Chapter 5
“You were out of commission for an entire weekend. The Hierarchy are understandably concerned.” Bishop, the beta male Shiloh had taken on as his second once Sarang had moved up in position, kept his gaze to the wet stone floor at the edge of the hot tub.
His hands were clasped in front of him, and he was dressed in an all black three piece suit.
Sweat droplets rolled from his forehead and down his neck, the heat causing the material of his fancy clothing to stick to him.
Shiloh might have found the other male attractive once. The beta was tall, with a runner’s body. A track star at one point, before he’d injured himself and had to retire at the young age of twenty. He’d sunk into a pretty deep depression after that, turning to substances to get through the pain.
It’d been by sheer luck that Shiloh had stumbled on him, half dead, laying in his own filth in the back of an alley on Synastry. As a citizen of Glyph, Bishop had no business being there, yet had traveled all that way to gain better access to stronger drugs.
Now, three years later, he was clean, and had sworn his life to the Prince of the Eumia as thanks.
Shiloh wasn’t above taking advantage of that.
Had, in fact, “rescued” him from the streets for that very purpose.
Money could buy many things, but true loyalty?
That had to be earned, either through manipulation or other means.
Since he wasn’t capable of taking the more honorable route and forming that type of bond organically, Shiloh had to settle for option number one.
It worked well for him.
“Relax. My brother doesn’t actually care so long as he’s gotten confirmation I’m safe, and Sloane knows me well enough to know if there was a problem either you or Sarang would have informed them.
” Shiloh lounged in the hot tub, his head resting against the edge of stone.
They’d returned to Glyph late yesterday evening, but he’d avoided his brother.
Kian had been given the same story as Sarang, but only one of them believed it.
Sarang and Shiloh had spent three whole days locked in that dark room at the Wardrobe, completely gone to their mating periods. He couldn’t recall how many times his body had been forced to take the alpha’s monster sized knot, but he was paying for it now, that was certain.
The flight over from Synastry had been pure torture, the only saving grace the fact Bishop had thought on his feet and explained Shiloh’s state of being on poor health.
His lefthand had spun a story about him spending the weekend with a stomach bug, a tale Sarang had bought because he’d witnessed Shiloh clutching his middle, curled up on the seat on the spaceship.
Kian had figured out something else had happened, but Shiloh wasn’t in the mood to explain.
And he never would be, because it was none of his brother’s damn business.
That was part of their agreement. Shiloh had stepped aside and ensured Sloane did as well, and Kian had promised not to interfere when it came to Sarang.
“It’s not just them,” Bishop said. “Diogenes came to the compound several times. He was upset he wasn’t permitted an audience.”
Shiloh scowled. Dio was seriously starting to get on his last nerve.
The Hierarchy was what they referred to the high standing members of the Eumia. A group mostly made up of Kian’s people now that he’d taken over the mafia, but one that included Diogenes.
Meaning Shiloh couldn’t kill him even if he wanted to, and he didn’t.
Not really.
Not yet. They had too much history for him to throw it all away over something as petty as irritation. Unless Dio crossed a serious line, he was safe from Shiloh’s bloody nature.
But that didn’t mean he’d entertain the alpha’s one-sided crush any longer.
It was time to speed things up with Sarang.
“Forget about them.” He waved the topic off. “Did you do what I asked this morning?”
“Yes, everything has been arranged per your instructions.”
“And those you hired? They’re trustworthy?”
“The underboss will definitely like it,” Bishop confirmed. “And if he doesn’t, or something goes wrong, you can always kill the party planner.”
The corner of his mouth twisted up, and his eyes slowly opened, landing on the beta. “I think, in another life, we may have been best friends, Bishop.”
He dipped his head lower, practically tucking his chin against his chest. “I am unworthy, Prince.”
Shiloh rolled his eyes and cut a hand through the surface of the water, splashing toward where the other man stood. Only a few droplets actually got on him, splattering across the shiny surface of his leather shoes. “You’re as cold as I am.”
“I—”
“Used to be all warm and gooey?” Shiloh grunted. “I know. But isn’t that what they’d say about me if I died tomorrow? Does that make it true? Which version is the real me, do you think?”
“Prince?”
He waved him off. “It’s nothing. I’ve just been in a mood lately, that’s all.”
It’d been less than forty-eight hours since he’d been underneath the alpha, trapped on his cock.
Since he’d learned that Sarang was keeping a secret, same as him.
That his stubborn alpha might already want him back.
There’d been moments where he’d suspected, of course, but how could Shiloh have been certain when the alpha had tried so hard to deny it?
Discovering that this attraction between them probably wasn’t as one-sided as Shiloh had feared made him rethink everything.
His brain kept replaying old encounters, trying to pick them apart for more proof.
It was exhausting and distracting, and he didn’t have time for distractions.
It didn’t help that his ass and lower back still ached either.
That was also pissing him off.
He was going to have to get better at taking his alpha if he hoped for this to continue.
And it would continue.
Now that he’d had a real taste, there was no way Shiloh was letting Sarang slip through his fingers. Even if he had to force the older man to accept him, he would do so.
But…
That night, Sarang had called him perfect darling prince.
That night, the alpha had run to the Wardrobe to spend his rut with a stranger because he hadn’t been able to handle the fact Shiloh had lied about the pregnancy.
What would he do when he found out all of the other lies he’d been told over the past four years?
What if—
“You’re doubting yourself,” Bishop guessed. “Don’t.”
“Giving me orders now, are you?”
“I wouldn’t dare. But, if I were your friend, I would—”
“You are.” Shiloh had shown himself to Bishop from the start. There’d been no reason to hide from someone trapped in more darkness than he was. “Speak plainly. Always. I gift you that right.”
Bishop hesitated and then gave a single curt nod. “Let the Dominus keep the spotlight. Take him showing off his newfound mate as motivation. You have been too patient. Too docile. You rule from the shadows. The mask allows this, but it doesn’t define you. It isn’t who you are.”
“No, I’m the type of person who picks men up off the streets, gets them clean, and turns them into my own personal slaves. Isn’t that true?”
“You just said we were friends, majesty,” Bishop reminded, tone lightening some for the first time all night. “Either way, use me at your leisure. I aim to serve.”
“Do you want to know my favorite thing about you?” Shiloh pushed off the side of the pool and moved for where his second was standing.
Planting his palms against the coarse stone, he pulled himself out of the steaming water, straightening with less than three inches between the two of them.
“You’re crooked everywhere else, but when it comes to sexuality, you’re straight as an arrow. ”
He would never have to worry about Bishop falling for him the same way he had to with Diogenes.
“Perhaps I simply haven’t found the right man to sway me,” Bishop said. He didn’t move away, keeping still and allowing Shiloh to invade his personal space, but there was no attraction there, and his words were honest, lacking any hidden meaning.
“I like that about you too,” Shiloh told him.
“I like that we can be ourselves with one another, without filter.” Thanks to the beta’s temperament, it hadn’t taken long to get him to move past their stations and talk openly with him.
All of his statements were truthful. Pointed.
“There are no mental gymnastics where you’re concerned. ”
Bishop’s multi-slate beeped and he tapped the earbud attachment in his right ear, listening for a moment before ending the transmission. “The Princess is looking for you.”
“Tell her I’ll be there in a—”
“Shiloh,” Sarang’s voice was clipped. He must have just arrived, heading toward them with hastened steps. His hand was on Shiloh’s wrist soon enough, and he pulled him away from Bishop, glaring at the beta. “Decorum, Lefthand. I shouldn’t have to keep reminding you.”
Shiloh winked at Bishop while Sarang wasn’t looking, then softened his expression and rested a hand over the alpha’s arm. “Don’t be mad, Rang. I was feeling dizzy. Bishop was only trying to ensure I didn’t fall over.”
The alpha spun on him, pressing the back of his hand against Shiloh’s forehead, Bishop all but forgotten. “Were you soaking for too long? How do you feel now?”
It was moments like these that confused Shiloh the most. Got his hopes up. But Sarang always got a hold of himself quickly, too quickly for Shiloh to be able to assess how deep the concern actually went.
Was he worried about his prince?
Or was he worried about his crush?
Could this thing between them, this tense, hyper fixation, be considered a crush? It seemed too tame a word to describe the tumultuous feelings between them.
Shiloh knew Sarang wasn’t entirely unaffected by him.
He’d certainly enjoyed their sexual chemistry this weekend, and he’d proven he’d thought of fucking Shiloh before with his comments in the bedroom.
But as a Dominant omega, that was to be expected.
Shiloh couldn’t take that as proof, since any alpha would react that very same way if subjected to Shiloh’s dominant pheromones as often as this one was.
Den Night could have been a mere fantasy about fucking his boss, but even if Sarang did have romantic notions toward him, they’d be feelings for the mask, not the real person underneath.
Which was fine.
Hadn’t that been the very reason for the mask in the first place?
Shiloh had meant to use it to trap the alpha at his side permanently.
He could keep this act up for the rest of his life even, if it meant he’d get to keep Sarang.
Admittedly, it was a somewhat childish plan, but he’d come up with it in the midst of a high heat and while injured, the smell of salt and alpha musk drugging his senses.
He’d claimed this man the day they’d met. In less than an hour of knowing him.
Sarang simply wasn’t aware.
Yet.
But he would be, and soon, so long as Bishop had taken care of things as well as he stated.
Fortunately, Sarang mistook Shiloh’s frown, cursing and bending to swoop him up into his arms. “If you’re unwell, call me.”
“You were busy.” Shiloh wrapped his arms around Sarang’s neck, sure to keep his touch gentle, and then feigned his head being too heavy to hold up. He set it on the alpha’s shoulder, hiding his smirk as the alpha carried him to the attached changing room. “I’m fine, Rang. Just a little woozy.”
“How long were you in there?”
“I lost track of time.”
“If Bishop can’t do his job properly, I’ll find you someone who can.”
“His job isn’t to time my baths.”
“No, but he is meant to be looking out for you.”
“He was doing just that, and yet you seemed pretty cross with him.”
Sarang set him down gently on one of the benches, then reached for a towel.
“Your birthday is coming up,” Shiloh changed the subject, sensing he’d hit a wall. “You’ll make time for me, won’t you?”
The underboss paused, in the process of drying his hair.
“You made plans?” Shiloh’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “With who?”
“Your brother intends to throw a celebration in my honor. It should help boost morale.”
“My brother?” Sure.
“I assume it was really Sky’s idea.”
Of course it was. Kian’s mate was the tenderhearted sort. Things like birthdays probably mattered to him. That was fine though. If it was Sky’s doing, Shiloh could still make this work.
“I wonder if that’s why Sloane is looking for me.
” His sister would be on the main level around this time.
Hopefully in a corner booth taking a break, so he wouldn’t have to deal with small talk with customers.
The hot tub had finally relaxed him—and eased any lingering ache in his rear—the last thing he needed was for the tension to return.
“I’ll inform the princess you’ve gone to bed early and will check in with her in the morning,” Sarang stated, not even bothering to ask Shiloh’s opinion on the matter.
“I’ll see her now.”
“You’re tired. You should—”
“Rang.” Shiloh was going to insist, but he noticed that the alpha had a sheen of sweat on his brow, despite them having moved out of the heated pool room. “Are you un—” His hand was slapped away when he lifted it, cutting him short.
A mixture of surprise, regret, embarrassment, and sadness rushed through him, there and gone, like a flash in the pan.
But even that momentary weakness pissed him off.
“Forgive me,” Sarang said, voice low and slightly breathy. “I…don’t know why I did that. It’s just…” He sniffed the air. “Are you leaking pheromones?”
“No.” Not any more than usual, in any case. Their entire relationship he’d released them on a low constant stream to get the alpha accustomed to them. He’d never really reacted before.
Was this because they’d slept together?
“Prince,” Bishop appeared in the doorway, his presence instantly irritating Sarang, who emitted a guttural warning growl. “I can escort you upstairs if the underboss is tied up.”
Shiloh wished he was tied up.
Tied up in his bed.
“That won’t be necessary,” Sarang stated in a clipped tone.
“I’m afraid it will be,” Bishop insisted. “You’ve been summoned by the Dominus.”