Forced Marking of an S-Class Alpha - Chapter 4

The massive crystal chandelier cast a warm yellow glow, turning the floating cigar smoke into a dreamlike haze. The air was thick with perfume and the clinking of glasses. An old song from the Paramount era played on the gramophone, matching the excited gazes of the crowd in the auction house.

It was a scene of decadent luxury, a peak of absurdity.

“Starting price, five million!” The auctioneer’s voice nearly cracked as he shouted the number. The microphone in his hand was slick with cold sweat.

“Eight million.”

The bead curtain of the east-side box on the first floor swayed slightly as a hand wearing a full green jade bracelet reached out. It slowly flicked the ash from a cigarette.

Zhao Wan’er didn’t stand up. She leaned lazily against the soft couch, her expensive velvet qipao accentuating her voluptuous figure. Through the curling smoke, her sharp phoenix eyes narrowed, lingering greedily on the man in the cage.

“Those eyes are stunning… so wild,” she said, her voice low but filled with an arrogant certainty. “If I gouged them out and preserved them in formalin by my bed, they’d shine brighter than any night pearl. A top-tier specimen like this only becomes truly interesting after you break his bones and make him beg for mercy.”

A low, knowing laughter rippled through the room.

“Ten million!”

In the west-side box, Director Li, a man with a protruding belly, pushed away the trembling Beta boy in his arms. His fat face glistened with oil as he said lecherously, “Miss Zhao has such exquisite taste. But this top-tier Alpha’s pheromones… even as a bedwarmer, he’d be a masterpiece. I’d like to see what he tastes like.”

“Twelve million!”

“Fifteen million!”

The price shot up like a runaway horse, skyrocketing to twenty million in just a few minutes.

The entire auction room descended into a morbid frenzy. The Hong Kong socialites, who usually prided themselves on being refined gentlemen and ladies, now resembled sharks scenting blood. They fought tooth and nail for the “fresh meat” known as X-9.

They weren’t just buying an Alpha. They were using this brutal method to experience the twisted pleasure of crushing a top-tier Alpha—someone at the peak of the food chain—beneath their feet and humiliating him at will.

It was a reversal of power, a distorted form of revenge.

Yet, amidst this boiling madness, the most mysterious black booth in the center of the second floor remained deathly silent.

Jiang Xu sank into the leather sofa, idly swirling half a glass of red wine. He watched the frenzied crowd below, a mocking smile curving his lips as he clicked his tongue.

“These lunatics. Twenty million for a nuclear bomb that could blow up at any moment? Do they have a death wish?” He took a sip of wine, shook his head, and turned to the figure standing by the floor-to-ceiling window.

“Young Master Shen, you’re not actually planning to buy him, are you?”

Shen Yanzhou still had his back to him, standing before the massive glass pane. His rare silver-gray eyes pierced through the window and the clamoring crowd, fixed intently on the silent man in the cage below.

Downstairs, the bidding gradually slowed.

When Zhao Wan’er casually said “Twenty-five million,” the entire room fell into a brief, dead silence.

She set down her teacup and looked around with a light smile. “Everyone, please show me some respect. I’ve taken a liking to this ‘stray dog.’ Whether I use him to guard my gate or warm my bed, he’ll be entering the Zhao family home tonight. We’re all reasonable people here. Surely no one would ruin our good relationship over a mere toy, right?”

Her words were laced with the suffocating pressure of a powerful family.

The auctioneer wiped the greasy sweat from his face and raised the gavel, his voice trembling. “Twenty-five million once! Twenty-five million twice! Does anyone else—”

“Thirty million.”

A cold, lazy, yet piercing voice abruptly cut through the heat of the crowd.

The voice wasn’t loud, but it hit the room like a bucket of ice water, instantly extinguishing the commotion. His nonchalant tone made it sound as if he wasn’t bidding thirty million in cold hard cash, but merely tossing three coins to a beggar on the street.

The crowd erupted in an uproar.

The smile on Zhao Wan’er’s face froze instantly.

She slowly turned her head, her gaze fixed on the dark window on the second floor with chilling intensity.

“I don’t recognize you, friend,” she said, her voice strained as if forced through gritted teeth, carrying a cold warning. “In Hong Kong Island, some things have a price tag, but not everyone has the life to claim them. I’ve already claimed this ‘stray dog.’ Why don’t you show the Zhao family of the City of Eternal Night some respect—”

Shen Yanzhou didn’t even spare her a glance.

He turned slightly, a flicker of impatience crossing his brow. “Tell her I don’t like noise,” he said coldly to Jiang Xu.

Jiang Xu shrugged helplessly, walked to the railing, and shouted down with a smile, “Miss Zhao, this young master will take it for thirty million. If you can’t match that, don’t… disturb the peace. After all, in Hong Kong Island, face is only given by those who can afford it.”

Zhao Wan’er’s face turned ashen. Just as she was about to raise her paddle and bid again, her assistant grabbed her wrist with a death grip.

“Miss! You can’t bid any more!” the assistant hissed, her face pale. “The board is already furious about your spending. And that voice… it sounded like… like him from the Shen family.”

The Shen family.

In Hong Kong Island, there was only one Shen family, the one that controlled half the shipping industry. Its heir, Shen Yanzhou, was infamous as the “Mad Beauty.”

Zhao Wan’er gritted her teeth and glared at the closed black window before finally looking away in frustration. She had no desire to cross the Shen family, and certainly not to offend Shen Yanzhou over a mere Alpha toy.

BAM! The gavel struck the block, and the deal was sealed.

“Congratulations… to our distinguished guest on the second floor for winning No. X-9 with a bid of thirty million!”

The underground transfer area.

The air here was even more damp than upstairs, mixed with the nauseating smell of blood, old rust, and pungent disinfectant.

Several burly men pushed a massive alloy cage and stopped in front of Shen Yanzhou.

Shen Yanzhou stood in the shadows, holding an unlit long cigarette. He raised his eyes slightly, his gaze passing through the cold iron bars to land on the man inside the cage.

Up close, the Alpha’s oppressive presence felt even heavier. He was wrapped in special restraints, his muscular lines faintly visible under the tight fabric. A half-broken mask covered his face, revealing only his dark eyes and a sharp jawline.

The man in the cage slowly lifted his head. Their gazes met silently through the rusty iron bars.

In that instant, Shen Yanzhou even thought he could smell a scent of gunpowder, blood, and fir.

It was extremely domineering and aggressive.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. A primal shiver ran through him. He reached out his pale, almost transparent hand, slipping it through the gap in the iron bars and slowly moving it toward the man’s face.

His long fingers hovered just before the half-broken mask. With a gentle lift, he could see the face worth Thirty Million.

The man in the cage didn’t move. He just watched Shen Yanzhou silently, his dark eyes reflecting Shen Yanzhou’s cold and beautiful face. The man’s breath was heavy and hot, brushing against Shen Yanzhou’s cool fingertips.

“What do you look like?” Shen Yanzhou asked casually as he withdrew his hand.

Silence filled the cage for a moment.

“Not as good as you,” the man replied, his voice raspy and low, his tone flat.

Shen Yanzhou looked up and studied him again. A faint, almost pleased smile flickered in his eyes.

“At least you know your place.” He turned away, not sparing the man in the cage another glance.

He threw a cold command at the auction house manager, who had just rushed in, trembling with fear.

“Clean him up.”

“Inside and out. I can’t stand that sickening smell of blood on him.”

“Then send him to Repulse Bay No. 7.”

“Yes… yes, sir! Rest assured, Young Master, we’ll get him spotless! Not a single scent will remain!” The manager bowed repeatedly, sweat pouring down his face.

Without another word, Shen Yanzhou turned and disappeared into the dark, rainy night.

Repulse Bay, Mid-Levels Villa. This was Shen Yanzhou’s private domain, the most expensive and most secluded spot on Hong Kong Island. Nestled between the mountains and the sea, it was so quiet that even birds were rare. Tonight, shrouded in a torrential downpour, it felt like a lonely island in the ocean.

The top-tier Alpha he had just purchased was too dangerous to bring to the Shen family old house. He could only keep him here, confined and caged.

Shen Yanzhou returned home late at night. He tossed his car keys onto the marble console table in the entryway and walked straight into the bathroom.

The smell of tobacco, alcohol, and the decadent decay of the black market clung to him. Even worse were the Alpha’s pheromones, so intense they felt like they were burning holes into his skin. He felt suffocated.

He turned on the shower and cranked the temperature to the highest setting.

He shed his rain-soaked trench coat and began unbuttoning his shirt. One, two… The black silk shirt slid to the floor like a pool of ink, revealing a body that rarely saw the light of day.

He was painfully thin, his skin so pale it looked sickly. His shoulder blades protruded like the wings of a broken butterfly. Every line of his body was as delicate as porcelain crafted by God himself—breathtakingly beautiful, yet fragile beyond measure.

Steam rose and quickly fogged the mirror.

Shen Yanzhou closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the water wash over his face. Droplets trailed down his straight nose and pale lips. His fingers slowly moved down to his long neck.

There, beneath the fragile skin, pale blue veins pulsed faintly with his heartbeat. Further down was his scent gland, usually sealed tight with a specially made suppressor patch.

Tonight, after being exposed to X-9’s overpowering pheromones at close range, the long-dormant gland throbbed with an unbearable swelling.

It was both itchy and painful.

It felt like countless ants were gnawing at him or like a fire was burning beneath his skin.

To ease the discomfort, he pressed his fingertips hard into the soft flesh around the gland. His nails dug in, bringing a sharp sting. This pain, mixed with a strange pleasure, acted like a poison, temporarily numbing the vast, abyss-like void in his heart.

“Ugh…” He couldn’t help but let out a low moan, the sound lost in the rushing water.

But his mind uncontrollably replayed those eyes. Those deep, pitch-black eyes.

That man… he should be in the basement by now, right? Would the auction house put a bite guard on him? Would they chain him up? What would those powerful hands do if they ever broke free?

A strange, dangerous restlessness spread through him. Instead of fear, it sent a long-forgotten thrill through his already numb nerves.

Half an hour later, the sound of the shower finally stopped. Shen Yanzhou stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a navy blue silk robe. The belt was tied loosely, revealing a large expanse of his pale, cool-toned chest.

His wet hair clung to his face. He walked barefoot across the expensive Persian wool rug, his footsteps completely silent.

The living room was dark. Only the occasional flash of lightning from outside momentarily illuminated the dead silence, casting eerie, elongated shadows.

He approached the liquor cabinet, intending to pour himself a drink.

Crack.

A faint, sharp sound echoed through the storm-lashed night, jarringly loud in the stillness. It was the sound of knuckles cracking.

Shen Yanzhou’s fingers froze on the bottle. Every muscle in his body tensed instantly.

Someone else was here.

He had already dismissed the butler and the servants. The bodyguards would never enter the main house without his orders.

Unless it was… him…

“Who’s there?” Shen Yanzhou demanded, his voice echoing through the empty living room.

No one answered. Only the storm raged outside, the wind howling and the rain drumming relentlessly.

But he could feel it. A cold, damp, and predatory presence was closing in from all directions, like invisible tentacles coiling around his ankles in the dark.

It was the same scent he’d encountered at the auction. But this time, the metallic tang of blood was gone, replaced by a crisp, clean aroma of cedar and seawater.

It was purer and far more dangerous.

He spun around, his hand instinctively reaching for the Browning pistol he usually kept at his lower back. But he’d just stepped out of the shower and was wearing nothing but a silk bathrobe.

In that instant, a dark figure lunged from the shadows like a cheetah.

A pair of cold, powerful hands, calloused and rough, clamped around his waist from behind with startling force.

Before Shen Yanzhou could even gasp, he was yanked into a broad, frigid embrace.

The man was still dripping wet. His soaked cotton shirt clung to Shen Yanzhou’s thin robe, the piercing chill seeping through the fabric and sending shivers racing across his skin.

Then, the man slowly and heavily buried his head into the crook of Shen Yanzhou’s neck.

“Hah…” His breath was heavy and scalding hot, spraying against the most sensitive part of Shen Yanzhou’s nape.

Cold rainwater dripped from the man’s hair, sliding down Shen Yanzhou’s slender neck and into the depths of his bathrobe like icy little snakes slithering wildly across his skin.

Cold and heat.

Ice and fire.

Extreme danger and lethal temptation.

Following this, the man’s Alpha pheromones erupted without restraint. No longer blocked by the iron bars, the scent was as intense as strong liquor, instantly shattering all of Shen Yanzhou’s defenses. He could even feel his scent gland throbbing violently, the surface skin itching and swelling, and the heat searing his lower back until it went numb.

His legs gave way involuntarily. If not for the iron arms locking him from behind, he would have collapsed to the floor.

Shen Yanzhou fought the urge to turn around and tear out the man’s throat. He tilted his head slightly, staring at the dark head buried against his neck in the darkness.

“Are you… the Thirty Million?”

Support