Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 300: You survived

Chapter 300: Chapter 300: You survived
Pain had texture.
That was the first thing Ethan understood when the world crawled back into focus.
It wasn’t just the sharp sting that came with penetration and blood. No, sharp would have been merciful, something he could grit his teeth through until it passed. This hurt was layered, deep, and stubborn, a drag through muscle and bone that pulsed in slow waves. His right shoulder felt like someone had jammed fire into it and then politely asked him to breathe normally while it burned.
So breathing became an exercise.
In.
Out.
’Be calm.’
’Don’t make any sudden movement.’
’Don’t make the pain harder than it already was.’
The room smelled like antiseptic and filtered air, the very expensive sterile that meant someone had signed a lot of papers to make sure he was protected.
The ceiling was high. The lighting was soft and golden, not the white one of the regular area of hospitals. VVIP, his brain supplied dimly, someone told him at some point.
This was not the kind of room hospitals gave to
"someone unfortunate."
This was the kind reserved for
"someone politically inconvenient to lose."
There was a soft sound somewhere near him.
Ethan turned his head a little too fast.
Pain punched through his shoulder viciously.
He hissed.
"Slowly," Trevor’s voice said, calm and authoritative. "You will tear the sutures if you move like that."
Ethan blinked until Trevor’s face stopped doubling.
Trevor looked... like the Grand Duke.
Composed. Hands relaxed behind his back like he had all the time in the world. But his eyes were not calm. Not even close. There was something like fury buried deep and chained in place, something lethal and personal.
Ethan swallowed, throat dry.
"Is it so bad that the Grand Duke needs to be here?" He stuttered.
"Well... what do you want to know?" Trevor asked at last, voice even, expression deceptively mild. "The state of your friends, or what happened?"
Ethan took a slow breath and tried to marshal his thoughts around the pain.
Humor was easier than fear. "Leon and Maverick first, then whatever this is." He lifted his left hand and gestured vaguely toward his blood-soaked, immobilized shoulder. "And maybe some context? Did Detective Albrecht give me the cold shoulder?"
Trevor’s lips twitched despite himself.
Of course the idiot was making jokes while half-broken and covered in unknown chemicals. He was, after all, a friend of Christopher.
"Leon and Maverick are recovering," Trevor answered. "They’ve already asked to see you as soon as it’s allowed. Maverick will take longer; he lost a concerning amount of blood. Leon will be fine physically. Shaken... but unharmed beyond sedation. They did not get to do anything else to him."
Ethan’s eyes closed for a moment, breath leaving him slowly, like his ribs had been holding it hostage. His voice came out quieter. "Good... good."
Trevor let him have that heartbeat.
Then he continued.
"As for you," he said, gaze sharpening again, "you saved them. You also nearly died doing it. The beam that pierced your shoulder missed the brachial artery by an insultingly small margin. The chemicals that soaked you were a cocktail no civilian medical team should have had to identify..."
He paused, and Ethan’s chest tightened; it had nothing to do with the pain, but with what he was about to ask.
"What are you not saying, Your Grace?" Ethan asked, polite out of habit, uncertain out of instinct. Titles felt suddenly too large for the room and too small for the weight in Trevor’s eyes.
"Trevor," the man corrected quietly. "Just Trevor."
He breathed once, as if choosing which part of the truth to let into the world first.
"The chemicals that fell on you weren’t just sedatives or neutralizers," he said. "They were part of an experimental compound designed to artificially create dominant signatures."
Ethan stared.
That did not sound like medicine, but rather cruel experimentation on unwilling subjects.
Trevor continued.
"You won’t become a dominant. That isn’t how this works. But exposure on open tissue, combined with shock, blood loss, and the way your nervous system responded... the doctors believe your secondary gender may change."
Silence settled heavily into the room.
Ethan’s voice came out thin. "Change... as in..."
"You may be an omega," Trevor said gently. "Possibly an alpha. The probability is leaning omega based on your labs from this morning. The compounds push toward vulnerability responses in most subjects rather than elevated dominance. They were designed to create controllable assets, not equals."
There were a thousand possible responses to that.
Ethan managed one.
"Oh."
It slipped out too quietly to be humor and too steady to be panic. Just... a stunned sound from a brain trying to rearrange a life.
Trevor didn’t fill the silence with comfort he hadn’t earned.
He simply remained.
"Christopher knows," he added softer. "And Dax has already requested your transfer to Saha. Their labs have dealt with versions of this.
Their experts are the best in the world at undoing damage that never should have occurred. You will have care. Options. Control, as much as anyone can have when fate misbehaves."
Ethan let the ceiling come back into focus slowly.
"So," he said eventually, voice smaller than he liked, "I might wake up in a few weeks a completely different... person."
"No," Trevor replied calmly. "You will wake up as Ethan Miller. Whatever your biology chooses to do... whatever someone forced upon it... you are still you. Biology changes behavior only as much as we allow it. And you," his gaze sharpened, "are not the kind of man who folds because life rewrites terms without your permission."
Ethan laughed once, breath catching with pain halfway through it. "That sounded like something someone would write on inspirational posters.
’Hang in there, the universe hasn’t finished wrecking you.
’"
Trevor’s mouth twitched.
"I can order better posters made," he said lightly. "Gold trimming. Dignified font."
That earned a real laugh from Ethan, only to be followed by a groan as the shoulder flared.
"God, don’t make me laugh," he muttered, jaw clenched, brows pulling together as he rode out the wave.
Trevor’s expression darkened just enough to reveal how much he hated that sound.
"What about the Detective..." he asked quietly.
Trevor didn’t sugarcoat.
"He was an accomplice."
The words landed like a weight dropped into the room.
Ethan blinked, taken aback at the certainty of it.
"He was the one kidnapping omegas and alphas," Trevor continued, voice flat now, stripped of any attempt to soften the reality. "He delivered them to that facility personally. The reason no one came tonight wasn’t negligence. They were prepared for you to show up at the front door, Ethan. They wanted you there."
"Of course they did," Ethan breathed, bitterness quiet and tired.
Trevor nodded once.
"They intended to put you with the others and erase you with the building. The official story would have been that you interfered. That a civilian with no authorization walked into an illegal research site and destabilized it. That the ’unknown perpetrators’ panicked and fled, triggering demolition. It was meant to read as tragedy. As recklessness. And then," his voice thinned into something cold and surgical, "they were going to bury you twice. Once under concrete. And then under headlines."
Ethan’s jaw clenched.
"So I get to be the villain and the cautionary tale," he muttered. "Efficient."
"They already had media angles drafted," Trevor continued, and the fury beneath his composure showed in the careful way he said it. "Influence networks prepared. Commentators ready to shape public opinion. Interviews lined up. You were meant to die blamed. Leon was meant to die erased. And the rest were never meant to be people in the first place."
Silence stretched.
Hospital ventilation hummed faintly overhead. Somewhere, distant footsteps echoed.
Ethan stared at nothing for a long moment.
"How long," he asked finally, voice low, "has this been happening?"
Trevor did not say long enough to be designed. He did not say long enough for infrastructure to exist. He did not say long enough for people to be missing without anyone asking why.
He only answered with, "Longer than it should have been allowed."
Ethan swallowed.
"That’s not reassuring."
"It wasn’t meant to be."
Trevor’s gaze softened just enough to return to him rather than the battlefield forming behind his eyes.
"You survived," he said simply.