Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 294: Shadows in the park

Chapter 294: Chapter 294: Shadows in the park
"Here!" Heather called brightly into the shadows. "We are here!"
The words echoed off the hedges, swallowed and softened, but unmistakable.
Chris’s brows lifted slightly.
’Ah. So we had reached that part of the program.’
He turned his head just enough to speak, his voice still calm and warm.
"Heather..."
"Shh!"
She slapped her hand over his mouth. Actually slapped it there.
Her eyes widened immediately afterward, as if she had only just realized she had placed her bare palm over the mouth of Saha’s consort and emotional support of an apex predator of a king.
"Sorry," she whispered, mortified but refusing to remove her hand. "But you need to not talk for a second."
Chris stared at her, black eyes unblinking.
Then, very carefully, nodded.
She took a slow breath like someone preparing to deliver state secrets.
"Okay," she said quietly, leaning close, as if the hedges themselves might be informants. "Something is... happening."
He made a very serious expression behind her hand, while his ribs were struggling to keep the laughter in.
This pleased her.
"I was contacted," Heather continued, whispering the way teenagers whisper when they are absolutely certain they’re being subtle. "By people. Important people. Strategically... imaginative people."
She paused dramatically to ensure gravity. Her blue eyes widening with each word.
Chris, to his eternal credit, did not even smile.
"They told me," she went on, voice dropping further, "that there may be an attempt. To... Ummm..." She swallowed. "To kidnap you."
The grand confession was delivered in a hushed, self-satisfied whisper, as if she’d just solved global economic collapse and was presenting the answer quietly to avoid overwhelming him.
Her hand finally left his mouth so she could clasp both hands around his wrist instead, solemn and earnest.
"You’re not supposed to know," she informed him gravely. "They think I am just a helpless teenage princess who will panic and do whatever they want, and that if I get you alone they will..."
"Yes," Chris said gently.
She blinked.
"Yes...?"
"I know," he said.
She stared at him, mouth parting in offended disbelief. Her dreams of saving Chris and becoming closer had shattered.
"You... you know?"
He nodded, kind eyes crinkling lightly.
"We’ve been aware for some time."
"We?"
"Dax," he said softly, "and Rowan. And Sahir. And... well. Saha."
Heather processed that.
Then she made a small sound somewhere between outrage, embarrassment, and reluctant admiration.
"You knew? And you still came with me?"
"Yes."
She stared harder.
"Why?"
Chris smiled then, warm in a way that softened even shadow.
"Because I promised you," he said simply. "And because we were aware that Adonis would try something, as he thinks he is entitled to take me back." Chris said with the same conspiratorial tone.
"But why?" Heather asked, more confused than ever. "You are already in a very powerful position. You are the consort of Dax of Saha. FUTURE QUEEN!" She yelled in the end. Her mind was not comprehending what Adonis would want more.
Chris straightened now, as his back was still recovering from the stamina of a certain alpha. "Well, we don’t know yet. We hoped to find out today."
Heather was looking at him like he grew another head in a matter of seconds. "Are you mad? Why...? Does Dax know?"
Chris blinked once, slow, patient, almost amused.
"Yes," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Dax knows."
Heather stared at him.
Then she stared harder.
Christopher genuinely wondered if Heather needed glasses.
Then she actually leaned back a fraction, like she needed personal space from the sheer insanity of the universe.
"You told him," she clarified, voice trembling somewhere between horror and awe, "that someone is planning to kidnap you... and instead of locking you in a safe, chaining you to a throne, and declaring war on every soul involved... He said,
’Yes, sweetheart, go enjoy a walk with danger.
’"
Chris genuinely laughed.
"No," he corrected fondly. "He hated it with every fiber of his royal soul, but I’m my own person, Heather."
Heather could see it now. The terrifying desert king was pacing his office like a caged panther, radiating offended divinity.
"And yet here you are!" she hissed.
"Yes," Chris agreed pleasantly. "Because he trusts his systems, Rowan and Killian. And the ten alphas you pretended not to see on the way in. And," his smile sharpened just slightly, "because he knows I’m not helpless."
Heather opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"You’re insane," she declared. "You’re both insane. You married each other because the gods decided madness should be a shared hobby."
Chris tilted his head thoughtfully, the gesture so graceful that Heather wanted to yell out of spite.
"That’s... not entirely inaccurate."
Heather grabbed his sleeve, shaking it once, like she was trying to physically revive his sanity.
"Christopher," she hissed, "this isn’t romantic or noble. This is lunacy. Adonis Malek isn’t some dramatic suitor. He’s desperate, and desperate people do stupid things. You do not walk politely into a kidnapping."
"I don’t intend to," Chris replied calmly. "I intend to watch what they try. To learn. To see who they send. Who they trust. What they risk. Information like this doesn’t get gifted twice."
She stopped shaking him and just stared for a while.
"...you sound like a king."
Chris stilled.
Something flickered in his eyes.
Heather saw it, and she finally understood.
"Oh," she whispered.
"Yes," Chris said gently. "Oh."
A beat of silence stretched between them, thin with tension.
Her throat tightened.
"So," she whispered. "We wait?"
Chris looked past her, deeper into the hedges where sunlight fractured into thin, wary bands.
"Yes," he said softly. "We wait."
Heather swallowed.
"Christopher," she whispered, suddenly small again, "if something happens..."
"If something happens," Chris interrupted gently, "Rowan will move. Killian will move. And Dax..." His lips curved faintly, affection and something far darker behind it. "...Dax will end the world before he lets them keep me."
Heather didn’t doubt that.
Not for a heartbeat.
But her jaw tightened anyway. "You know I can’t watch action movies yet, but kidnapping seems to be on the table."
Chris huffed a laugh, the sound soft and genuinely amused despite the tightening noose of tension around them.
"That’s unfortunate timing," he said lightly. "Though in fairness, this is going to be significantly less cinematic and significantly more disappointing for whoever thought this was clever."
Heather glared at him.
"This isn’t funny," she hissed. "I’m not psychologically prepared to be a supporting character in your crime thriller arc. I am sixteen. I should be emotionally devastated by mediocre romance, not international felonies."
"You handled heartbreak against a reigning monarch with remarkable grace," Chris reminded her gently. "You’re already ahead of most heads of state."
"That doesn’t help!" she whisper-yelled, but her voice shook less now. He had a way of doing that. Making fear feel like something manageable.
He turned his head slightly, black eyes shifting toward the deeper hedge corridor.
His voice softened.
"Heather."
She went still.
"What?"
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his head tilted a fraction, his attention cutting so precisely in one direction that it felt like gravity followed.
Heather heard it a second later.
The sound of breathing that was not their own.
Muted footfall brushing dirt. Cloth whispering against branches. The sound of movement closing in.
"...oh," she breathed again, smaller this time.
"Yes," he murmured.
Chris existed there with terrifying calm, like the centerpoint of a battlefield that had not yet realized it belonged to him.
Heather swallowed hard and then, because she was fifteen, but considered herself sixteen and was still partly catastrophically honest, whispered, "If I pass out, tell history I died bravely."
Chris smiled faintly. "Heather."
"What?"
"Don’t faint."
A shape separated from the shadows ahead.
Then another.
Then another.