.”
“It was hard to find another one on this side of the galaxy, but I managed.”
“You’re saying you spent these past few weeks looking for this woman?” Sarang quirked a brow. “She and I have never met before. I don’t know who you think you caught, but—”
“A Gray,” he interrupted. “She’s one of you.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Tullius glanced between them.
“What’s the plan here, Bishop?” Sarang focused on them instead of worrying about the other alpha, far more aware of the knife now than he’d been a moment ago. “How is this going to help your master?”
“It’s simple,” the beta said. “Transfer the life-bond.”
“Excuse me?”
“It can be done. You can transfer it onto another Gray. It just takes a little focus and incentive.”
“And I would do that because…?”
“It’s what Shiloh wants.”
Sarang stilled. There was no way his omega had asked—
Ah.
Maybe Shiloh wouldn’t order Bishop to do this today, but last month? When things between them had still been rocky enough to be considered an avalanche? Yeah, Sarang could see that. He always did prefer taking things to the extreme instead of talking through it like an adult.
“I suggest you speak with him before making any rash moves,” Sarang replied. “Things have changed since the last time you saw one another.”
“You haven’t marked him,” Bishop repeated. “So, no, they haven’t.”
He exhaled in mild annoyance. “I’m serious, Lefthand. This is no longer in Shiloh’s best interest.”
“Transferring the life-bond is equivalent to giving you both a clean slate. There’s no reason to reject it.”
Sure there was.
Sarang was unwilling to give up any sort of attachment or connection he had with his omega.
It didn’t matter to him that Shiloh couldn’t share in moving qi between them.
He could filter and direct the flow for the both of them.
At the end of the day, since they were now on the same page, the life-bond could only be considered an advantage.
“Shiloh must have thought I resented it,” he surmised, “but that isn’t true, and I won’t be giving it up.
” He didn’t even know how to, but that was beside the point.
“Step away from the woman, Bishop. We can go discuss this with the prince first. If he still feels the same, I’ll consider doing as you’ve asked then. ”
Bishop smirked. “That’s where you’re mistaken, underboss. I was in no way asking.”
The edge of the blade sliced into the woman’s throat, faster than anyone could blink. She gurgled as blood gushed from the wound, desperately covering it with both hands even as she toppled forward, elbows landing on the table to keep her upright.
“Tik tok,” Bishop taunted. “Either heal her and transfer the bond, or stand there and callously watch an innocent die.”
Tull cursed and started across the room, only for Bishop to hold up the knife and stand off against him, preventing him from reaching her side.
Sarang rounded the other direction, covering the woman’s bleeding throat with his own, larger palm.
It was clear Bishop was operating under the assumption that he was still the same person he’d been four years ago, that he didn’t know how to control his Gray abilities, and therefore would have to give up the bond with Shiloh in order to stitch this poor soul back together.
The issue was…he wasn’t entirely incorrect.
He’d been too afraid to try anything serious over the years, only healing plants and the occasional wounded soldier within the Eumia when he thought he could get away with it unnoticed.
Keeping his secret had been far too important, which also contradicted the picture of him that the beta obviously held of him in his mind.
Sarang wasn’t as good of a person as he believed him to be.
“Let go of your self-righteousness,” Bishop sneered, still fending off Tull, who’d yet to actively attack. “She’s got seconds at best.”
That was true.
The beta had sliced in such a way that he’d avoided major arteries, but that didn’t mean the cut wasn’t still deep enough to cause severe blood loss to occur.
The woman was fighting against her own demise herself, pulling qi from the three of them, golden threads of it twirling off their bodies, completely unseen by Bishop and Tull.
But Sarang saw them clearly, felt the tug and pull at the center of his own chest. Knew she wasn’t strong enough to fix the damage herself in time.
Tullius had already heard everything.
There was no point in letting her die when his secret was already compromised.
With a curse, Sarang closed his eyes and focused, drawing on that well of power within himself.
He felt a brush of Shiloh’s life force there, tucked in the way back, stored from the last time he’d siphoned from him, but he ignored it.
He wouldn’t feed her his mate’s energy. That belonged to him and him alone.
Instead, he pulled from his own reserves, feeling the room spin and his breath quicken as his body strained as though running a marathon. Between the two of them, healing her was possible, and though it was strenuous, the act didn’t take too long to accomplish.
As soon as he felt her qi stabilize, he let go and stumbled back, landing hard on his rear.
He heard Tull call out his name, but merely shook his head, regretting it a second later when that had his vision winking in and out dangerously.
Pressing a hand against his chest, he internally felt for the life-bond, worried that he actually had damaged it, or worse.
The only other person he’d ever brought back from the brink of death had been Shiloh, and if this little ploy had cost him that connection, he’d tear Bishop limb from limb, friendship with the prince be damned.
With most of his energy drained, it took longer than it should have to locate, and he was still in the process, still reaching within him, hunting for the spark, the thread tethering them together, when the doors burst open.
Three of the soldiers he’d brought along with him rushed into the room, frenzied looks on their face.
“Sir,” the one standing in the center, Yen, spoke hurriedly, barely even sparing a glance at the blood all over the table. “It’s the prince. He’s missing.”
“What?!” Bishop shoved Tull out of the way and stormed toward the soldiers.
“What are you talking about?” Sarang followed suit, abandoning the healed woman. “How can he be missing?! How did someone break into the club?!”
“No one broke in, sir.” Yen pulled up security footage on his multi-slate, setting the device to project the holographic images.
They all watched as one of the bodyguards, Valentine, used Sarang’s private door code to enter his suite.
There were no cameras set inside, but a couple of minutes later, he exited with Shiloh in tow.
The two of them walked toward the elevator, and the video cut to the parking lot, where Shiloh followed the guard and got into a black vehicle.
There was no struggle. The whole time, the guard was walking in front of the omega, so it wasn’t like he’d held a hidden weapon on him either.
“Where is he?” he growled and spun on Bishop, grabbing the beta by the collar and hauling him up.
“I don’t know,” Bishop said. “Valentine isn’t one of ours. He isn’t in the prince’s pocket.”
“Then why did Shiloh go with him?!”
“I don’t know,” he repeated, then turned to Yen. “When did this happen?”
“I came up as soon as I was sent the footage and realized what it was,” the soldier explained. “The security team noticed too late. He was flagged by the cameras at the back exit less than ten minutes ago.”
“Plenty of time for him to have contacted me.” Bishop shoved Sarang away and checked his device. “Nothing. If this was part of his plan, he would have called me.”
“What if he’s waiting to get somewhere secure?” Tull suggested, only for both Sarang and the beta to glare his way.
“Things have been good,” Sarang insisted. “Shiloh wouldn’t leave me.”
“On that we agree.” Bishop paled suddenly. “Shit.”
“What?”
“The life-bond.” He stumbled back as though shocked, leaning against the edge of the table. “What have I done?”
It wasn’t hard to figure out what he’d just realized.
Sarang could locate Shiloh anywhere in the city with the life-bond.
And the beta might have just forced him to destroy it.
Before Sarang could dwell too much on that terrifying possibility, shouts rang out, echoing down the hall and into the room.
Tull got a message on his multi-slate and swore all over again. “We’re being attacked!”