Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 268: New chances

Chapter 268: Chapter 268: New chances
Adonis Malek’s mansion in Altera sat above one of the older districts, stone terraces layered with gardens that had outlived several regimes. The windows were tall, the rooms cool even in summer. Adonis occupied the study overlooking the inner courtyard, seated at a polished desk that bore no clutter beyond a single tablet and a glass of water he hadn’t touched.
Silver threaded his beard neatly now, more pronounced in daylight. He wore reading glasses perched low on his nose, posture relaxed in the way of a man who had nothing to prove and no need to hurry.
The notification chimed softly.
Adonis glanced down.
Diplomatic Incident Between Rohan and Saha Escalates
Consort Christopher Targeted in Public Setting
He read the title without expression and opened the .
An "accidental" spill created by a Rohan diplomat. Christopher drenched in front of witnesses, contained quickly, guards stepping in, the King notably absent at the exact wrong moment. The document was private and didn’t reach the public yet.
Adonis exhaled slowly through his nose as he set the tablet down.
He knew Dax of Saha too well to mistake restraint for mercy. Soon enough, consequences would begin to unfold, quiet at first, then decisive. Careers and lives would end. Loyalties would be tested. And Rohan, sooner rather than later, would find itself kneeling before a dominant alpha who did not forgive slights against what was his.
Adonis rose from his chair and moved toward the window, hands clasped loosely behind his back as he looked out over Altera. The city was calm, unaware, sunlight catching on stone and glass as if nothing of note had occurred.
Most people, when this eventually reached them, would call it a mistake. Or they would reduce it to old resentment, that the King of Rohan still offended by Dax’s refusal to marry his daughter. A child of fifteen.
That assumption would be close enough to the truth to be dangerous.
But not correct.
Adonis smiled faintly as he reached for his phone.
Marianne Lancaster.
Commander of the Rohan Air Force. A dominant alpha. Disciplined, brilliant, politically legible. Everything Saha would have approved of in a consort. Everything that would have made sense on paper.
Not Christopher.
Christopher was Malek.
And a Malek-dominant omega male, at least until him, had known their place. Had understood what was expected of them.
Christopher had rewritten that expectation simply by existing.
Adonis’s thumb hovered over the call button, his expression thoughtful rather than pleased. This was not an alliance he wanted. It carried too much volatility, too many intersecting hungers. But necessity had a way of making distaste irrelevant.
The line connected on the third ring.
"Viscount Clearstone," Marianne said, her voice cool and amused. "What a... surprise."
Adonis tilted his head slightly, his gaze drifting back toward the city beyond the window. "Believe me," he replied mildly, "the feeling is mutual. I don’t make this call lightly."
"And yet you made it."
"Yes." A pause, deliberate. "Because there has been an incident in Saha. A diplomatic one. Dax’s current consort was implicated, publicly, with a representative of Rohan."
Silence stretched on the line, sharp with interest.
"That’s a careful way of phrasing it," Marianne said at last.
"The is sealed for now," Adonis continued calmly. "Internal channels only. But it will reach your king tonight. I thought you might appreciate knowing that before it becomes... curated."
"And you’re telling me," Marianne said slowly, "out of generosity?"
Adonis smiled faintly. "No. I’m telling you because this creates an opening."
"For what?" she asked, though he could already hear the direction of her thoughts shifting.
"For you to come to Saha," he said. "Officially. Properly. With reason no one can publicly deny."
Marianne exhaled, controlled but unmistakably pleased. "Dax won’t welcome me."
"He won’t be able to stop you," Adonis replied, gentle as a knife. "Not without appearing defensive. Not when the justification arrives stamped with Rohan’s seal."
"And what do you gain from this?" she asked.
Adonis’s gaze hardened, just a fraction. "Restitution."
A soft laugh. "That sounds personal."
"It is," he said evenly. "You want your dominant alpha. I want my dominant omega back."
The silence that followed was no longer cautious.
"I wondered when you’d admit it," Marianne said quietly. "You never forgave him for choosing differently."
"I forgave nothing," Adonis replied. "I adapted. There’s a difference."
Another pause. Then, softly, "When?"
"Soon," Adonis said. "Before Dax finishes closing ranks. Before he decides punishment alone is sufficient."
"And Christopher?" Marianne asked.
Adonis’s smile returned, thin and composed. "Christopher is the reason this will work."
He ended the call before she could say more, setting the phone aside with slow movements.
Outside, Altera remained calm, ignorant of the quiet convergence taking shape between ambition, desire, and grievance.
Adonis stood by the window a moment longer, watching the city breathe.
Some mistakes were accidents. Others were opportunities. And this one had finally chosen a side.
—
Mia didn’t wait for Chris to finish the sentence.
She laughed, sharp and breathless, and ran.
The wardrobe suite was less a room and more a carefully disguised apartment, a private warren of space designed for comfort and discretion. Mia knew that. She also knew, purely by luck and a lifetime of bad decisions, that there were multiple exits.
She darted through the inner corridor, heart hammering, nearly colliding with the edge of the bed as she burst into the bedroom shared by Dax and Chris. The sheets were still perfectly arranged, the space quiet and intimate in a way that made her snort as she vaulted past it.
"ABSOLUTELY NOT," Chris shouted from behind her, finally giving chase now that embarrassment had tipped into panic.
Mia skidded on polished stone, corrected, and burst through the far door...
Straight into the sitting room.
For one glorious second, she thought she’d made a terrible mistake.
Then she saw the main hall beyond it, wide and bright and blessedly public, and made a break for it like a woman possessed.
"GUARDS," Chris barked, voice sharp with command and mortification, but he was still too far behind.
Click!
Somewhere on the other side of the palace, Dax’s phone vibrated.
Mia didn’t slow. She did angle the phone just long enough to send three more photos with reckless agility, barely looking where she was going as she sprinted across the threshold into the main hall.
Click! Click! CLICK!
She nearly slammed into a startled courtier, swerved, and kept going, laughter spilling out of her as Chris finally reached the doorway and stopped dead.
Because that was when reality hit him.
The hall was full.
Not packed, but occupied. Enough eyes and distance that chasing her down in this robe would become a diplomatic incident all on its own.
Mia skidded to a halt near the far end, turned, and grinned at him like a victorious criminal.
"Delete them," Chris demanded, breathless now, one hand braced against the doorframe.
She held up the phone, eyes shining, utterly unrepentant. "No."
"I’m going to kill you."
She gave him a mock bow, already backing away. "You’ll have to survive Dax first."
Mia barely finished the sentence before the temperature in the hall changed.
The air thickened, pressure settling low and heavy, the way it did when a dominant alpha stopped tolerating chaos and started claiming space. Conversations faltered mid-word. A staff member near the far wall swallowed and took an unconscious step back.
Footsteps sounded from the main corridor.
Mia froze. Slowly,
very slowly,
she turned.
Dax stood at the threshold of the hall, gold mantle still on, posture relaxed in a way that fooled no one who had ever survived him. His gaze swept the space once, taking in the stopped movement, the too-careful stillness, and the way Chris stood framed in the doorway in that robe.
Then his eyes settled on Mia.
She straightened instinctively, her grin flickering but not quite dying. "Your Majesty," she said brightly. "Lovely timing."
Dax smiled.
It was not a kind expression.
"Mia," he said calmly, stepping fully into the hall. The doors behind him closed with a soft, final sound that echoed far louder than it should have. "I believe you have something that belongs to me."
She lifted the phone again, as if that might save her. "Technically, it belongs to the cloud."
Chris made a strangled sound behind her. "Dax!"
Dax raised a single hand.
Chris stopped immediately, his body responding before his mind caught up. The pheromones rolled out then, not aggressive, just enough to remind everyone exactly who set the gravity in this space.
Dax’s eyes never left Mia.
"You had your fun," he said mildly. "Now you’re done."
Mia hesitated. Just a fraction. Then, with exaggerated care, she slid the phone into her pocket. "You’re no fun when you’re territorial."
"I’m very fun," Dax replied evenly. "Just not for you."
He took another step closer.
Mia swallowed. "So, escort?"
"Yes," Dax said. "Killian is already on his way."
She sighed theatrically. "I’ll miss you both."
"You will survive it," Dax said.
"Oh," Chris muttered under his breath, staring after Mia. "This is going to be bad."