CHAPTER 4

"What the hell is this place? It looks like a cemetery for billionaires."

Samuel gripped the door handle of the black SUV as it rolled through the iron gates of the Stain Estate. Stone gargoyles perched on the high walls, their sightless eyes tracking the car's movement. Elite warriors in tactical gear stood every ten yards, their scents—heavy with woodsmoke and ozone—cutting through the cabin air.

"Sam, look! Big doggies!" Liam pressed his face against the window, his breath fogging the glass. He pointed at a pair of massive grey wolves stalking the perimeter of the lawn.

"They aren't pets, Liam," Samuel snapped, his voice tight. He adjusted his high collar, making sure the concealment cream hadn't sweated off. The mark on his neck throbbed. Every yard they moved closer to the main house made the pulse in his veins hit harder.

The car stopped. The door was ripped open by a man with a scarred jaw and dead eyes. Samuel stepped out, the gravel crunching under his boots like breaking bone. This wasn't a home. It was a gilded cage, and the bars were made of silver and wolf-bone.

"Your rooms are in the East Wing," the guard grunted. "The King expects you at dinner. Seven sharp. Don't be late."

Samuel paced the length of the marble suite. Liam was sprawled on a velvet rug, already deep into a new tablet he’d somehow 'borrowed' from the driver.

"Stay here," Samuel ordered. "Don't touch anything. Especially the food."

He slipped out into the hallway, his footsteps silent. He needed a layout. He needed an exit. But as he rounded a corner near the grand library, voices drifted through the heavy oak doors.

"He's a liability, Adrian," a voice hissed. Thomas Stain. Samuel recognized the oily tone from the news clips. "The King cannot be tied to a human gutter-rat. Especially one with a bastard pup."

"The boy is my blood, Thomas," Adrian’s voice was a low rumble that vibrated through the floor. "And the man is mine. Tread carefully."

"The pack is restless. Isabelle is furious. If you don't dispose of them, Phase Two becomes inevitable."

Samuel backed away, his heart hammering against his ribs. Phase Two. They weren't just unwanted; they were targets in a coup.

The dining hall was a cavern of cold stone and candlelight. A long mahogany table stretched into the gloom, occupied by the high-ranking members of the Stain family. Thomas sat to Adrian’s right, his eyes like two chips of ice.

"A toast," Thomas said, standing up as Samuel took his seat at the far end. "To the return of the... guest. And to the future of the Stain bloodline."

A servant poured a deep red wine into Samuel’s glass. Samuel didn't touch it. He watched the way Thomas’s fingers drummed on the table.

"Drink, Samuel," Adrian commanded from the head of the table. His silver eyes were fixed on Samuel, intense and unreadable. "It's a peace offering."

Samuel picked up the glass. He brought it to his lips. The scent hit him—metallic, sharp, stinging. Silver nitrate. A lethal dose for any wolf, and a painful death for a human. He looked at Thomas. The man was smiling, waiting for the first sign of agony.

Samuel downed the entire glass in one go.

He waited for the fire. He waited for his throat to close up. Instead, a strange, cooling sensation spread from his stomach. His Omega blood didn't boil; it roared. It felt like a dam breaking inside his chest.

"Ahhh!" Samuel gasped, dropping the glass. It shattered on the floor.

His skin began to glow—not a faint light, but a searing, solar gold. His pupils bled out, the brown swallowed by a brilliant, metallic gold that lit up the dark hall.

"What the f**k?" someone at the table yelled.

"Impossible," Thomas whispered, his face turning ghost-white. "He should be dead."

The silver hadn't killed him; it had acted as a catalyst. Samuel’s body arched, his muscles seizing. He wasn't just an Omega. The ancient, dormant power of a Sun-Omega—a myth used to heal dying Kings—raced through his nerves. But with the power came a side effect.

A Heat Echo.

The air in the room suddenly smelled like Samuel. Not just cedar and rain, but something sweet, like honey and musk, amplified a thousand times. It was a call. A primal, desperate scream for a mate.

Samuel’s vision blurred. The only thing he could see was Adrian. The Alpha’s scent was a beacon, a drug he needed to survive the fire in his blood.

"Adrian," Samuel whimpered.

He didn't walk. He crawled. In front of the entire Stain leadership, Samuel scrambled across the floor, his fingers digging into the expensive carpet. He reached the head of the table and hauled himself up, climbing onto Adrian’s lap.

"Sam, stop," Adrian groaned, his hands shaking as they hovered over Samuel’s waist. Adrian’s own wolf was clawing at the surface, his eyes turning a lethal silver. "Not here."

"I need you. Please. Now." Samuel rubbed his face against Adrian’s neck, his teeth grazing the Alpha's pulse point. He was slick with sweat, his breath coming in hot, needy gasps. "F**k the dinner. Take me."

Adrian’s self-control, the legendary iron will of the Alpha King, snapped like a dry twig. He stood up, hoisting Samuel into his arms, Samuel’s legs locking tight around Adrian’s waist.

"Dinner is over," Adrian snarled at the room.

He didn't wait for a response. He kicked his chair back and carried Samuel out of the hall, leaving his family in a state of absolute, stunned silence.

The door to the master suite hadn't even finished closing before Adrian slammed Samuel against it.

"You're going to be the death of me," Adrian growled, his mouth crashing onto Samuel’s.

It was a war. Samuel tore at Adrian’s shirt, buttons flying across the room. He needed the contact. He needed the weight. Adrian stripped him bare in seconds, his hands rough and demanding.

He shoved Samuel onto the bed, the mattress groaning under their combined weight. Adrian didn't wait. He moved between Samuel’s legs, his cock hard and leaking, pressing against Samuel’s entrance.

"Look at me," Adrian commanded.

Samuel’s gold eyes met Adrian’s silver. Adrian lunged forward, burying himself deep in one sharp, agonizingly perfect thrust. Samuel let out a high-pitched scream, his back arching off the silk sheets, his fingers clawing at Adrian’s thick biceps.

"God, yes!" Samuel cried out, his legs wrapping around Adrian’s back, pulling him deeper.

The movement was frantic. Primal. Adrian pounded into him, each thrust making the heavy bed frame slam against the stone wall. The salt of their sweat mixed as they collided. Samuel leaned up, his mouth finding Adrian’s nipple, sucking hard as he moved his hips in a desperate rhythm.

"You're a weapon, Sam," Adrian gasped, his face buried in Samuel’s neck. "They... they want to use you. I won't let them."

He flipped Samuel over, shoving his face into the pillows. He grabbed Samuel’s hair, pulling his head back to expose the mark. From the doggie style position, Adrian drove into him with a brutal, rhythmic force that had Samuel sobbing and begging for more.

"Mine," Adrian growled, the vibration of his voice felt in Samuel’s very core. "Everything you are. Mine."

They peaked together, a literal explosion of gold and silver light filling the room as their scents fused. Adrian collapsed onto Samuel, his heavy, muscular frame pinning the smaller man into the mattress.

Samuel lay there, his limbs shaking, his skin stinging from the friction. The lingering warmth of the bond was a heavy blanket.

Adrian rolled off just enough to look Samuel in the eye. He took Samuel’s hand, biting his own thumb and pressing the blood against Samuel’s palm.

"No one touches what is mine," Adrian swore, his voice a blood oath. "Not the family. Not the gods."

Outside the heavy doors, in the dark corridor, Thomas Stain pulled a burner phone from his pocket. He watched the light under the King’s door.

"It’s time," Thomas whispered into the phone. "Call Chloe Bennett. Tell her the King is distracted. Initiate Phase Two."