Caught by the Mad Alpha King Chapter 187: Talk about future

Sahir didn’t even flinch. Just slid the next set of docunts across the table like he was dealing cards in a very high-stakes ga of existential regret.

Chris blinked at the parchnt. Then back at Sahir.

"Is that... a wedding application?"

"Imperial Union Authorization Request," Sahir corrected, polite as ever. "Pre-signed by His Majesty. Just needs your consent. No pressure."

"No pressure?" Chris repeated, voice rising half an octave. "I’ve been bitten, knotted, dically examined, and threatened with a gilded pigeon on my ass. You’re telling the only thing standing between and full political bondage is a "yes" box?"

Sahir didn’t blink. "Two boxes. Yes or no. We’re very modern."

Chris stared at the form, then at Dax, who was now looking extrely pleased with himself.

"You planned this."

"I plan a grand wedding, but, yes, this will do until then."

Chris looked at him like he was seriously considering throwing the teacup. "You absolute tyrant."

Dax leaned back on the couch, stretching one arm along the backrest like he was the portrait of regal smugness. "You’re glowing. The people deserve a ceremony."

"I deserve a lawyer."

"You have Sahir."

Sahir raised a hand without looking up. "I’m the Pri Minister, please keep out of dostic affairs. You have Killian for that."

Chris narrowed his eyes. "You don’t like Killian."

Sahir tapped the form. "Irrelevant now, would you like to go over the benefits again? I have a schedule."

Chris stood up slowly and stiffly, with the grace of a wounded man who’d lost both pride and functional hips. "I will sign this form," he said, "on one condition."

Dax perked up.

"You tell the whole kingdom," Chris said darkly, "that it was your idea. And if anyone uses the word ’love story,’ I get to punch them. Legally. In the face."

Sahir didn’t even blink. "We’ll draft an andnt."

Dax stood too, walking over with that sa quiet confidence that had ruined Chris’s peace, spine, and life. He lifted the pen and held it out.

Chris took it.

"Just know," Chris muttered, signing with a flourish of doom, "this ans I get to pick the color sche for the real wedding."

Dax kissed the side of his head. "I’d let you rule the world."

Sahir took the signed form with the calm of a man accustod to witnessing historical decisions made in bathrobes.

He tucked it neatly into his folder, straightened his mantle, and said, "Congratulations, Consort Altera. Try not to declare war in the next twelve hours."

Chris glared. "No promises."

Sahir inclined his head. "That’s what worries ." And with that, he turned and exited the suite like a diplomatic ghost, leaving behind only the faint scent of imperial ink and restrained judgnt.

The door clicked shut.

Chris let out a breath that felt like it had been aging in his lungs since sunrise. "Well. That wasn’t emotionally catastrophic at all."

Dax didn’t smile. For once, his expression was quiet, serious, almost.

Chris caught it instantly. "Oh no. What now? Don’t tell Sahir forgot sothing. I will barricade that door with your body."

"No," Dax said, his voice lower now. "But we do need to talk."

Chris froze. Slowly sat back down. "If you say ’about the future,’ I’m going to throw myself off the balcony."

Dax held up both hands. "Not the future. Just... sothing about today."

Chris narrowed his eyes. "You already proposed imperial matrimony; what could possibly top that?"

Dax didn’t answer right away. He crossed the space between them, knelt down in front of the couch, and opened the drawer in the side table. From it, he pulled a small, velvet-lined box.

Chris blinked. "If that’s a ring, I swear to god..."

"It’s not." Dax flipped it open to reveal a single silver foil packet.

Chris stared.

Then blinked again.

"...Is that the morning pill?"

Dax nodded once. "I thought we should talk before anything’s irreversible."

Chris opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "For fuck’s sake, I forgot I can get pregnant..."

"Language, Christopher. I should have taken an alpha contraceptive, but," Dax said calmly. "I couldn’t. Not if I wanted to mark you. Or knot you. And I did. I needed to..." he exhaled, steadying himself. "I needed to do it right before anyone would try to take you from again."

Chris stared at him.

At the velvet box.

Then back at him.

"...Is that the morning pill?" he asked, flatly, like the universe had just slapped him with irony.

Dax nodded. "I thought we should talk before anything’s irreversible."

Chris blinked once. Then again. His mouth opened, but no words ca out. He just sat there, brain skidding sideways.

"I forgot," he said finally, voice quiet. "I actually forgot I could even have children."

Dax laughed, a low, smooth laugh. "After all the talk about heat with Nadia, I thought you knew."

Chris narrowed his black eyes. "I knew. Theoretical knowledge. The kind you shove in a drawer and pretend doesn’t apply to you personally because for the last ten years, everyone, including , treated like a beta."

Dax’s expression didn’t change. "You’re not."

"Yeah," Chris muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. "I’ve noticed. Especially since you’ve apparently tried to realign my spinal column through divine bonding."

Dax said nothing.

Which was worse.

Chris looked down at the box again, then back at him. "So. You knew this might happen?"

"I prepared for it," Dax said, honest and even. "You were off suppressants. And your body’s still adjusting. I didn’t want to push you..."

"You knotted ... more than once."

"I didn’t say I succeeded."

Chris groaned and leaned back against the couch like the ceiling might offer a better escape than reality. "Gods, I forgot what a whole biological lottery I signed up for."

Dax reached for his hand, slow and certain. "You don’t have to take it. I’ll support whatever you decide. But I needed to put the choice in your hands. Not fate’s."

Chris looked at their joined hands.

"...You’ve already started alpha contraceptives," he guessed.

Dax nodded. "This morning. Now that we’re bonded, I can’t knot again until you’re ready. Or not ready. Either way, it’s yours to choose."

Chris was quiet for a mont. Then, with that sa strange resolve that had gotten him through trauma, construction sites, and now Sahan politics, he nodded.

"I’ll take it," he said, lifting the box. "Not because I don’t trust you. But because I barely trust my own hormones right now, and if I wake up pregnant while still on post-bond pain gel, I’m going to set sothing on fire."

Dax kissed the back of his hand. "You’d still look good glowing."

Chris groaned. "Stop talking."

"No."