Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 301: Can’t die.

Chris had a hell of a night and definitely looked like it in the glass of the bedroom windows.

Dax hadn’t slept at all. The only difference between him and Chris was that he didn’t look tired at all.

Dax had spent the night moving like a storm in human form, unraveling systems, tearing through layers of deception, demanding answers, and extracting the truth from those who thought they could hide behind protocol. By dawn, he had already cracked how the attackers entered the park and how they had slipped past patrol cycles and hidden their interference. He had promised to explain it to Chris the moment every piece aligned, and Dax did not make promises lightly.

Adonis Malek was now officially wanted in Saha, and Caelan, the Emperor of Palatine, had been contacted and made very aware that if the Empire didn’t hand over their Viscount, Dax was prepared to go to war to take him himself.

Warnings were sent. Official and unofficial. Public and whispered. Dax was furious and didn’t bother hiding it, and the world had the good sense to treat that seriously.

Rohan was already negotiating with Saha, trying to ensure nothing suggested they were complicit. Trying to hide that their king was talking with Adonis just days ago, for the moment Dax left them for later as he had other priorities. Their only real mercy was that Heather had been far more sensible than most people ever gave her credit for.

Now... now Chris stood in the quiet morning, latte in his left hand and phone in the other, gathering the courage to make a call he couldn’t avoid.

He felt guilty for dragging Ethan into this life.

Trevor had already sent a clinical report, thorough and merciless in its honesty. Ethan was stable. His shoulder was a mess but fixable. The chemicals were uncertain. There was a real chance he might transition to omega. There would be monitoring. There would be risk, and for sure there would be fear too.

And then there were the names.

Adonis Malek.

Benedict Morton.

Chris had only ever heard of Benedict in passing, some powerful cardinal, a whisper of a man who wrapped himself in theology and influence. He ran to Rohan the moment Dax tore the church out of Saha by the throat and replaced it with something that did not prey on the desperate. Chris never bothered to learn more because Benedict had not been his problem.

Apparently, that luxury had ended.

He closed his eyes briefly, pressing the phone to his forehead for a second like he needed the cold metal to calm him. Outside the window, Saha stretched beneath a pale winter sky, November light filtering softly through the glass. Somewhere in the palace, the world was already moving at war speed. Dax’s people were working. Intelligence teams were dismantling networks. Politicians were making choices that would shape borders.

And here he was, staring at a number and feeling like a coward.

He exhaled.

Then he hit call.

The line rang once.

Chris’s fingers tightened faintly around the latte cup the moment he realized that Ethan had responded immediately.

"Ethan?" he said softly, his voice steady even if nothing else felt that way.

There was a beat of static, then a familiar voice came through, dry as desert sand and twice as stubborn.

"Well, well... Look who’s calling. The Consort of Saha himself. With such important friends, I’m not surprised they stuffed me into a VVIP room."

Chris let out a quiet breath, almost laughing.

"Ethan," he murmured, warmth threading through the syllables despite everything, "only you would wake up after a building tried to murder you and start with sarcasm."

"I’m adapting to the culture," Ethan replied, and Chris could hear the rasp in his voice now. Pain, exhaustion, but also that very specific brand of weary humor Ethan used when life was chewing him alive and he refused to let it. "Plus, I learned it from you."

"How are you?" Chris asked gently, even though he wanted to ask a thousand more specific things: ’Are you in pain? Can you move your arm? Are you scared? Are you angry? Do you hate me for this?’ but settled for the one that mattered.

Ethan huffed faintly. "I’ve had better days. Got stabbed by architecture. Marinated in illegal chemistry. Apparently saved lives. Might spontaneously change biological categories. And the Grand Duke of Fitzgeralt came to check on me personally, and it looks like he wants to strangle an entire government with his bare hands. So... you know. Eight out of ten. Would not recommend the experience, but the customer service is impressive."

Chris closed his eyes for a second. His chest tightened.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, the guilt sliding too close to the surface.

"No," Ethan said immediately, sharp despite how tired he sounded. "We’re not doing that. You didn’t do this to me. I walked in. I made choices. And I’d do it again because there were people in there who wouldn’t be alive otherwise. So if you’re about to apologize for existing near political insanity, save it."

A breath left Chris halfway between a laugh and a sigh.

"Still," he said softly, "I am sorry you got dragged into this world because of me. And because of who I married."

There was another silence. Softer this time.

"Chris, this had nothing to do with you or your monster of a husband," Ethan said, more firm now, "I’m alive. Leon and Maverick are alive. The others... they have a chance. If I had stayed out of it, I’d be drinking coffee right now while funerals were being planned. So don’t you dare regret pulling me into anything when it wasn’t even your fault. I’d rather stand next to people who fight monsters than pretend monsters don’t exist."

Something in Chris melted, just a fraction.

Then his voice softened even more.

"You’re coming to Saha," he said gently. "When the doctors clear transport. Our physicians are... uniquely skilled with this sort of chemical interference."

"I heard," Ethan replied, humor dry again. "Trevor said your doctors are monsters in lab coats. Comforting. In a morally concerning way."

"You’ll be safe," Chris said quietly. "With us. With Dax. I promise."

There was a rustle on the other end of the line. The sound of a man shifting carefully, trying not to aggravate a wound.

"I believe you," Ethan said after a moment. "Which is the weird part."

Chris’s lips curved faintly. "You’ll get used to it. Saha tends to make belief... compulsory."

There was a quiet huff of breath on the other end. Then Ethan’s voice softened in a way he rarely allowed.

"...It was frightening, Chris."

"For a few minutes I thought I was going to die in there. Buried under a collapsing wall, full of chemicals no one could name yet. I’ve done dangerous things before. I’ve worked on sites where the safety protocols were jokes. But this?" He breathed out, slow and careful. "This was someone deciding my life was a variable they were willing to erase."

Chris closed his eyes. He didn’t interrupt. Just listened, heart pressed too tightly against his ribs.

"And now," Ethan continued, quieter, "I wake up, and doctors are telling me my body may not even belong to the same category anymore. It’s..."

"Terrifying," Chris finished gently.

"Yeah," Ethan admitted. "Terrifying."

Then Ethan blew out a breath, purposely lighter.

"But fortunately for me," he went on, sarcasm creeping slowly back like muscle memory, "I happen to know two people with... firsthand experience in omega-related life crises. Leon has already promised to lecture me with medical pamphlets. And you," he added, "owe me a detailed survival guide. Preferably with diagrams. And snacks."

Chris laughed quietly, some of the tightness in his chest easing.

"I’m still learning," he admitted. "If you want competence and emotional intelligence about being an omega, Leon is the safer investment. I mostly wing it and look convincing while doing so."

"Perfect," Ethan said dryly. "I’ll split the curriculum. Leon for functionality. You for... dramatic coping."

"That feels unfairly accurate," Chris sighed, smiling against his will. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

"Seriously though," Ethan added after a moment, tone gentler again, "if it happens... if I do change... I’m not going to pretend I’ll handle it gracefully from day one. But I’ll be fine. Because you and Leon are there. Because somehow my life ended up tied to absurdly powerful and infuriatingly competent people. I don’t know how it happened, but I’ll take it."

Emotion swelled sharp and warm behind Chris’s ribs.

"You won’t do this alone," he said softly. "NSaha will take care of you. Dax will take care of you. Trevor already is. And I..."

"Already do more than enough," Ethan interrupted, voice firm again. "Don’t add guilt to the list. Just answer your phone when I panic at three in the morning."

"I will," Chris promised, smiling helplessly. "Every time."

There was another faint rustle. Ethan shifting again, probably grimacing and pretending he wasn’t.

"I should let you rest," Chris murmured.

"Go," Ethan said. "Be royal. Be terrifying. Hug your dragon husband. I’ll be fine."

"You’re not allowed to die," Chris added gently. "That’s a rule now."

"I’ll pencil it into my schedule," Ethan replied, dry and soft all at once. "Talk soon, Chris."

"Soon," Chris whispered, and ended the call.