Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 130: Freezing

The temperature in the corridor seemed to drop with every breath he took. The sterile lights dimmed slightly, flickering as though the palace itself sensed the shift.

Christopher stood still, hands at his sides, eyes locked on Hanna. "What did you just say?"

Hanna’s chin lifted, her tone measured, too calm for a woman facing an omega radiating danger. "Everything I did," she said, each word deliberate, "was in accordance with His Majesty’s orders. You think I would have dared to act otherwise?"

Rowan stiffened beside him, realizing the trap even before Christopher did. "That’s not..."

But the words died as frost began to creep along the glass wall of the containment cell.

At first, it was faint, like condensation, then it spread, tendrils of white veining outward in delicate, crystalline patterns. The chamber filled with the faint crackle of freezing air. The temperature plummeted so quickly Rowan could see his own breath.

Christopher didn’t move. His pheromones, once soft and warm, turned to the tangy scent of snow over metal.

Nadia’s voice came through Rowan’s comm, strained. "His vitals just spiked... he’s losing control. Don’t touch him. He’ll react instinctively."

Hanna’s confidence faltered as the glass groaned under the forming ice. "Christopher, stop this," she said, her voice trembling despite herself. "You don’t understand..."

"No," he interrupted. His voice was quiet but full of an authority that made the others falter. "You don’t."

The lights flickered harder. Frost bloomed across the ceiling now, crawling down the metallic beams like veins under skin. Every surface that touched the air around him turned cold, the kind of cold that bit straight through matter and memory alike.

Rowan took a careful step back. "Chris," he said evenly, "listen to me. You need to breathe. She’s not worth this."

"She lied," Christopher said, his tone flat. "She made me think he wanted me chained. She made me doubt everything."

The collar around his throat pulsed once in response to the surge, syncing with his state. His breath came out as frost.

The glass walls of Hanna’s cell began to crack. Thin lines first, then deeper ones, spreading like a spider’s web. Hanna stood now, fear overtaking pride. "His Majesty told me..."

The last word froze in the air as the temperature plunged below zero.

Christopher raised his hand, and the frost followed, crawling across the floor, racing toward the cell. Hanna stumbled back, her voice breaking. "Please..."

Hanna gasped as her breath fogged in front of her face. The temperature dropped ten degrees, then twenty. Monitors beeped warnings.

Rowan swore. "Christopher, stop!"

But Christopher didn’t. His eyes had gone pale, black irises rimmed with silver-white, reflecting the frozen surface in front of him.

"Do you even understand what you did?" he whispered, each syllable visible as vapor. "You touched what wasn’t yours. You mocked what I am. You made me believe that what bound me to him was humiliation."

"Y-Your Grace, please..."

"Did you enjoy it?" His tone was quiet, deadly. "Watching me believe he’d caged me?"

Her pulse spiked. The frost reached the floor of the cell, creeping toward her feet.

Rowan lunged forward, but the air hit him like a wall: dense, charged, and freezing. It burned to breathe.

"Chris!" he shouted, coughing. "You’ll kill her..."

"She deserves it," Christopher said. "She wanted me broken. She can break first."

The frost crawled higher. Hanna’s eyes went wide, her voice cracking. "I... I only did what I was told...!"

"Liar."

The word carried through the corridor like a shatter of glass and with it, the frost surged. Hanna gasped, choking on the air, her body trembling.

Then...

Warmth that carried the scent of spice he thought he loved. A pair of massive and warm arms reaching for him through the frosted air.

Dax.

He didn’t even have time to react before he was pulled back, pressed against a chest that radiated heat. Dax’s pheromones hit like a countercurrent, waves of spice and rum and life cutting through the cold. The ice on the walls began to melt instantly, steam rising where their powers collided.

"Christopher," Dax murmured, voice low against his ear.

Christopher struggled, trembling. "Let me go."

"Not yet."

"She deserves it!" His voice cracked, the fury gone too deep to separate from grief. "She lied! She made me think you..."

"I know," Dax said quietly. "I know, little moon."

The name pierced everything.

Christopher’s muscles tightened, and his breath caught. The frost receded by inches, mist curling instead of striking.

"Don’t," Dax whispered, tightening his hold. "Don’t stain your hands with her blood. Leave that to me. I’ve already bathed in enough of it to last a lifetime."

His pheromones wrapped around Christopher’s like fire taming wind, absorbing the cold, and stabilizing him. For a moment, the corridor was filled with the twin scents of frost and spice, a delicate, perfect balance that belonged to no one else.

Christopher’s pulse slowed, his breathing ragged. "I hate you," he whispered.

"I know."

"I meant everything I said."

"I know that too."

Christopher turned his head slightly, eyes still wet, still bright. "You’re not forgiven."

Dax exhaled softly, the warmth of it brushing against Christopher’s temple. "I know when I deserve it; let’s get you safe first," he said.

Christopher’s body was still trembling, small shivers running through him, his breath fogging faintly even as the temperature in the corridor began to climb again. The frost that had claimed the walls melted into rivulets that trickled soundlessly to the floor.

He was exhausted. He didn’t realize how much until the alpha’s arms shifted, one hand sliding to the back of his neck, grounding him through the collar’s faint hum. The reaction was immediate, the icy pressure in the air flickered, then dimmed, as if the connection itself remembered what it was made for.

Without a word, Dax bent slightly, one arm sliding beneath Christopher’s knees, the other bracing his back. The move was seamless, bringing the omega close to his chest.

Christopher startled, his fingers gripping Dax’s coat out of instinct. "Put me down," he said, voice hoarse.

"No," Dax murmured, tone soft but final.

The warmth coming from him was almost unbearable now. His pheromones, once sharp and metallic with fury, had softened into something molten and comforting. They wrapped around Christopher like a web.

Rowan, still near the corner of the corridor, watched in silence. He’d seen Dax command armies, cut down generals, and rebuild cities from ruin, but this was somehow different. The same restraint, the same danger, but turned inward and wrapped around one person.

Dax didn’t look at him, but the slight tilt of his head was enough. The command passed wordlessly.

"Understood," Rowan said quietly.