Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 183: Drinking (Win-Win)

It was, by all measures, a terrible day to have eyes.

Rowan sat stiffly outside the private dining room, a full cup of untouched coffee going cold in his hands, pretending he wasn’t still seeing afterimages of the balcony footage in his retinas. The security team had been silent ever since the incident, which was unusual; silence wasn’t normal. Silence meant trauma. And what they’d witnessed, however briefly, had been... decisive.

He had personally deleted the feed.

"I’m not paid enough for this," he muttered, even though he technically was. Triple hazard pay didn’t cover psychic damage.

The door behind him remained closed, blissfully shielding him from whatever chaos was unfolding inside. But it couldn’t block memory.

The sounds.

The angle.

The part where Chris said "Dax" like it was both a prayer and a war crime.

Rowan took a slow sip of his coffee. It was bitter, cold, and somehow still preferable to remembering the precise moment the balcony railing entered the frame.

He had deleted the footage less than three minutes after it happened. Not archived. Not flagged. Not encrypted for internal review. Deleted. From every server, every drive, every backup, and every drone node in the palace security network.

He’d stared directly into the lens of treason, then chose survival.

Across the hallway, Lieutenant Marlow hadn’t spoken since. She was staring into the middle distance like she’d just witnessed a divine possession and wasn’t entirely convinced she’d survived it.

"I think I need a religious exemption," Rowan muttered.

Marlow didn’t blink. "I think we all do." 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

A beat passed.

"Should we tell Killian?" she asked, voice brittle.

Rowan shook his head slowly. "Why didn’t I mute the video before opening..." He trailed off as Andrew, Dax’s chief of security, exited the dining hall with an expression that was far too entertained for a man who had lived through two coups.

"First time?" Andrew asked, the smirk on his face just shy of treason.

"What do you mean?" Rowan asked, horrified in a way only memory-induced trauma could produce.

Andrew shrugged, leaning against the wall like he wasn’t dropping psychological nukes.

"Well, this isn’t the first time the King... got enthusiastic during a rut."

Rowan choked. "What."

"He’s had partners before," Andrew continued, almost fondly. "More than a few. Alphas, omegas... whoever could keep up. Or thought they could." He raised a brow. "Most regretted it, but the current consort is by all means as dominant as the king."

Lieutenant Marlow made a noise like she was actively dissociating.

Andrew went on, casual as hell. "There was one alpha who tried to ’match his energy.’ Broke his femur. Walked out crying."

Rowan put the coffee down. Slowly, like he might need both hands to cover his ears.

"But Chris..." Andrew continued, gaze turning a touch more serious now. "Chris is different."

Rowan didn’t speak.

Andrew tilted his head. "Dax never kept any of the others. Never marked them. Never let them near a public gala. Never introduced them to Sahir, let alone brought them into the East Wing."

"He..." Rowan’s voice cracked. "He bit him. On camera."

"Yeah," Andrew said, a little quieter this time. "And then he deleted half the footage himself before you even reached the terminal. The system logged an override. From his console."

Rowan blinked. "Wait, that wasn’t...?"

"Nope," Andrew said. "The King beat you to it. You just wiped the drone nodes and backups. He hit the mainframe."

"Holy..."

"I know."

There was a long pause. Somewhere down the corridor, a servant dropped a tray. Neither of them flinched.

"I’m not trained for this," Rowan said, voice faint.

Andrew laughed. "None of us are. That’s why we drink after shifts."

Across the hall, Lieutenant Marlow finally stirred. "Does Killian know?"

"Oh, Killian always knows," Andrew said.

And as if summoned, the man himself stepped out of the dining room like a shadow in silk, immaculate, unreadable, and clearly prepared to commit treason if necessary.

His gaze swept over Rowan’s dead stare, Marlow’s pale knuckles, and Andrew’s lazy smirk.

"You’ve seen the footage," Killian said flatly.

Killian’s tone was unruffled. Like someone whose patience had been removed years ago for reasons of national security.

Rowan stared up at him, dead-eyed. "Yes."

"Parts of it," Marlow muttered, still haunted.

Killian’s expression didn’t shift. "How much?"

Rowan raised a hand, palm open. "Enough to know I’ll never have an untroubled sleep again."

Andrew made a noise that might’ve been a cough. Might’ve been laughter. Hard to tell.

Killian held out one gloved hand. "The footage. Or what’s left."

Rowan reached into his coat, pulled out a small encrypted drive, and placed it in Killian’s palm like it might bite. "There’s nothing on it. I triple-confirmed. Clean. Sanitized. I even prayed over the ports."

Killian turned the drive between his fingers. "Good."

Then, calmly, he turned and snapped it in half.

Marlow jumped.

Andrew raised a brow. "Overkill?"

"No," Killian said. "Appropriate kill."

He tucked the remains into his pocket like nothing had happened.

Rowan just stared. "Do we... need to talk about the fact that the King committed a digital war crime?"

Killian tilted his head. "Would you like to file a complaint?"

There was a long, heavy pause.

"No," Rowan said.

"God, no," Marlow added quickly.

"Wise," Killian murmured, already turning away. He paused at the doorway, one hand resting lightly on the frame. "There will be no further discussion of last night. Not in reports. Not in jokes. Not even in your dreams."

"Are you going to scrub our memories next?" Rowan asked, too tired to filter himself.

Killian glanced back. "No. But if I hear so much as a whispered pun, I will have you reassigned to consort event security at all times."

Rowan paled. "With Cressida?"

Killian smiled. "With Cressida."

The hallway fell into a stunned silence as he disappeared down the corridor.

Marlow broke it first, her voice hoarse. "I didn’t even make a pun."

Rowan was still staring at the air where Killian had stood. "He knew we were thinking it."

Andrew clapped them both on the shoulder. "Welcome to the inner court, rookies. We bleed so the Empire doesn’t have to."

Rowan groaned. "I’m going to need to start drinking."

"You already did," Marlow said grimly.

"I meant professionally."