CHAPTER 7

"Move your feet, Samuel. You’re standing like a statue in a storm."

Nathan Clarke shifted his weight, the gym’s rubber mats squeaking under his boots. He didn't wait for a reply. He lunged. A heavy, gloved fist whistled past Samuel’s ear, the wind of it stinging his skin.

Samuel exhaled, a sharp, ragged sound. He scrambled back, his heels catching on the edge of the sparring ring. "I’m an architect, Nathan. Not a gladiator. My job involves blueprints, not getting my ribs turned into dust."

"In this house, your job is surviving." Nathan’s face was a mask of cold granite. He didn't sweat. He didn't breathe hard. He just circled, his eyes tracking the pulse jumping in Samuel’s neck. "The pack elders are already sniffing for blood. If you can't defend the King’s mark, they’ll rip it out of your throat."

Samuel wiped sweat from his eyes, the salt stinging. The gym smelled of old leather, bleach, and the oppressive, metallic tang of Alpha pheromones. High above, the observation deck remained empty, but the weight of Adrian’s gaze felt like a physical pressure on Samuel’s spine. He knew the King was watching from behind the tinted glass.

"Again," Nathan barked.

Samuel threw a jab. It was weak. Nathan swiped it aside like a nuisance and stepped in, his shoulder slamming into Samuel’s chest. The air left Samuel’s lungs in a violent rush. He hit the mat hard, his vision swimming with grey spots.

"Get up. You’re a Sun-Omega. Act like it."

"F**k your titles," Samuel wheezed, rolling onto his side. He pushed himself up, his muscles screaming. The lab files from the night before were still burned into his brain. Subject 07. A manufactured miracle. "I’m a lab rat in a silk robe, Nathan. We both know it."

Nathan paused. His eyes flickered toward the observation window, then back to Samuel. For a split second, the coldness cracked. A flicker of something dark and restless stirred in the Beta’s expression. He stepped closer, dropping his voice until it was a low vibration only a wolf could catch.

"Then be a smart rat," Nathan hissed. He grabbed Samuel’s collar, ostensibly to haul him up, but his fingers pressed a small, hard object into Samuel’s palm. "Don't trust the walls in this place. Even the ones Adrian built."

Samuel’s fingers closed over the object. A flash drive. Cold. Heavy.

"What is—"

"Shut up and punch me," Nathan commanded.

Samuel swung. This time, he put his weight into it, his knuckles barking against Nathan’s jaw. The Beta took the hit, his head snapping back, a thin line of blood blooming on his lip.

"Better," Nathan grunted, spitting a red glob onto the mat. "Maybe you won't be a corpse by dinner."

The gym doors groaned open. Adrian stepped in, his presence immediately flattening the air in the room. He didn't look at Nathan. He looked at the red smear on Samuel’s cheek and the way his Consort was trembling.

"Leave us, Nathan," Adrian said. It wasn't a request.

Nathan bowed his head, the picture of a loyal soldier. "He's making progress, Sire. He just needs to lose the human hesitation."

The Beta walked out, his footsteps rhythmic and steady. Samuel watched him go, the flash drive burning a hole in his hand. He shoved it into the waistband of his gym shorts just as Adrian reached the ring.

"You’re bleeding," Adrian said, his voice dropping into that low, possessive register. He stepped over the ropes, his hand reaching out to catch Samuel’s chin.

"It’s a gym, Adrian. People bleed."

"Not you. Not without my permission." Adrian’s thumb brushed the cut on Samuel’s lip. The contact sent a jolt through Samuel’s system, the bond humming like a live wire.

The Alpha’s eyes darkened, the silver turning to a stormy, charcoal grey. He didn't say another word. He just grabbed the hem of Samuel’s sweat-soaked shirt and pulled it over his head. Samuel stood there, bare-chested and shivering, the mark on his neck pulsing a frantic, neon blue.

"You’re too tense," Adrian growled. He turned Samuel around, his large hands sinking into the muscles of Samuel’s shoulders, kneading the tension with a force that bordered on pain. "Nathan is right about one thing. You’re holding back. You’re still trying to be the man who ran away."

"That man knew who he was," Samuel gasped, his head falling forward as Adrian’s teeth grazed his shoulder blade. "This man is a ghost."

"Then let the ghost haunt me."

Adrian’s hands slid down, his palms rough against Samuel’s ribs. He unclipped Samuel’s shorts, letting them pool around his ankles on the rubber mat. Samuel kicked them away, his breath hitching as he felt the cold air hit his damp skin, followed immediately by the radiating heat of Adrian’s body.

Adrian didn't strip. He just unzipped his trousers, his cock already thick and straining against the fabric. He pushed Samuel down onto the sparring mat, the rubber cool and unforgiving against his back.

"Adrian, the guards... the cameras..."

"I own the guards. I turned off the cameras."

Adrian moved between Samuel’s legs, his thighs like pillars of iron pinning Samuel down. He leaned down, his mouth find Samuel's in a messy, tongue-heavy clash. He tasted like bourbon and power. Samuel’s hands flew to Adrian’s hair, tugging hard, his nails digging into the Alpha’s scalp as the Heat Echo began to roar in his ears again.

"Suck it," Adrian commanded, pulling back and guiding Samuel’s head down.

Samuel didn't hesitate. The bond had stripped away his shame, leaving only the raw, biological hunger. He took the Alpha’s cock into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the flared head, tasting the salty pre-cum. He sucked hard, his cheeks hollowing, his eyes fixed on Adrian’s face. Adrian let out a low, guttural groan, his hips twitching as he stared down at his Consort.

"Good boy," Adrian rasped.

He pulled Samuel up, flipping him over so he was face-down on the mat. He grabbed Samuel’s wrists and pinned them behind his back with one hand. With the other, he guided his cock to Samuel’s entrance.

"Please," Samuel whined, his forehead pressed against the rubber. "Now. Do it now."

Adrian lunged. He buried himself to the base in one violent, sliding motion. Samuel’s scream was muffled by the mat, his body jerking as the Alpha’s weight crushed him down. It was a 3D sensation—the heavy pressure of Adrian’s chest against his back, the sting of the bite mark, and the incredible, stretching fullness inside him.

Adrian didn't go slow. He pounded into Samuel with a rhythmic, brutal intensity. Every thrust made the mats shift. Samuel’s legs were spread wide, his knees raw from the friction, but he couldn't stop moving his hips back to meet the Alpha’s pace.

"Mine," Adrian hissed, his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin of Samuel’s shoulder. "Say it."

"Yours! F**k, Adrian, yes!"

The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, a humid cloud that seemed to trap them in the center of the ring. Samuel felt the moment the Alpha peaked. Adrian’s body went rigid, a series of powerful, deep pulses sending his hot seed flooding into Samuel’s core. Samuel followed immediately, his own climax hitting him so hard his vision fractured into sparks of gold light.

They stayed there for minutes, tangled and slick. Adrian’s literal weight was a comfort now, a grounding force that stopped Samuel from floating away into the madness of the Sun-Omega power.

Eventually, Adrian pulled back, the skin of his chest sticking to Samuel’s back with a wet sound. He grabbed a towel from the bench and wiped Samuel down with a territorial flick of the wrist.

"Get dressed," Adrian said, his voice returning to its granite-hard tone. "We have guests for the evening briefings."

Samuel dressed in silence, his limbs shaking, the physical "hangover" of the bond making his skin feel like it was buzzing. He felt the flash drive against his hip as he pulled his shorts up.

Once Adrian had left the gym, Samuel ducked into the locker room. He pulled the drive out, staring at the silver casing. Nathan Clarke wasn't just a trainer. He was a leak.

He found a discarded laptop in the security office, likely used for logging training hours. He plugged the drive in.

Files scrolled past. Maps of the estate. Guard rotations. But at the bottom, a hidden folder titled GREGORY.

Samuel clicked it. Inside were dozens of encrypted messages to a contact labeled The Shadow Pack. The most recent one was from an hour ago.

The boy is a True Blood. The mate is a Sun-Omega. Phase Two is a go. I have the entry points mapped. Tell Thomas the King’s neck is ready for the knife.

Samuel’s blood turned to ice. Nathan wasn't loyal to Adrian. He was in love with the power Thomas promised, feeding the opposition everything they needed to butcher the Stain line.

A footstep echoed in the hallway outside.

Samuel ripped the drive out, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked at the security monitors. Nathan was standing in the corridor, looking directly into the camera lens. He wasn't moving. He was just smiling.

The Beta raised a hand and made a slow, slicing motion across his throat.