Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 136: Mad (1)

The palace terrace stretched beneath a pale sky, washed in the golden clarity of late summer. From this height, the gardens rippled down the hillside like green silk, and beyond them, the city shimmered in soft heat haze.

Dax sat across from him, posture perfect even in leisure, the sunlight striking threads of silver through his pale hair. His black shirt was open at the collar, the faint gold embroidery at the cuffs catching when he moved.

Chris, by contrast, looked achingly human. He’d dressed comfortably in a loose ivory shirt, sleeves rolled high, and dark trousers that hung just right. His hair, still damp from the shower, curled slightly at his temples.

The table between them was gleaming with quiet wealth: porcelain, gold-rimmed cups, and a bowl of fresh fruit that had been forgotten. It could have been peace. It wasn’t.

Dax leaned back slightly, violet eyes fixed on Chris with the kind of patience that didn’t last forever.

"You’re quiet," he said.

"I’m thinking," Chris replied, not looking up from the plate he’d been pushing food around on for the last ten minutes. "Trying to decide if I want to throttle you over the rail of the balcony or talk."

Dax’s mouth curved faintly, the expression too calm to be entirely safe. "I’d recommend talking. The fall’s steep and kind of hard to throttle me over."

Chris stabbed a piece of melon with more force than necessary. "Tempting, though."

"I’m sure." Dax reached for his coffee, the movement smooth and elegant, the cup looking almost fragile between his fingers. "You usually threaten me when you’re about to make a point."

"Well..." Chris leaned back, tone deceptively casual. "Explain then. I’m sure your royal intuition already knows what I’m going to ask."

"Chris," Dax said, patient but firm, "I don’t read minds. Ask your questions."

"Fine." Chris exhaled. "Why the collar? I didn’t try to run away. You could’ve just asked."

Dax didn’t react right away. He set the cup down carefully, the faint clink of porcelain the only sound between them.

"True to both," he said. "You didn’t run. But you also weren’t planning to stay. You were more afraid that I might turn that fear toward your family than you were willing to trust what was happening between us."

Chris’s lips parted, ready to argue, but Dax lifted a hand slightly, stopping him without force.

"And about the collar," he continued. "I asked if you knew what it was before I put it on you. You said Hanna told you."

Chris frowned. "Because she did... technically."

Dax nodded once. "She didn’t. She used my absence to make you feel caged and unwanted and I failed the most important thing for us. To tell you myself the things important for us."

"And for that I’m sorry." Dax said after a pause.

Chris’s head snapped up at that, as if he hadn’t expected the apology to come at all, let alone so easily. Dax didn’t look away. His expression wasn’t the carefully arranged calm of a ruler managing a conversation; it was stripped down, raw enough that the space between them felt suddenly too thin.

"You’re... sorry?" Chris repeated, half in disbelief.

"Yes." Dax’s tone low. "For letting someone else speak in my place. For letting her twist something that was meant to protect into something that hurt you. And for not stopping it sooner."

Chris blinked once, twice. He looked away, his jaw tightening as though he couldn’t quite decide what to do with that kind of honesty. "You could’ve told me the truth then. You could’ve said what it was."

"I should have," Dax said simply. "But I was more afraid of what was going to happen if I didn’t. I still am."

"You? The mighty Dax afraid?"

Dax let out a long breath, the kind that sounded too controlled to be anything but deliberate. "There were four assassination attempts on you from the moment you set foot on my route to Saha."

Chris froze. The fork in his hand stopped mid-air, his expression snapping from disbelief to something far sharper. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Language, Chris." Dax’s tone softened, though it didn’t hide the gravity behind it. "I still don’t like your swearing."

"Then stop saying insane things!" Chris hissed, setting the fork down hard enough that it clinked against the plate.

Dax didn’t flinch. He simply met his gaze with unnerving calm. "You are a target," he said quietly. "For the ones who see you as a threat to their imaginary right to the throne. You being my mate changes the entire line of succession. Without you, I would not have a recognized heir, a stabilizing counterpart, or balance."

Chris frowned, the anger in his expression folding into confusion. "The heir part was clear enough. What does the second part even mean?"

"It means," Dax continued, his voice lowering until it was nearly a murmur, "that without a mate, I’d lose control of my own pheromones. Within five years, I’d either burn out my system or drive myself into madness. Maybe both."

Chris stared at him, the words hitting harder than any threat could. "You’re telling me you’d die without a mate?"

Dax’s lips curved slightly too bitterly to make a smile. "It’s not as dramatic as it sounds."

"The hell it isn’t," Chris shot back. "You’re talking about dying, Dax!"

"I’m talking about biology," Dax corrected softly, violet eyes never wavering from his. "Why do you think dominant omegas are secured the moment they’re declared adults? Dominant alphas need them to survive. You knew that, at least instinctively. That’s why you hid your existence until I found you."

Chris stared at him, disbelief warring with the heat rising under his skin. "That’s... something you didn’t tell me. I know the basics, but it’s different when it’s about you. I mean... my information is hearsay at best." He leaned back, breath uneven. "You kept me safe, sure, but you didn’t think maybe I deserved to know the danger I was in?"

"I was trying to protect you..."

"You were trying to control me." Chris’s tone cut clean through the air. "You suffocated me under layers of security and called it protection. There are, what?, ten alphas under Rowan who can scent through anything? I can barely walk across a hallway without being followed."

Dax tilted his head slightly, calm to the point of irritation. "Technically twenty alphas now."

Chris’s mouth fell open. "You are mad."

Dax didn’t deny it. "Practical," he said instead. "Every one of them swore loyalty directly to me, and if someone tries to harm you again, those twenty will be the first to tear the threat apart."

"That’s not comforting!" Chris said, voice rising before he caught himself. "You can’t just... deploy armies because you’re paranoid!"

"You were almost killed four times!" Dax’s tone snapped before he could stop it, sharp enough to make the air around them still. The echo of authority in his voice cut through the summer’s calm air.

Chris froze.