Chapter 107: Chapter 107: A chat with allies
He sat cross-legged on the couch instead, still in Dax’s shirt, the collar loose around his throat, the sleeves rolled high enough to reveal damp skin. His hair was half-dry, stubborn curls falling into his eyes, but he didn’t move to fix it. The phone in his hand glowed softly against the dim marble light, the new group chat sitting bold and unapologetic at the top:
Glass Crackers.
He didn’t know whether to laugh or throw it out the window.
The messages started almost immediately.
Lucas: Welcome, gentlemen and ladies. Please keep hands and knives inside the cage at all times.
Mia: I hate you.
Lucas: Flattered.
Chris’s mouth twitched despite himself. He wasn’t going to smile, he refused to, but the corners of his lips betrayed him anyway.
A new notification blinked.
Serathine: ... Lucas, why have you dropped me into another one of your war councils disguised as games?
Lucas: Because you adore me.
Serathine: Incorrect.
Lucas: Because you adore being right. And here, you will be.
Serathine: ...Continue.
Another ping.
Cressida: At least rename me something flattering if I must participate. Glass Cracker makes me sound like a cheap ornament.
Lucas: You’re the expensive kind of ornament. The one people kill over.
Cressida: Acceptable. Carry on.
Chris snorted under his breath, shaking his head; he didn’t know anyone aside from Mia. Of course he heard about the Marchioness of Fitzgeralt, Cressida, and the Duchess D’Argente, Serathine. Both women were strong enough to make some kings bow, but until now, Chris had no reason to know more than the news of these two slipping by him through the days.
Mia’s typing bubble popped up, then vanished, then returned again like she was arguing with herself.
Mia: Lucas, this is reckless.
Lucas: "Reckless" is another word for "productive."
Chris finally started typing, his fingers moving without conscious decision.
Chris: If this is some elaborate joke, end it now.
The reply came instantly, of course.
Lucas: C’mon, Chris, there are two dominant omegas 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.
Chris’s typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then came back.
Chris: Fun? You think that’s what this is? I’m not here for your amusement.
He won’t be a toy for nobles with too much time and money on their hands.
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.
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 paused for a moment, the phone balanced loosely between his hands. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. Then he typed:
Chris: I know bonds weaken with distance. Scent too. If I get far enough...
He wanted to find out about this rumor a long time ago; now with this chat... he might find interesting information. Rowan already told him that his alphas and him would be able to track his scent through miles of traffic... Something told him that Dax was even worse.
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.
’Of course I was right.’ He thought before turning to the chat again.
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?
In all fairness, he didn’t care what nobles thought of him and that seemed to piss Hanna off.
Cressida: Because if you don’t, every snake in Saha will smell 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 time you move.
Serathine: And you need to understand something else. Bonds with dominant omegas 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 powers are violent enough when he’s in control. Without you... that control will fray.
Chris frowned and fell on the couch; he could feel the truth... But he didn’t want to accept another burden. ’Congratulations, Malek, you are the mad king’s tranquilizer. Now nobody would help you out even if you want to leave.’
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 tame him. Like you did.
Lucas: Tame? Careful. That makes it sound like Trevor rolls over for treats. We’re equals. But... 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 you.
Chris: Are you sure we are talking about Dax here?
He knew, damn it, he knew that Dax was treating him good, but the orders about his clothes... That was something the king would do and Hanna already confirmed with Killian that it was Dax’s order.
He left without a word and even if he knew Dax was probably busy... he could have at least given him a call.
Lucas: Oh, I’m sure. Don’t mistake me. He’s teeth and claws now, all threat, all control. Trevor was the same once. But dominance isn’t a wall, Chris; it’s a weapon. The moment 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 something almost... domestic. Dangerous, yes, but domestic all the same.
Mia: You’re all insane if you think my brother wants domestic.
Chris: She’s right. I don’t.
He was lying about it... Dax today, before he left without a word, was dangerously domestic...
Lucas: Then don’t call it that. Call it control or 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 stared at the screen, jaw tightening. The typing bubble blinked under his name for a long moment before finally appearing as text.
Chris: If I do this, it’s because I choose it. Not because he chained me into it.
Lucas: Then make sure he knows that every damn day.