The new group chat blinked alive, the title Glass Crackers sitting bold at the top of both screens.
Lucas: Welco, gentlen and ladies. Please keep hands and knives inside the cage at all tis.
Mia: I hate you.
Lucas: Flattered.
A new notification chid.
Serathine: ...Lucas, why have you dropped into another one of your war councils disguised as gas?
Lucas: Because you adore .
Serathine: Incorrect.
Lucas: Because you adore being right. And here, you will be.
Serathine: ...Continue.
Another ping.
Cressida: At least rena sothing flattering if I must participate. Glass Cracker makes sound like a cheap ornant.
Lucas: You’re the expensive kind of ornant. The one people kill over.
Cressida: Acceptable. Carry on.
Chris’s icon stayed still at the bottom, no typing bubble, no reply. Mia stared at her phone like it might explode in her hand.
Mia: Lucas, this is reckless.
Lucas: Reckless is another word for productive.
Finally, Chris’s na appeared.
Chris: If this is so elaborate joke, end it now.
Lucas: C’mon, Chris, there are two dominant ogas on this continent. Us. Let’s have fun. Cressida and Serathine are the best team to teach you what you need to know to survive in the nobles’ world.
The typing bubble blinked, vanished, then returned under Chris’s na.
Chris: Fun? You think that’s what this is? I’m not here for your amusent.
Serathine: Lucas is reckless in phrasing, not in purpose. He’s right about one thing—few people can understand the pressure you’re under. But I can teach you how to wear chains until they look like jewelry. I did it once with Lucas.
Chris: And look where that got him.
Lucas: Married to the only man I’ve ever loved, spoiled beyond reason, and safer than I thought possible. Hardly a tragedy.
Mia muffled a laugh in her sleeve. "Golden retriever husband," she mouthed, and Lucas didn’t bother denying it.
Chris: That doesn’t change the lock.
Cressida: You’re looking at the wrong thing, boy. Locks will always exist. What Serathine and I can give you is freedom inside the cage. Air to breathe, ground to stand on. How much further you push... that’s your choice.
Serathine: But don’t mistake us. If you run, you run alone. Dax will kill anyone directly tied to helping you escape.
Chris’s reply ca slower this ti, the dots vanishing and returning.
Chris: I know bonds weaken with distance. Scent too. If I get far enough...
Cressida: No. Not for dominants. Distance doesn’t blur for them; it sharpens them, especially alphas. He’ll follow you anywhere, because now that he knows your scent, it’s carved into him. You could cross continents and he’d still taste you in the air.
Chris: You are all full of good news...
Serathine: Consider it preparation, not comfort. The protocol for etiquette instructions for Sahan consorts is over three hundred pages long. I can do it with thirty.
Lucas: Thirty? She’ll do it in twenty if you bribe her with coffee.
Serathine: Twenty would leave you sounding like a half-baked noble. Thirty keeps you sharp.
Chris: And what makes you think I care about sounding noble?
Cressida: Because if you don’t, every snake in Saha will sll the blood in the water. Dax can cage you, but the nobles will decide how sharp the bars are. Our job is to keep you from bleeding every ti you move.
Serathine: And you need to understand sothing else. Bonds with dominant ogas are not just about reproduction. For alphas, especially dominants, those bonds are often the only thing standing between them and their own destruction. Without a pair, most of them eventually go mad under the weight of their powers.
Cressida: Dax already walks close to that edge. His are violent enough when he’s in control. Without you... that control will fray.
The typing bubble flickered and vanished, then returned under Chris’s na.
Chris: That doesn’t sound real.
Lucas: It is. And it’s not technically a cage, Chris. Call it what you want: limits, restrictions, or chains. But you already lived with those before, when you hid from Mia and Andrew because you thought you had no choices left. This isn’t new. The difference is, now you’ve got an alpha who can burn the world down if you pull too hard.
Chris: ...So I’m supposed to ta him. Like you did.
Lucas raised a brow, lips curving. "Ta? Careful. That makes it sound like Trevor rolls over for treats. We’re equals. But..." his grin turned sharp, teasing, "a comfortable dominant alpha does turn into a golden retriever for his mate. Loyal. Possessive. Ridiculously obedient, if you’re willing to hold the leash, they hand it to you."
Chris: Are you sure we are talking about Dax here?
Lucas: Oh, I’m sure. Don’t mistake . He’s teeth and claws now, all threat, all control. Trevor was the sa once. But dominance isn’t a wall, Chris; it’s a weapon. The mont they hand it to you, it stops being theirs.
Serathine: Lucas isn’t wrong. I’ve seen it before, alphas who thought they were unbreakable until their bond turned them inside out. It’s not taming. It’s leverage.
Cressida: And comfort. Don’t underestimate that part. A dominant alpha in love can turn into sothing almost... dostic. Dangerous, yes, but dostic all the sa.
Mia: You’re all insane if you think my brother wants dostic.
Chris: She’s right. I don’t.
Lucas: Then don’t call it that. Call it control. Call it survival. Call it making the leash work both ways. But don’t fool yourself into thinking you can walk out without consequence. You pull, he follows. Always.
Chris: ...
The typing bubble lingered under his na, vanishing and returning, before finally resolving:
Chris: If I do this, it’s because I choose it. Not because he chained into it.
Lucas: Then make sure he knows that every damn day.
Cressida: When do you have your next event?
Chris: I didn’t have any yet. I barely got here three weeks ago.
Cressida: Then perfect. A debut without baggage. The first impression is yours to weaponize.
Serathine: And better yet, it will be ours to shape. Three weeks is just enough ti to make you dangerous, if you let us.
Chris: Dangerous? You an tolerable.
Lucas: Please. With those black eyes and that resting murder face? You’re already terrifying. Serathine and Cressida will just make it socially acceptable.
Cressida: Acceptable? No, no, no. We polish, we don’t dilute. The point is not to soften you, it’s to make every word sound like strategy, every silence feel like a knife.
Serathine: Exactly. You don’t smile unless it cuts, and you don’t bow unless it bends soone else lower. I’ll have you ready in a month.
Chris: Ready for what?
Cressida: For nobles who will crawl over themselves to see if the King’s oga is weak, or clever, or bored. They’ll test you the mont Dax lets you breathe in public. We’ll make sure you’re the one testing them.
Lucas: And you’ll love it. Think of it as turning their little dinner parties into battlegrounds. Serathine does the rules, Cressida sharpens the knives, and you? You just exist and watch them bleed.
Chris: ...You all sound far too cheerful about this.
Serathine: That’s because it’s entertaining. Nobles think they’re lions. It’s a joy to watch them realize they’re sheep.
Cressida: Besides, Dax will loathe it. Which is reason enough to attend.
Mia: [screaming into the void] He’s going to strangle when he finds out about this group chat.
Lucas: Relax. If Dax strangles anyone, it’ll be . You’re just collateral damage.
Chris: Comforting.
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