Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 168: Not an action movie

"...I haven’t done anything..."

The sentence fell apart mid-air, collapsing under its own lack of conviction.

And then the door opened.

The guards shifted wordlessly. Rowan stepped aside, not out of deference, but to make space for the arrival of someone who required none.

Dax entered first.

He moved with the kind of unbothered authority that made space bend around him, dressed in midnight blue stitched with gold, the collar of his coat as sharp as his gaze. His white-blonde hair fell past his shoulders in soft waves, catching the low balcony lights like spilled moonlight. The violet of his eyes burned cold.

Behind him came Prime Minister Sahir, his silver mantle unwrinkled despite the late hour, expression unreadable. Killian followed in silence, every line of his posture already prepared for war. Serathine and Cressida walked side by side, their presence less like accompaniment and more like judgment made manifest. Neither of them looked remotely pleased about having their dinner interrupted.

"Minister Draven," Dax said, his voice an elegant, slow drawl, smooth, and meant to leave bruises. "It seems you’ve forgotten that the East Wing is equipped with full-spectrum surveillance. Audio included."

Draven turned, trying to summon whatever pitiful dignity he had left, the kind of false composure men wore when they’d already lost.

"Your Majesty, I..."

"Spare me," Dax cut in, tone still quiet. "We heard everything. From the moment you followed my consort out of the dining hall to the moment you decided to insult him in a space you thought was private."

Draven paled. "It was a misunderstanding."

Sahir stepped forward then, folding his hands behind his back. "A misunderstanding implies confusion," the Prime Minister said calmly, his icy blue eyes fixed on Draven’s face. "What you delivered was a calculated character assassination. Not only against the royal consort, but against the dignity of your own office."

Draven looked between them, searching for an escape that did not exist.

Serathine’s voice was soft but no less lethal. "Do you know how long it took for people to stop looking at omegas like currency? Did you forget that the Prime Minister is omega too?" she asked. "And here you are, dragging your mediocrity across centuries of progress."

Cressida arched a brow, wine-dark lips curved in polite contempt. "If you were going to embarrass yourself, Minister, you could’ve at least done it with better grammar."

Draven opened his mouth again. It was the last mistake he made that night.

"Speak again," Dax said, stepping forward slowly, "and I’ll personally remove your tongue and have it displayed in the East gallery as a warning to any other noble who thinks protocol ends where my mate begins."

The words weren’t loud. But they made the guards stiffen. Made Chris feel the heat of them down to the marrow.

Draven finally went silent.

Killian moved first, nodding once to Rowan, who gave a short signal in return. Two of the alphas stepped forward, flanking the minister without ceremony.

"You are hereby stripped of your current clearance," Sahir announced. "Pending full ethics investigation. Effective immediately."

"Escort him off palace grounds," Dax added. "If he resists... Break his knees."

Chris didn’t move.

Not until Dax turned to face him, and the fury that had been carved into every angle of his posture melted, not completely, but enough. His hand reached out, fingers brushing just under Chris’s chin, grounding him.

"You okay?" Dax asked quietly.

Chris nodded, the corners of his mouth curling upward in something that wasn’t quite a smirk, but close. "I’m fine. Mildly underwhelmed, honestly. I expected more from a man who thought he could insult me with that little spine. And I was promised a dramatic takedown. Where was the tackle over the balcony rail?"

Rowan, from behind, didn’t flinch. "He’s not worth the paperwork."

"You say that now," Chris muttered, tilting his head toward the glass door. "But I had a whole mental image ready. Arms flailing. Screaming for relevance. Maybe a little fountain splash for flair."

One of the alphas choked on a breath, visibly struggling to contain a laugh.

Dax, for his part, just looked at him, like Chris had somehow simultaneously short-circuited his rage and made him fall in love again.

He leaned closer, his voice a thread of heat. "You are," Dax murmured, "very lucky I find sarcasm arousing."

"Really? Because I thought you liked the quiet type," Chris replied, coolly. "You know, docile, demure, emotionally suppressed..."

Dax kissed him.

It wasn’t soft, or dramatic, or meant to silence. It was slow. Intentional. A promise written in the way his mouth moved against Chris’s, claiming nothing he hadn’t already been given. The world didn’t stop, but it tilted, just a little, under the weight of it.

When Dax finally pulled back, his hand lingered at the curve of Chris’s jaw.

"You’re not allowed to leave dinners alone anymore."

Chris raised a brow. "You’re going to follow me to the bathroom?"

"If necessary."

Sahir cleared his throat pointedly. "As charming as this is..."

"It’s not meant to be," Dax said, without looking away from Chris.

Chris rolled his eyes, biting back a smile. "Alright, alright. I’ll come back inside. But if anyone else tries something tonight, I’m pressing the button twice."

"Won’t work," Rowan said mildly from where he stood, arms loosely folded behind his back. "Second press alerts the drones."

Chris froze. "What drones?"

Rowan didn’t elaborate.

Dax did. "The security prototypes. Mid-sized, quiet, non-lethal... technically. They’ve been programmed to neutralize without permanent injury. Usually."

Chris turned to him slowly. "You’re telling me I would have to wear an airstrike button to every gala?"

Dax’s expression didn’t change. "You’re the royal consort. Did you think it was decorative?"

"I thought it was a tracker."

"It’s both," Sahir said helpfully.

Chris blinked. "That doesn’t make it better."

"Of course it does," Cressida said, already turning back toward the dining hall. "You’ll always be found. And vaporized threats make such a tidy statement."

Killian followed her, silent as a drawn blade. Serathine gave Chris a look that hovered between amused and exasperated, then disappeared after them. Sahir paused only to offer a crisp nod before vanishing down the corridor, his silver mantle catching the light like frost.

The guards resumed their positions without comment. Rowan tilted his head slightly, waiting.

"Rowan," Dax said without looking at him, "delete the footage."

"Already gone."

"And the drones?"

"Back on standby."

Dax nodded once. Then, to Chris, quieter now, "Come back to dinner with me."