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.