Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 125: To kill what he loves

Killian adjusted the cuffs of his dark suit as he stepped out of the containment wing. The security lights along the marble corridor glowed a sterile white, reflecting off polished floors that looked too calm for the night the palace had just endured. The air still carried the faint echo of Dax’s pheromones, suffocating spice, like static that refused to fade. Everyone felt it. Every guard, every servant, every breath of recycled air seemed afraid to move wrong.

Hanna Osler was inside the holding room. Restricted while no one was permitted to talk to her until Dax would be calm enough to do it. Quiet for once in her life.

He’d given the order himself: constant surveillance, biometric monitoring on loop, no external communications, and no physical access without clearance. The next time she saw daylight, it would be for interrogation.

Killian missed for a few days while helping Dax and the palace decided to become useless. Saying he was enraged would be an understatement.

He had just started down the corridor when he heard someone calling softly behind him.

"Killian."

Rowan’s voice. Calm, low, but the kind of calm that came from exhaustion.

Killian turned, brows lifting slightly when he saw the man alone in the hallway. Just him, holding a tablet under one arm and a folder in the other. His jacket was unbuttoned, his tie loosened, and his red hair pushed back like he hadn’t slept.

"She’s secured?" Rowan asked first, not bothering with greetings.

Killian gave a short nod. "Yes. And sedated. She’ll stay that way until morning."

"Good," Rowan murmured. "Then you’ll want this." He held out the folder and tapped the tablet awake. "It’s everything I could dig up since the moment you left the palace. Movements, requisitions, communications, and personnel changes. Hanna’s been busy."

Killian motioned toward the security office at the corner of the corridor. "Inside."

The room was dimly lit, screens lining one wall, displaying muted surveillance feeds from the palace wings. He gestured for Rowan to sit while he scanned the first few files.

Rowan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "After Dax left for Rohan, Hanna started to restructure the entire domestic chain. It was almost nothing at first, I suppose because you were here, but it degenerated the moment Dax left again. She called it ’protocol enforcement.’ Every internal memo she sent referenced the King’s authority, though none were logged under your clearance or his signature."

Killian’s gaze didn’t lift from the screen. "She forged internal orders."

"Essentially, yes. She replaced half the housekeeping staff in the consort’s wing, reassigned the rest, and filtered all requests through her office. Even medical updates from Nadia were rerouted. Every report painted Christopher as..." Rowan hesitated, the word tasting wrong, "unstable. Noncompliant. Dangerous to himself."

Killian’s fingers stilled on the edge of the desk. "And no one questioned her?"

"She used your name," Rowan said quietly. "Yours and the King’s. Said you approved all directives before departure. When the rest of us cross-checked, the documentation looked clean. Timestamped, signed, and encrypted through the palace network."

Killian exhaled through his nose, slow and measured. "Digital forgery with access-level four credentials. That narrows it down to twelve people."

"Now ten," Rowan said. "Two of her assistants disappeared before the arrest order was issued. One left the Capital; the other’s biometric tag was deactivated inside the palace."

Killian’s expression didn’t change, but his voice dropped half a tone. "And the collar? How could she reroute the delivery? It should be impossible."

Rowan looked away on the window for a minute. "Cornelia Altera."

Killian’s head lifted at the name, sharp and immediate, as if Rowan had just fired a weapon in the confined space.

"Repeat that," he said quietly.

Rowan met his eyes. "Cornelia Altera. She’s the one who processed the transfer. Treasury logistics, ceremonial inventory division. Hanna didn’t sign for the collar personally... Cornelia did. Under ’special presentation protocol.’ The routing code matches Hanna’s authorization line, but the access point belongs to Altera’s department."

Killian leaned back slowly, the leather of his chair creaking. "That department’s supposed to handle diplomatic gifts and insignia, not private orders." 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"I know," Rowan said. "And Cornelia’s signature has been clean for years. But the audit trail doesn’t lie... she approved it this morning at 8:45. Hanna couldn’t have done it without her."

The silence stretched, broken only by the faint hum of the surveillance feeds. Killian’s hand went to his tie, loosening it slightly. "For fuck’s sake. His Majesty would lose his mind."

"Are you going to inform him today?" Rowan asked, knowing full well the relationship between the current king and the consort of his deceased father. The only reason that kept her alive was her two underage sons. Princes were kept alive only for procreation purposes if Dax didn’t find a mate.

Killian didn’t answer at first. He was thinking of the implications, of how the name Cornelia Altera could turn one already dangerous night into something catastrophic.

"I need to inform His Majesty about it," he said quietly.

Rowan blinked, startled by the sudden shift in tone. "You’re going to him now?"

Killian straightened his cuffs, the motion smooth with the calm that usually came right before Dax unleashed hell. "Do you think I’d sleep with this on my conscience? If Cornelia routed palace inventory so that the collar reached the suite, she touched Christopher too. She’s already trying to make Dax kill what he loves."

Rowan’s face went pale for a second. "If she’s that bold..."

"She thinks the King is distracted," Killian cut in. "She miscalculated." He picked up the tablet and the folder with one steady hand. "Stay with Christopher. Keep Nadia in the loop and tell her to stabilize him without any external interference. If he wakes, keep him calm and distracted. I’ll be back before dawn."

Rowan hesitated, then nodded. "Understood. Be careful."

Killian moved down the corridor like a man who owned the night, each step measured. The elevator hummed, the doors whispered shut, and the palace seemed to hold its breath. At Dax’s door he paused, smoothed his suit, and walked in without knocking.