Chapter 1
“Prince, please.”
Shiloh barely registered the pathetic whimper, dagger flashing forward to slice through skin. The damage wasn’t fatal, but it’d sting like a bitch, which was his aim. He wanted the men surrounding him on the mat to bleed.
He wanted to hurt someone.
That darkness cloyed at his insides, scratching at his sanity until his focus was mangled and all thoughts of maintaining his carefully constructed persona were drowned out.
What did his mask matter when it hadn’t been able to get him the one thing he desired most?
Who cared if he was a good person, patient or kind?
Being good hadn’t gotten him anywhere.
Except into more darkness and frustration.
With a growl, he slashed again, the sharp blade carving through one of his sparring partner’s upper thighs.
There were nine of them in total, selected because they’d all made one mistake or another. Mistakes great enough to cost them their lives or the lives of those they held dear. Instead of outright killing them, they’d been given a choice.
Fight the prince, win and walk free.
Lose and suffer whatever fate he saw fit.
Thanks to that persona, Shiloh had known which option they would choose. It wasn’t his fault they’d bought into his crafted disguise. At the end of the day, their choices, all of them, were what had led them here, bleeding and broken in a pile of their own sweat and tears.
Shiloh refused to be like them.
No one had that kind of power over him, not even Kian, his older half-brother and the leader of the Eumia mafia.
His Eumia. The very group he’d given up, all for the sake of drawing in his prey.
It’d bitten him in the ass, like so many other things had these past four years.
Lust really made people blind.
One of the alphas got too close, grew cocky, and lunged for Shiloh. The blade slashed across his throat, a gush of hot crimson spurting out to coat Shiloh’s face.
He hardly felt the spray, already turning his back on the gurgling, dying man, twisting to avoid another attacker. His dagger drove through the fleshy areas of this new fool’s side, tearing through organs when he twisted before pulling it free.
Both bodies crumpled, joining the seven others who’d already fallen.
Scowling in disgust, Shiloh tossed his weapon to the ground.
“Is this the best the Eumia has to offer?” Pathetic. Weak. It was a wonder they hadn’t been overridden by some rival mafia by now if that were the case.
“They were being exiled from the family for a reason, Prince,” Diogenes, an older, high standing member, replied in a cool tone. He stood by the entranceway to the basement training room, standing guard to prevent anyone else from walking in on something they shouldn’t.
Shiloh’s true nature was a decently kept secret known only amongst the older ranks.
A secret created for one man, and one man only.
The one whose naivety had sent Shiloh all the way here, to the planet Synastry.
“Would you like for me to give it a try?” Diogenes asked, but Shiloh immediately shook his head, causing the alpha to chuckle. “Worried you’ll kill me in the heat of the moment?”
“Kian’s people are insufferable,” Shiloh drawled. “You’re one of the few remaining Eumia I can stand. There’s no way I’d risk losing you to bloodlust.” It wasn’t even a question of whether or not he could do it.
If the Prince of the Eumia wanted someone dead, they would die.
Better if it could be done at his own hand.
He tilted his palms, blood dripping from his fingers. It’d been a long time since he’d allowed himself to purge these pent-up needs. Perhaps too long, if the mangled bodies were any indicator.
“Are you going to tell me what brought you here this time?” Dio changed the subject, pausing before saying a bit more somberly, “I heard about what happened to the baby. I’m sorry.”
Shiloh snorted derisively. “I would have made a terrible parent.”
“True.”
That was the reason he liked Dio. The alpha didn’t look down on him. Didn’t minimize what he was capable of. As an omega, Shiloh’s presentation should have defined him as subservient to the more domineering second sex known as alpha.
But he bowed for no one, and he had the skills to keep it that way.
Holding out a hand, he waited for Diogenes to bring him a rag, then slowly cleaned the blood from his hands and arms. The clothing he was wearing would have to be burned, but that was no big deal.
He stepped to the side and stripped out of them, unabashed by his nakedness in front of the alpha, though he pulled on a clean set of cloths quickly.
“The baby didn’t matter,” he found himself saying a second later, a rare show of honesty, most likely brought on by the relaxation he was feeling now that he’d purged himself from those gripping dark urges that plagued him. “It was a tool, like everything else. Expendable.”
“That’s harsh, even from you.” Dio took the bloodied garments when they were held out to him, but despite his words, his lips were curved ever so slightly upward. “You don’t care about losing it, even a little?”
“Not even a little.” Another secret. The baby they all thought he’d been carrying had never been real.
Only Sloane knew that truth, and Shiloh wasn’t about to share it with this alpha.
“A child was never part of my plans. It happened, so I adjusted accordingly. Now that it’s gone, I’ll simply do the same. ”
“Bet your precious alpha doesn’t share your icy sentiment.” Diogenes’ brow shot up when Shiloh’s glower returned tenfold. “Is that why you’re here? You aren’t being coddled as much as you hoped?”
“Shut up.” Shiloh crossed his arms, sneering when the alpha at his side laughed.
If he’d been anyone else, the knife would already be back in his hand, but Shiloh hadn’t been lying.
Diogenes and he had practically grown up together, both legacy members of the mafia, brought in by their parents before they could even talk.
In many ways, he viewed the alpha more like a brother than he did Kian, which was why he was able to get away with so much, and why Shiloh confided in him.
“Did it ever occur to you, that maybe your alpha thinks the same as you about it?” Dio shrugged when Shiloh sent him a questioning look. “You would make a terrible parent, Prince.”
“Impossible,” he said. “I’ve been nothing but perfect in front of him. Too perfect. He thinks I’m delicate. Breakable.”
“What did you expect?” Dio rolled his gray eyes. “Everything you plotted led him to that conclusion. If you don’t like it, you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”
“I know that.”
“And yet here you are, sulking because you aren’t getting enough attention.”
“I had a miscarriage,” Shiloh growled. “He should be—”
“It wasn’t his baby.”
His mouth slammed shut, because no, no it hadn’t been.
A while ago, Shiloh had been kidnapped and thrown into a breeding den, forced to partner up with a random alpha.
They’d both been given drugs to instigate their rut and heat cycles, which had led to an aggressive, violent breeding between them.
One that had been successful, considering it’d left Shiloh pregnant.
During the ordeal, he’d been livid, but after…When he’d finally been rescued, had seen the panic and the longing on Sarang’s face…
It’d all been made worth it.
He didn’t even blame the alpha who’d impregnated him. They’d both been forced, and at the end of the day, Shiloh had been able to use his new state as another means to tie his desire to him.
That hadn’t lasted though. Within a week of finding out, the doctors had run more tests and discovered his body had shown false signs. Something about chemical reactions, and pheromone influx, yada yada. Shiloh hadn’t really paid much attention after the initial point had been made.
He’d never really been pregnant.
There’d never really been a baby.
But the way Sarang treated him when he thought there was…
Logically, Shiloh had known he couldn’t keep up the ruse forever. He’d needed a plan. A way to make it seem like he’d lost something that he’d never had to begin with.
Maybe he’d taken things too far though.
Maybe he should have come clean from the get-go, because while the alpha still looked at him with pity, there was now a sadness there Shiloh never meant to create.
There was distance now as well. Sarang still took care of him, but his actions and words were carefully chosen, even more so than they’d been prior.
As though he feared setting Shiloh’s grief off and making things worse.
It was nothing like the look he’d been chasing for four years. The one the alpha had given him that day they’d met in the salt field. He’d taken Shiloh home, had patched him up…
Had looked at him like he was precious and worthy of care.
An heir to the mafia couldn’t be weak or soft. Growing up, he’d been forced to endure every hardship in the name of making him strong. Up until that point in his life, no one had ever taken the time to comfort him.
Their weekend together after he got to Sarang’s house was a blur, but that was fine.
The last thing he remembered before passing out was the look in the alpha’s eyes, and the feel of his hand on his cheek.
When he’d woken again, days had passed, his injuries had healed, and the alpha had stuck by his side.
There were scars on Shiloh’s body from every single person in his life, including Dio. Marks meant to toughen him up, teach him a lesson, prepare him for the harsh realities of the world.
Sarang was the only one who hadn’t hurt him.
And also the only one whose mark Shiloh actually wanted.
He’d put himself through this entire act to bridge the gap, but like always, all he’d done was create more distance between them.
“Do you really think a guy like Sarang would want you if he knew who you really were?” Diogenes asked then, voice dropping low. “If he saw you now, covered in blood, standing over corpses, casually talking about your—”