CHAPTER 281: CHAPTER 281: STORM IN SAHA

The following evening, the dining room was set for two, quiet save for the soft clink of cutlery and the low hum of conversation. Lucas sat comfortably, half-leaning into his chair, a glass of wine balanced between his fingers. Trevor was opposite, his posture precise, though his violet eyes never drifted far from him.

"We’ll need to decide the order," Trevor said, unfolding the agenda like it was another battlefield map. "Your official presentation comes last, but before that, the visits. The Orsinis will expect you first; they financed the hospital’s capital wing. Then the Fritz estate, given Elena’s reach at court. If we ignore her, she’ll make noise."

Lucas swirled his wine, his mouth curving in faint mischief. "So a week of smiling, shaking hands, and pretending not to be bored out of my mind. Lovely."

"You’ll endure it; it’s better than Serathine and Cressida tormenting you," Trevor replied, voice calm and deliberate. "And when it’s done, no one in Palatine will question your place again."

Lucas’s smirk sharpened. "That almost sounded like encouragement."

Trevor’s lips twitched, but he didn’t answer, reaching instead for his own glass.

The moment stretched, comfortable, until Lucas’s phone buzzed across the linen. He reached lazily for it, already grinning when he saw the group chat flare to life.

Glass Crackers

Chris: I’M DONE.

Chris: HE LOCKED A COLLAR ON ME.

Mia: what the actual—

Chris: WITH HIS PHEROMONES. It’s sealed. I can’t take it off.

Mia: Maybe he is just intense... you know the king and all his power?

Chris: intense?? INTENSE??? He is insane. I’m going to strangle him with it.

Lucas’s grin faltered, his eyes almost devoid of emotion. Trevor reached for his napkin and dabbed his face with it like a man preparing to kill someone. "What is the matter?"

Lucas hesitates a moment, his fingers tightening on the phone’s case. "Dax... forced Chris to wear a collar. Pheromone locked, is that even possible?"

Trevor lowered the napkin with precise care, his violet gaze flicking up. "It is possible. Dax has one. Commissioned years ago and from what I’ve heard, he adjusted it for Christopher."

Lucas’s brows arched, more curious than afraid. "And he actually used it?"

Trevor inclined his head, calm, certain. "He would. The piece cost him twenty million, one for every citizen of Saha. It was designed to be both a statement and a symbol."

Lucas leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine again, his mouth curling faintly. "That sounds like him. But why a collar? At this point he could use a ring like us; why risk Chris’s anger?"

"In Saha, a collar like that is considered the most desired jewelry an omega can wear. It isn’t seen as a leash but as a bond, an unmistakable, permanent mark of belonging." His lips twitched faintly, dry. "Most omegas would beg or kill for the privilege."

Lucas’s green eyes glinted, his smirk tugging sharp at the edges. "Chris doesn’t beg. And he definitely doesn’t kill for jewelry."

Trevor’s mouth curved, the faintest echo of amusement. "No. He’ll curse Dax for a month straight, threaten to rip it off, and probably try to throw it at his head." He played with the wine glass stem for a second. "But this could break what they have built until now. Chris was taken from everything he knew and placed in Dax’s palms."

"Well, let’s see the group."

Lucas unlocked his phone again and turned the screen so Trevor could see.

Glass Crackers

Chris: I LOOK LIKE A DAMN PET. HE CALLED IT "PROTECTION."

Mia: ... well technically it is. now no one can touch you.

Chris: NO ONE COULD TOUCH ME BEFORE. I HAVE HANDS!!

Mia: but do your hands cost 20 million?

Chris: MIA I WILL END YOU.

Lucas: you sound owned, Christopher.

Chris: SHUT UP LUKE OR I’LL MAIL YOU THIS THING.

Mia: please don’t; Palatine customs would keep it and then auction it off.

Chris: ...

Chris: ... actually maybe that’s better. let someone ELSE choke on it.

Serathine: Chris, calm down, I know Dax can be hard to understand but he is doing something traditional.

Chris: I DON’T CARE! HE FORCED DRESSES DOWN MY THROAT ALL WEEK AND LIED TO ME THAT IT’S A NECKLACE.

Chris: I WANTED TO BE THE BETTER MAN BUT NO, HE JUST USED IT. I’M DONE WITH THIS BULLSHIT.

Lucas’s thumb hovered over the screen, his grin gone entirely now. Chris’s words scrolled bright and furious across the chat, each one like a blade thrown into the center of the table.

Glass Crackers

Mia: Chris... breathe. You’re spiraling.

Serathine: Christopher, enough. Don’t write what you’ll regret.

Chris: REGRET? I REGRET GETTING ON THE PLANE. I REGRET TRUSTING HIM. I REGRET ALL OF IT.

Chris: I’M DONE TALKING.

Then the thread went dead.

No curses. No swearing. No threats to bite.

Just nothing.

Lucas’s green eyes flicked up, sharp and cold, meeting Trevor’s across the table. "He stopped."

Mia: Chris?

Mia: Answer me. RIGHT NOW.

Serathine: Christopher. Type something. Anything.

Mia: Luke. Say something. He always answers you.

Lucas’s thumb moved fast.

Lucas: Chris. Don’t go quiet on me. Fight, curse, scream, I don’t care. Just answer.

No reply.

The silence stretched. Longer than it ever had with Chris.

Trevor took the phone from him, scanning the stillness of the thread like it was an enemy formation. His jaw flexed once, though his tone stayed perfectly measured. "This is worse."

Lucas leaned back slowly, though his fingers had gone rigid around the stem of his glass. "He doesn’t stop talking. Not unless..."

"Not unless he’s given up," Trevor finished, voice quiet.

The phone buzzed at last.

Glass Crackers

Chris: I don’t want to fight anymore.

Chris: He can keep his crown, his palace, his collar. He can go to hell for all I care.

Lucas’s thumb stilled above the screen. The words were short, flat, nothing like the usual fury or theatrics that filled the group. No threats, no caps lock, no fire. Just emptiness.

Mia: ...no. No, no, no. That’s not you.

Serathine: Christopher. Listen to me. Anger is one thing. Silence is another. You cannot give him nothing.

Lucas’s grip tightened around the phone until his knuckles whitened. He typed fast, sharp.

The chat stayed empty. Seconds stretched, heavy as stone.

Trevor reached across the table, steady fingers closing over Lucas’s wrist. His violet eyes were unflinching, cold with certainty. "So, it took one month for the King of Saha to get his omega on his knees."

Lucas’s jaw clenched, his green eyes narrowing, sharp with something colder than worry. "Then the king of Saha had better fix it fast. Because if Chris stays like this..." He set the phone down hard against the tablecloth. "...we all know what comes next."

Trevor inclined his head, calm even as steel edged his voice. "Yes, a war with an unstable dominant alpha that can crush armies with his pheromones."