The door opened, and Nadia stepped in, efficient as ever. Her dark hair was tied back in a low knot, the green of her eyes sharp and clear under the room’s warm lighting. She held a sleek tablet and the unmistakable posture of someone trying to remain calm.
"Highness," she said with a nod. Then, after a beat, "Your Majesty."
Dax inclined his head but said nothing. He was watching Chris again, more carefully now.
"I wanted to speak briefly," Nadia said, stepping closer. "Privately, if needed."
Chris gestured to the couch across from him. "It’s fine. I’m dressed."
Dax, still standing, frowned faintly. "What is it?"
Nadia glanced between them once, then lowered her gaze to her screen. "We reviewed your hormonal cycle over the last quarter and compared it against today’s biosignal readings."
Chris sighed. "This again?"
Nadia raised a brow. "Yes, you still didn’t enter heat despite not taking suppressants in the last almost three months."
Chris made a noncommittal sound, dragging one leg up onto the couch and letting it rest beneath the folds of his robe. "Wasn’t it supposed to take at least six months until doctors could see the damage?"
Nadia didn’t miss a beat. "Well, you got through the withdrawal faster than we preconized; this may be the same thing. Your system’s adapting quicker than expected... maybe overcorrecting."
She tapped once on her tablet, then looked up, voice firm. "We need to be cautious about it. Imagine entering heat in a room full of alphas. You wouldn’t just be at risk, you’d be a trigger."
Chris didn’t answer right away. He just stared into the middle distance, the glass of tea hovering near his mouth as if he wasn’t sure whether to drink or throw it. The silence stretched.
Dax finally moved, coming to lean against the back of the couch behind Chris, arms folded. "He’s never unattended," he said, quiet but absolute. "And when he leaves this wing, it’s with six trained guards and one territorial king."
Nadia’s eyes didn’t soften, but her voice did. "I know. That’s why I’m saying this now, because I trust that both of you will listen."
Chris set the glass down carefully. "And by this," he said, tone flat, "you mean...?"
She sighed. "If heat does hit early, and it hits hard, your body will react to every instinctive cue around it. Pheromones, scent memory, even emotional proximity. That means you’ll seek out the strongest source of safety and fixation..."
"Which is him," Chris muttered, jerking his head toward Dax without looking.
"Yes," Nadia confirmed. "And I don’t need to ask if you’ve already been physically close."
Chris opened his mouth to object.
Dax beat him to it. "No sex."
Nadia blinked once, clearly regretting her decision to engage. "Truly?"
Dax didn’t flinch. "He would have imploded from sheer pride conflict."
Chris made a strangled noise, somewhere between a scoff and a gasp. "I’m right here."
"Barely," Dax said mildly, settling on the armrest beside him like a permanent fixture.
Nadia narrowed her eyes, swiping again on her tablet. "Let me understand this correctly. The man who needed three omegas for his rut, three, and is now sleeping with a dominant omega in his bed every night, is claiming self-restraint?"
Chris’s head snapped around. "Three omegas?!"
Dax looked amused. "It was before this. And you, my little moon, are far more dangerous than all three combined."
"I’m not doing teamwork in bed," Chris hissed, flushed now, voice sharp with disbelief. "Absolutely not."
Dax grinned, the slow, satisfied expression that made Chris immediately want to throw something at him. Preferably something heavy.
"You won’t have to," Dax said, voice lower now, rough at the edges with something indulgent. "There will only be you."
Chris blinked, the flush creeping higher up his neck as he mumbled, "Well... good."
The words left before he could stop them. The rational part of his brain caught on a beat too late.
"Wait... I’m not doing the work of three men either!"
Dax’s smile turned lethal.
"Oh, love," he murmured, leaning in just slightly. "That was never in doubt."
Chris clutched the pillow tighter.
Nadia rose without a word, muttering something that sounded a lot like "I’ll come back when the pheromones drop below combat levels."
Dax didn’t move for a moment, not until the door clicked shut behind Nadia. Only then did he ease down from the armrest and onto the couch beside Chris, his larger frame settling with care to not crowd the reluctant omega.
Chris shifted, the pillow now acting more like a shield than comfort, his knuckles pale where they clutched the corner.
Dax glanced at him sideways. "Nothing’s going to happen, little moon."
Chris raised a brow, suspicious. "You say that like the decision’s up to you."
"It isn’t," Dax agreed, which was almost more unnerving. "It’s up to your body. And mine, if we’re being honest." His hand lifted, slow, and brushed a strand of hair off Chris’s forehead. "But if anything changes... I’ll know."
Chris blinked. "Because you’re a terrifying alpha who can smell a storm through three layers of stone and a national anthem?"
Dax gave him a look that said obviously, but then tapped lightly at the collar around Chris’s throat, the torque, locked in place with a scent-sensitive mechanism only Dax could unlock.
"Because this," he said quietly, "is keyed to your pheromones. If anything shifts too quickly, it warms. If it spikes, it pulses. I’ll know before you do."
Chris opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
"You’re serious."
"Deadly," Dax murmured, and let his fingers trail once over the base of the collar where the hidden sensors lay, tucked beneath the metal’s edge. "If you even start to enter heat, I’ll be alerted. The guards will be pulled. The doors sealed. No one touches you."
Chris narrowed his eyes at the window. "If I do go into heat, and you try to treat me like a porcelain hostage..."
Dax leaned back, one arm thrown over the backrest. "Then you can bite me."
Chris made a faint, outraged noise.
Dax smiled, pleased. "But not before I bite you first."