Caught by the Mad Alpha King Chapter 249: Short family history (1) (Win - Win)

Chris tilted his head back to look up at him, eyes narrowing with familiar amusent. "See? Paynt."

Dax smiled faintly and leaned in anyway, brushing his lips in a soft, warm kiss. He straightened with a quiet exhale, resting one hand on the edge of the desk, the towel still hanging loose around his neck.

"So," he said. "What version did you find?"

"The one where you didn’t want the crown," Chris replied. "The one where you waited until the country could survive you taking it."

Dax’s expression changed into sothing thoughtful. "I waited because a crown is a promise," he said. "And broken promises kill faster than weapons."

Chris glanced at the closed laptop. "You ruled for five years without one. That doesn’t sound like soone afraid of responsibility."

"It sounds like soone who understood timing," Dax corrected. "If I’d taken it earlier, they would’ve called it tyranny. Later, they would’ve called it weakness."

"And instead?"

"And instead," Dax said evenly, "they argue about it fifteen years later. Which ans it worked."

Chris smiled, softer now. "The forums are terrified of you."

"They should be," Dax replied without heat. Then, after a pause, "But not for the reasons they think."

Chris studied him, barefoot, damp-haired, and stripped of every symbol except presence. "You know," he said, "they’re right about one thing."

Dax raised a brow.

"You could have ruled by fear alone."

Dax’s gaze held his, steady and unflinching. "Yes."

"And you chose not to."

Dax laughed, low and warm, the kind of sound he knew perfectly well would weaken Chris’s knees. Annoyingly, it still did. "That’s one way to put it," he said. "But I did rule through fear. Just not over civilians. Parliant, on the other hand... they were terrified."

Chris’s brow arched. "They called you mad."

"They did," Dax agreed easily. "For good reason."

"You killed ministries?" Chris asked.

"Yes," Dax replied without hesitation. "When they were stubborn and stupid."

Chris paused, then looked up at him again. "Did you kill anyone since I arrived in Saha?"

Dax tilted his head, genuinely considering it, as if counting docunts rather than lives. "Yes. Cornelia, and a handful of priests. The first beca entangled with our relationship and my authority. The second was scheduled long before I ever t you."

Dax shifted closer, resting his thigh against the edge of the desk, arms folding loosely across his chest. His posture was relaxed, but there was nothing casual about the way his attention stayed fixed on Chris.

"But in Parliant?" he continued. "No. And that, my little moon, is because of you."

Chris frowned slightly. "Because of ?"

"Yes," Dax said simply. "Your pheromone and then the bond. You know my pheromones are... excessive."

"You don’t need to boast about that."

"I’m not boasting," Dax replied. "I’m stating a biological fact. When an alpha like remains unbonded for too long, the pressure builds. Any dominant alpha is a weapon with a ticking chanism inside him. Without a dominant oga to regulate it, that pressure turns inward. Or outward."

Chris’s expression softened. "I know," he said quietly. Dax had told him this before.

Dax’s voice lowered. "Before you, Parliant required constant suppression. After you..." He exhaled slowly. "After you, I don’t have to restrain myself every second of the day."

Chris absorbed that in silence, then said, carefully, "So I didn’t make you weaker."

Dax smiled, sharp and unmistakably sincere. "No. You made stable."

The word lingered between them.

Chris leaned back in his chair, studying him anew, not the King, nor the weapon, but the man who had chosen discipline over destruction and now no longer had to hold himself together alone.

"Well," he said lightly, to cover the weight of it, "that’s a terrifying endorsent."

Dax laughed and lingered again, softer this ti, before fading into sothing fond.

"Now," Chris said, narrowing his eyes with theatrical suspicion, "there are other things I apparently need to find out from other people before you decide to tell ." He tilted his head. "You have two brothers you neglected to ntion. And a living mother. I genuinely assud she was dead."

"Ah," Dax said, unbothered. "I see we’ve reached that Chapter."

Chris crossed his arms. "We have."

"Well," Dax continued easily, "the only direct descendants to the throne besides are Adrien, nineteen, and Angus, fifteen."

Chris blinked. "Cornelia really nad her sons like that?"

Dax shrugged. "From what I know, the old man was about as involved in naming them as he was in raising any of us. Which is to say... minimally." His expression cooled, just slightly. "He was a good king. He was a terrible father."

"That tracks," Chris said dryly.

"I’ve kept them safe," Dax went on. "The official excuse was that if I couldn’t find a mate, they would eventually be expected to produce heirs, and I would simply adopt the next in line." His mouth curved faintly. "In practice, it encouraged the opposition to see them as irrelevant. Useless. Not worth targeting."

Chris studied him. "You made them politically boring."

"I made them invisible," Dax corrected. "There’s a difference."

"And they don’t hate you for killing their mother?" Chris asked carefully.

Dax paused, actually thinking this ti. "I don’t think so," he said at last. "But I never asked. They know what Cornelia did. They know why she died." His gaze shifted briefly, distant. "They also know what the collar of a king’s mate ans and what cos before it."

Chris grimaced. "That’s not comforting."

"Adrien saw most of it," Dax added. "Angus was spared part of it."

Chris exhaled. "Wonderful. Family trauma. Collect the set."

Dax smiled at him, unapologetic. "You married into it."

Chris rolled his eyes, but his voice softened. "You really should warn people before dropping that many revelations in one afternoon."

"I thought I’d space them out," Dax said lightly. "But you started reading forums."

Chris pointed at him. "That’s on you. Also, what about your mother?"

"Ah... that."