Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 370: Acting skills

Ethan felt it in his teeth first, the way you felt a pressure change before you heard the thunder. His stomach rolled, but this time it wasn’t the pregnancy. It was the pure, clean disgust of being spoken about like a contaminated object.

Sirius didn’t move.

His pheromones didn’t spike. If anything, they withdrew into something tighter, sharper, contained like a blade sheathed on purpose.

"Say that again," Sirius said quietly.

Caelan’s eyes narrowed, irritated. "Don’t be dramatic. I’m being practical."

"You’re being vile," Sirius corrected, voice still low. "And you’re doing it in my office."

Caelan’s smile returned, thin. "In your office, in my Empire. The court will ask questions. The people will demand a story. You can’t parade a mistake and call it tradition."

Ethan’s hands curled at his sides before he could stop them. He hated that his body wanted to tremble. He hated more that Caelan expected him to.

Sirius stepped half a pace forward. Not threatening. Final.

"You will not call Ethan a mistake," Sirius said. "You will not call my child an experiment. And you will not use the word ’legitimate’ like it belongs to you."

Caelan’s expression hardened. "You’re letting sentiment cloud your duty."

Sirius’s gaze didn’t flicker. "You keep calling cruelty ’duty’ because it sounds cleaner."

Caelan took a breath, visibly choosing restraint. "Fine. Then keep it hidden. Keep him hidden. Let the physicians run their tests quietly. And when the... outcome is viable, we discuss legitimacy and succession properly."

Ethan’s vision went sharp around the edges.

He realized, with sudden clarity, that Caelan wasn’t offering secrecy as protection.

He was offering it as a muzzle.

Ethan opened his mouth before Sirius could speak again, because he’d been quiet for too long and that wasn’t him at all.

"I’m mated to him," Ethan said.

The words hit the room like a thrown glass.

Caelan’s smile didn’t move, but one of his advisors went very still, eyes flicking once toward Sirius as if trying to decide whether this was true, new, or simply inconvenient.

Ethan didn’t give anyone time to breathe.

"And I was promised to be his consort," he continued, voice trembling with pain. "The only one."

Sirius shifted beside him so subtly that only Ethan noticed it. A half step closer. A hand ready at Ethan’s back, like Sirius already understood Ethan was about to weaponize this into a situation.

Ethan lifted one hand to his mouth like he was suffering, eyes drifting away as if he couldn’t bear the cruelty of being perceived.

Sirius reacted immediately, reaching for him.

Ethan let his shoulders shake just enough to sell it. He even swayed slightly, like the room had become too heavy.

’Someone give me an award for this performance,’ he thought, and then he kept going because he was committed now.

"Imagine what Chris would say about this," Ethan added with a shaky sigh, voice trembling on purpose. "He and Dax are already waiting for invitations."

That did it.

Caelan’s expression changed by a fraction. The smile remained. The warmth stayed in place. But the calculation behind it tightened like a fist.

Ethan could practically see the mental board: Saha’s king, Saha’s queen, an heir tied to Palatine, a scandal that could turn into a border incident if handled stupidly.

And Dax didn’t do ’handled stupidly.’ He did ’handled decisively.’

Caelan inhaled slowly, the way men did when they were furious but had learned to package rage as composure.

"You’re threatening me with foreign conflict," Caelan said, voice smooth.

Ethan blinked at him, innocent. "I’m warning you what happens when you insult people who don’t tolerate it."

Sirius’s pheromones rose again, a reminder for Caelan that the room still belonged to him.

"You promised," Caelan said, voice sharpening. "You promised you would deal with this."

Sirius didn’t blink. "I am dealing with it."

"No," Caelan cut in, and for the first time the mask actually cracked. "You are indulging it."

Ethan’s stomach rolled, and he made a small sound like he was going to be sick. It wasn’t entirely acting.

Sirius’s hand tightened at Ethan’s back, soothing him. His voice stayed calm. "Choose your next words carefully."

Caelan’s jaw clenched. He glanced at Ethan again, then back at Sirius like Ethan had become a live wire in his office.

"Fine," Caelan said tightly. "Have your... arrangement. Marry him, if that’s what you’ve implied. Keep him close. Make him presentable. Make it legitimate."

He spat the last word like it hurt.

Then Caelan added, colder, "But if Saha mobilizes a single soldier because you failed to contain your household, that blood will be on you."

Ethan’s eyes flicked to Sirius. It was all the same language, dressed differently.

Sirius didn’t react. "Saha won’t mobilize anything."

Caelan’s smile returned, thin and irritated. "Only because Christopher is apparently the only thing standing between Dax and warmongering."

That was... true enough to be uncomfortable.

Ethan’s lips twitched despite himself. Chris would be offended by the accuracy.

Caelan stepped back, signaling the end. He didn’t like this room anymore. He didn’t like the direction of control in it.

"You will handle this," Caelan repeated to Sirius, like a command he expected to be obeyed. "And you will not embarrass me further."

Then he stormed out.

The door shut and the air loosened like a knot being cut.

For a long second, no one spoke.

Ethan’s ’fragile consort’ expression vanished on impact. His shoulders dropped. He exhaled hard and leaned slightly into Sirius because his stomach chose that moment to revolt again.

Sirius caught him with irritating competence.

Ethan muttered, through his teeth, "Someone. Give me. An award."

Sirius didn’t answer immediately.

Because Sirius had realized it the moment Ethan invoked Chris and Dax with that perfectly timed tremor.

A brilliant, petty, perfectly engineered bluff.

Sirius guided Ethan toward the chair by the window, voice low. "Sit."

Ethan sat, pressing two fingers to his forehead like he was trying to keep his brain from leaving his skull.

Sirius poured water without asking, handed it over, and only then spoke.

"You don’t actually think Chris and Dax are ’waiting for invitations,’" Sirius said quietly.

Ethan took a careful sip. "No."

Sirius’s gaze held his. "You used them anyway."

Ethan looked up, eyes sharp again despite the nausea. "Your father understands one language: consequences. I gave him consequences."

A beat.

Sirius’s mouth twitched faintly, the closest thing he ever offered to approval in private.

"You did," he admitted.

Ethan pointed weakly at the door. "He called me an experiment five minutes ago."

"I heard," Sirius said, and the calm in it was dangerous now. "I will deal with that."

Ethan huffed. "How? With another ’public unity’ plaque?"

Sirius’s gaze didn’t waver. "With silence, pressure and by removing the people who think they can speak like that and survive."

Ethan stared at him for a moment, then muttered, "You’re terrifying."

Sirius’s voice went softer, just enough to feel like it was meant for Ethan alone. "You should have seen you."

Ethan blinked. "Excuse me?"

Sirius leaned in slightly, not crowding, not performing. "You were shaking, nauseous, outnumbered, and you still stood there and turned him into the smaller man."

Ethan’s throat tightened in an irritating way. He covered it with attitude.

"I’m an engineer," he said. "I fix structural failures."

Sirius’s eyes flicked over him like he was memorizing the line anyway. "And you’re mine," he said, matter-of-fact, as if that had already been decided in the same breath as breathing.

Ethan froze. "Sirius..."

"I know you were acting," Sirius cut in, quiet and controlled. "I played along."

Ethan’s mouth parted, then closed. "Why?"

Sirius looked at him for a long moment, expression unreadable.

"Because you needed it to work," Sirius said. "And because I’m already planning ten different ways to keep you safe without making you feel trapped."

Ethan stared, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Ten."

Sirius nodded once. "At least."

Ethan swallowed, eyes flicking toward the closed door like he could still hear Caelan’s voice in the walls.

Then he looked back at Sirius, stubbornness returning in a familiar shape.

"Fine," Ethan said. "Plan. But you don’t get to turn me into a cage."

Sirius’s reply was immediate. "I won’t."

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "That was too fast."

Sirius’s mouth twitched. "I’ve been practicing."

Ethan shook his head once, exhausted and furious and weirdly steady at the same time.

"Okay," he muttered. "Then start with the simplest one."

Sirius tilted his head. "Which is?"

Ethan took another sip of water, then looked at him with the kind of blunt honesty that had gotten him into trouble his whole life.

"Don’t leave me alone with your father ever."