Chapter 22
“How do you feel?” Sarang played a card and casually asked, trying to keep the mood light. He’d left the omega alone to stew for a whole day and a half, but hadn’t been capable of staying away longer than that.
The two of them were on the bed, Shiloh still naked, his lap covered by the blankets. If he was bothered by it, he didn’t say, hadn’t complained once or asked for clothing. In fact, he’d been nothing but agreeable, pliant and seemingly relaxed.
Was it an act? Was he trying to fool Sarang again?
He’d been collecting stories from the Hierarchy members who were on planet, learning what he could about the prince’s past and who he’d been before Sarang had entered the picture. Who he’d been known as.
Apparently, a straight up demon.
At the age of sixteen he’d earned the moniker, Garmr, based off an ancient mythological hound that guarded the gates of Hel.
His mother specifically sent him on the bloodiest missions, trusting that he’d get the job done since carnage was his vice.
On one of those missions, Shiloh had been ambushed and forced to flee.
That was how he’d run into Sarang.
But his emotional range, or lack thereof, had been kept close to the chest. No one seemed to know that Shiloh had done more than simply act weak in front of Sarang. People had even told him they equated his relaxed personality to their meeting.
Basically, Sarang was not the only one who’d been fooled as he’d initially believed.
Others had thought the prince was in love with Lane.
That he’d been traumatized by the breeding den.
That he was grieving. That he’d softened since Sarang had come into his life, the bloodlust suddenly curbed, but was otherwise the same as he’d always been.
Shiloh hadn’t just tricked him.
He’d tricked the whole world.
Which somehow led to Sarang realizing there was more truth to what Sloane had been saying. Shiloh was a phenomenal actor, but four years was a long time for anyone to uphold a made-up persona flawlessly.
Either Shiloh had never been as emotionless as he maintained, or he’d somehow developed a sense of consideration toward others once Sarang had entered the picture. It was impossible to know which it was, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t really the important take away.
“Hurts to sit still.” As if to prove it, Shiloh shifted into a new position for the tenth time since Sarang’s arrival. “But it’s fine. I’ll recover and get better at it.”
“Better at what?”
“Taking your knot.” He tipped his head. “Actually, it might have been your cock that did damage first. It was difficult for me the first couple of times as well. Don’t worry. After some more practice, I’ll be a pro.”
It was still an adjustment, listening to him talk like that.
He was so flippant about sex, so open, and eager.
Having locked Sarang up and used rut inducers as a torture method should have been enough to knock sense into Sarang’s brain, and yet he was caught off guard whenever Shiloh spoke like this.
And instantly turned on.
“Do you need anything?” Sarang didn’t bother confirming or denying whether they’d fuck again.
“Everything is fine, alpha.” Shiloh played a card, not aware that Sarang saw his free hand slip a little too closely to the draw pile.
This was their third game in a row and Sarang had been using it as a means to glean more information. A lot could be discovered about a person based on how they approached a friendly competition.
Sarang took his turn and then breezily said, “You’re cheating, omega.”
Shiloh paused.
“Do you want to win that badly?” Sarang asked.
“Isn’t winning the goal?” he countered. “Does it matter how I do it, so long as I’m the victor in the end?”
“If you stab everyone else in the back, yes, it does matter.”
Shiloh clicked his tongue. “Stupid.”
“There are rules for a reason.”
“Rules are subjective.”
“Rules are set by those with power,” Sarang corrected. “Right now, that’s me. No more cheating. Win fair and square, or accept defeat like a good sport.”
“I have to be good at games now too?”
He quirked a brow. “You’ve always excelled in that department, and we both know it. Which is why I’m telling you to stop. I won’t be so easily fooled a second time, so if you’re trying to placate me, don’t bother. I meant what I said. We’re using this time to get to know each other again.”
He wanted his omega to realize he wasn’t as different as he believed.
There were faked traits, of course. Shiloh wasn’t quiet because he was shy, or overly anxious, like he’d led Sarang and the rest of the new Eumia to believe.
He hadn’t pretended to be dumb, but he’d seriously downplayed his intelligence, slipping up in conversation whenever something he deemed important arose.
Sarang had noted those occasions, had attested them to years of grooming from his mother to take the throne after her. The reality was, Shiloh cared about the Eumia, or, at least some of the people in it.
Tull said the twins planned on leaving this life behind up until Sarang had come along. Then he’d changed his mind, put off his plans. He’d probably intended to convince Sarang to leave with him once the time came, but then Kian was discovered…
Shiloh had stuck around to protect Sarang, Bishop, Diogenes, Tull, and who knew who else.
Instead of placing them out of Kian’s sight, he’d made sure they were close enough for the new Dominus to see.
Had ensured Kian witnessed their usefulness and competence firsthand.
Now, aside from Bishop who remained solely at Shiloh’s side, the rest of them had developed a sort of friendship and respect with Kian.
They were safe, even without Shiloh’s interference.
But they’d only been able to survive this long thanks to Shiloh’s quick thinking and self-sacrifice.
“Liking cake wasn’t a lie.” He motioned toward the end table where the empty plate sat. He’d brought a slice of tres leches for Shiloh, and the omega had polished it off in under four minutes.
Shiloh grunted. “Why bother lying about something like that?”
“Because you knew I found your sweet tooth endearing.”
The omega glanced up at him from beneath thick black lashes. “Found? As in past tense?”
“If I tell you it no longer appeals to me, will you change your answer?”
He considered it, then shook his head. “I like cake too much.”
“More than you like me?”
Shiloh rested back against the headboard. “Are you saying you’ll be with me if I give it up forever?”
He scowled. “I’m not going to hold things you enjoy over your head.”
“Why not? Didn’t you say you were doing this to teach me a lesson?
Get me in line, alpha. I won’t blame you for any means you use to do it.
Whether you started out this way or you hardened thanks to your involvement with the Eumia, you’re a mafia member.
Playing dirty?” He held up a card and tossed it into the center pile.
“That isn’t beneath you. It’s merely survival. ”
“I’ll return every insult you gave me,” Sarang reminded slowly. “Withholding food wasn’t one of them.”
Not only had he been well fed at the hotel, all of the dishes had been his favorites as well. It was clear the omega had taken the time to learn his likes and dislikes. That he’d actually cared enough to bother.
Shiloh’s feelings for him were real.
He wasn’t the only one here who needed to change in order for this to work.
“Let’s both admit we were wrong,” Sarang suggested, acting like he’d just come up with the idea even though he’d been leading them in this direction.
“Ready to accept that the life-bond has no way of making me develop attachments toward you?” Shiloh tilted his head, inspecting him when he didn’t immediately deny it. “Wow. You really are, aren’t you?”
“I saw the research packet you had put together about Grays,” he confessed. “I know you figured that part out on your own already.”
It was something Sarang should have done himself, but he’d been too much of a coward. Admitting he was wrong had seemed every bit as daunting as discovering he was right, because in either situation, he would have had to put up a stronger barrier between the two of them.
At least, that’s what he’d believed before. What he would have done if Shiloh really had been the soft, pampered prince who needed protecting above all else.
“Ah, so you’ll believe numbers, but not me.” Shiloh tossed another card.
“Does that make you angry?”
“Trying to learn my triggers?”
“Trying to see how much of you was real, and how much was fiction.” The statement was too on the nose, and he realized as much when Shiloh’s gaze altered, turning quizzical.
“You never knew me, Rang,” the prince didn’t hesitate to announce, but the only person in this room he was fooling was himself.
“You like cake,” Sarang repeated, then reached into his pocket, “and you like shiny things.”
Shiloh stared at his clasped fist for a moment before holding out his palm, frowning when the small item was placed in his hand. “What’s this?”
“A marble.” Sarang had purchased a whole bag of them. They were vibrant and shiny, made from polished gemstones and had cost him a third of his savings, but Shiloh didn’t need to learn all of that just yet.
“Okay…And you’re giving it to me…because?” He rolled it between his fingers. “What do I do with it?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Its purpose?”
“You like it.”
“It’s a rock.” Shiloh stared at it a little longer and then clasped it tightly and went back to his cards, selecting one to play with an intensity that seemed somewhat forced. “I don’t know why a stupid pebble is making me happy.”
Sarang felt like he’d won from that alone. From the fact that his omega wasn’t even going to try to deny that it did, in fact, please him.