Caught by the Mad Alpha King Chapter 108: Hopes

Another ping.

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.

He set the phone down then, as after that the group beca a dumpster for Lucas’s s and Mia’s panic. Chris ignored them for now and moved to the bedroom to sleep as much as he could. Sothing told him that Serathine and Cressida would be his nightmare when training and he better prepare for it.

—

Chris sat on the edge of the bed, one arm wrapped loosely around his ribs, the other flicking at the corner of a lab sheet he’d already crumpled twice. The pages rustled faintly, the noise almost too sharp in the still air. Numbers blurred together, hormone ratios, temperature fluctuations, chemical residues, each one whispering what he refused to say out loud.

Denial, he decided, was a valid dical strategy.

Nadia clearly disagreed.

"You’re supposed to rest," she said, appearing beside the bed with that calm efficiency that ca from too many sleepless weeks. Her tone carried the weight of soone who had administered sedatives often enough to consider it a public service. "And don’t glare at your lab work like it personally offended you."

"It is a personal enemy," Chris muttered, voice rough. "It’s lying."

Nadia gave him that flat nurse look, the kind that could silence a room full of generals. "Numbers don’t lie, Mr. Malek. They just tell inconvenient truths."

He huffed out a sound that was half-laugh, half-groan. "You sound like Rowan."

"Rowan has better posture," she said dryly, adjusting the small monitor at his bedside. The machine humd to life, casting a pale blue glow across her wrist.

"Let guess," he said after a pause, "he’s still guarding the door?"

"Yes," Nadia replied, eyes on the data. "Like an overly polite wall."

Chris sighed, shoulders sinking. "Figures."

She didn’t answer, only checked his vitals, the quiet clicks of her tablet filling the pause. "You’re stable," she said at last. "So don’t pick fights you can’t win."

"I’m not planning to fight anyone," he said, too quickly. "The person I want to fight is gone anyway."

That earned him another glance, careful and edged with understanding but not pity. "He had to leave."

"I noticed," Chris murmured. His laugh ca out thin, almost brittle. "Walks in after a week, kisses like we’re in a bad romance novel, and vanishes again. Perfect royal timing."

Nadia didn’t comnt, which sohow made it worse.

The silence stretched. The scent he’d been trying to ignore, spice with sothing darker underneath, still lingered in the room. It clung to the sheets and to his skin, warm and heavy, the mory of Dax disguised as comfort. Every breath pulled it deeper, and with it ca the sa ache he’d been pretending not to feel.

Killian walking in on them hadn’t helped. He still couldn’t think about that mont without wanting to dig a hole and live in it forever.

God, he’d liked the kiss and even wanted more. That was the worst part.

He dragged his hand down his face and muttered, "I should’ve died of embarrassnt right there."

Nadia’s mouth twitched. "Please don’t. I’d have to file the paperwork."

That earned a small, reluctant smile from the sprawled cat of an oga. "I’ll try not to inconvenience you."

"Good," she said, tucking her tablet under one arm. "Sleep. And no more reading lab results like a tragic poet."

When she left, the door shut softly behind her, and quiet reclaid the room. The only sound ca from the faint vibration of his phone, buried sowhere under the pillow. The group chat had devolved into Lucas’s s and Mia’s panic, but Chris barely glanced at it before swiping it away.

He scrolled instead to the secure channel... the one that never lit up anymore. The one only Dax could answer.

The screen glowed faintly in the dark, an empty field waiting for words.

22:04—You really have a habit of leaving chaos behind, don’t you? A kiss, a towel, and a royal order about robes. Impressive multitasking.

He stared at it for a mont, then kept typing, slower this ti.

22:10—Nadia says I’m getting better. The labs say otherwise. I say they’re all wrong.

The cursor blinked. His chest felt lighter and heavier all at once.

22:14—Rowan’s guarding the door again. I told him to take a break. He didn’t even blink. Pretty sure he’s part furniture now.

He let out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh.

22:18—You’d probably tell to rest too. You always do. Funny how it’s easier to listen when you’re not here to see ignore it.

The cursor pulsed once more.

He read the last line again before pressing send. It wasn’t much, but it was sothing. Words cast into the void, hoping the silence on the other end was still listening.