The dining hall of the Lin Manor was a cold, cavernous space that smelled of bitter tea and old traditions. Minister Lin sat at the head of the long sandalwood table, his robes stiff with the embroidery of his high office. He was a man who valued "Face" above all else, and his eldest son, Lin Cheng, had dragged that face through the mud of every gambling den in the capital.
Lu Hang sat at the very edge of his silk-cushioned chair, looking like a stray cat that had accidentally wandered into a palace. His silver-blue hair was tucked behind his ears, revealing the pale, thin curve of his neck—a neck that bore no mark, only the faint, fading bruise from where the "old" Lin Cheng had gripped him too hard the night before.
He hadn't touched his breakfast. The steaming bowl of bird's nest congee, worth more than his grandmother made in a month at her stall, sat untouched. To Lu Hang, the luxury felt like a trap.
"I heard a rumor from the servants this morning, Cheng," Minister Lin's voice was like the crack of a whip against stone. He didn't even look up from his tea. "They say you dragged this... peasant... into the master wing. Have you lost what little mind you had left?"
Lu Hang flinched so violently he nearly knocked over his spoon. "I-I'm sorry, Excellency..." he whispered, his violet eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I will move back to the side-wing immediately. I didn't mean to—"
"Sit down, Lu Hang."
The voice didn't come from the Minister. It came from the man sitting next to him.
Lin Cheng leaned back in his chair, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow over the table. In his old life, he had been a ghost, a man who couldn't even walk to the bathroom without gasping for air. Now, he felt the raw, primal thrum of Alpha power in his veins. His amber eyes, once clouded by wine, were now as sharp and clear as a predator's.
"He isn't moving anywhere, Father," Lin Cheng said. His voice was a deep, resonant baritone that seemed to make the very lanterns in the room flicker.
Minister Lin finally looked up, his eyes widening in shock. This wasn't the slurring, pathetic drunkard who usually crawled to the table at noon. This man sat with the posture of a King.
"You dare speak back to me?" the Minister hissed. "After the disgrace you've brought to this family? You were drugged in a brothel with a stall-boy! You've lost your right to sit for the Imperial Exams! You are a stain on the Lin name!"
Lu Hang's head bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the table. He felt the shame like a physical weight. It's my fault, he thought. If I hadn't been there... if I weren't so weak...
Suddenly, a large, warm hand covered Lu Hang's trembling ones.
The contact was electric. Lin Cheng's skin was hot—radiating the healthy, vibrant heat of an S-Class Alpha. He didn't just touch Lu Hang; he gripped his hand, lacing their fingers together in a silent, iron-clad promise.
"Disgrace?" Lin Cheng laughed, a cold, dangerous sound. "The only disgrace in this room is a Minister who allows his son's husband to starve in a freezing side-room while he sips expensive tea."
He turned his head, his gaze pinning his father to his seat. The Alpha pheromones—the scent of Dark Cedar and Cold Rain—began to leak from Lin Cheng, heavy and suffocating. Even the Minister, an Alpha himself, felt the primal urge to submit.
"Lu Hang is my husband," Lin Cheng continued, his thumb slowly, deliberately stroking the back of Lu Hang's hand. "He is the First Lady of this wing. From this day forward, if a single servant forgets to bring him charcoal, or if a single person in this manor speaks to him without a bow... I will consider it a personal insult to my blood."
Lu Hang looked up, his breath catching in his throat. He looked at Lin Cheng's profile—the sharp jaw, the determined brow. Who is this? he wondered. This isn't the man who stole my money. This isn't the man who called me trash.
"And as for the Imperial Exams," Lin Cheng added, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't worry, Father. I'll take my seat at the Academy tomorrow. I don't need your 'Face' to win. I'll win because I'm the best scholar this Empire has seen in a hundred years."
Lin Cheng stood up, pulling a stunned Lu Hang with him. He didn't wait for a reply. He swept the Omega into his arms, lifting him as if he weighed nothing.
"Eat in our room, Lu Hang," Lin Cheng whispered against the boy's ear, his hot breath making the silver-blue hair flutter. "I've had the kitchens prepare something better. And tonight... we have a lot of lost time to make up for."
As they walked out, leaving the Minister speechless and trembling with rage, Lu Hang buried his face in Lin Cheng's chest. For the first time in his life, the scent of an Alpha didn't make him want to run. It made him want to stay forever.