CHAPTER 457: CHAPTER 457: SEBASTIAN

The medical wing felt much larger when it was quiet.

Sebastian lay back against the pillows, arms folded behind his head as he stared at the faint pattern of the ceiling tiles. The room still smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender, one of Marin’s compromises between medical necessity and Lucas’s insistence that his children shouldn’t grow up associating every infirmary with hospitals. The IV at his elbow dripped steadily, the cool medication soothing the last remnants of heat crawling under his skin.

Physically, he felt steady again. The fever had burned itself out hours ago, leaving only a faint residue of warmth at the back of his neck. His stomach no longer twisted with the early nausea. The disorienting fog that had made the lights too bright and every sound too sharp had finally lifted. He wasn’t fighting the overwhelming instinct to bite the mattress anymore, and he intended to take that victory with the dignity appropriate for someone who fully planned to pretend that particular urge had never existed.

Still, the quiet bothered him.

He knew exactly why Marin had let his parents shepherd him into this room earlier: Trevor’s calm, efficient tone on one side and Lucas’s hand on his shoulder on the other. He knew why they had stayed until he begged them to go get some rest, insisting he just needed space to breathe and maybe sleep off whatever was left of his symptoms.

What he hadn’t told them was that the physical discomfort wasn’t what unsettled him most.

It was the implications.

He shifted slightly, adjusting the blanket over his legs. His bracelet, an academy issue, plain silver, and engraved with his initials, gleamed faintly under the overhead lights as he turned his wrist. They’d already taken his samples, run the panels, and confirmed what everyone had already suspected.

Dominant alpha.

He exhaled through his nose.

It wasn’t unexpected. Not with his parents. Not with the bloodlines involved. But somehow it still felt different when it stopped being hypothetical and became a line on a medical chart.

He rubbed at his temples, feeling the faint pulse behind his eyes. A sense of something new stretching itself inside him, something instinctive and old, something that didn’t quite belong to the boy he had been yesterday.

Rumors had already followed him at the academy. Whispers about his scent sharpening. The way other students reacted to him in training. The offhand comments from instructors who weren’t subtle enough to hide their interest. Noble families had been sniffing around, not literally, thankfully, though Sebastian wouldn’t put it past some of them. Formal dinners, invitations, and names dropped into conversation as if he wouldn’t recognize the bait.

And the worst part?

Everyone assumed they already knew the ending.

House Fitzgeralt. House Altera.

He sighed and dragged a hand through his curls, letting his head fall to the side until it rested lightly against the pillow. The political gossip was relentless, two powerful bloodlines, shades of empire and tradition, and dominance on both sides. His parents had refused the marriage talk outright, but that had never stopped bored aristocrats or overeager strategists.

Sebastian had overheard enough of the academy’s faculty to know they considered him a future bargaining piece.

But he wasn’t a bargaining piece. His parents would sooner park a demolition crew in front of the academy than let anyone even hint at using him like that. And Sebastian himself had inherited enough of Lucas’s stubborn, quiet defiance and Trevor’s unnervingly calm brand of ruthlessness to guarantee no one got any ideas.

Still... the pressure lingered in the background, the way humidity settles before a storm.

And yet, despite every protest from his parents, despite the very obvious reality that Dax already had three children of his own, the speculation refused to die. People conveniently ignored details when those details didn’t fit their fantasy.

Uncle Dax was... complicated.

To the public, he was terrifying. Charismatic. A king who smiled on camera only when absolutely necessary and who could flatten entire diplomatic negotiations with a single sentence. To Sebastian, he was the fun uncle who snuck him hot chocolate at events and he was the one who once let Sebastian hold an antique sword before Chris walked in and nearly had a heart attack.

But even Sebastian, who had known Dax his whole life, would never describe him as safe.

And the nobles, with their endless appetite for alliances and their obsession with bloodlines, saw an opportunity where none existed.

Sebastian Vale Fitzgeralt, a confirmed dominant alpha and heir to one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the world.

And on the other side, Altera of Saha with three royal heirs.

Two families with zero blood connection and a thousand political fantasies.

Never mind that Dax’s oldest son was ten and more interested in climbing palace trees than politics. Never mind that Dax’s daughter had already declared she would marry "someone with nice hair" and nothing more. Never mind that Dax himself had publicly stated, twice, on record, that he would rather "eat the regional constitution" than force any of his children into a political marriage.

But facts rarely mattered to aristocrats who lived off gossip like it was oxygen.

Sebastian pressed a hand to his pulse again, feeling it beat steady beneath his skin. It wasn’t the politics that scared him. It was the speed with which people were willing to turn his future into public discourse before he even knew what he wanted for himself.

He shifted his gaze to the darkened window. His reflection looked different now, not noticeably so, but enough that he felt it rather than saw it. A sharper set to his posture. A steadier control of his breathing. A sense of gravity he hadn’t had the day before.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if pressure alone could dismiss the weight gathering there.

If anyone tried to push him into something he didn’t want, there would be consequences. And not polite, diplomatic consequences. He had Lucas’s capacity for precision cruelty and Trevor’s talent for smiling while ending someone’s career. If that wasn’t enough, one phone call to Saha would unleash Dax on the problem, and Dax never solved things quietly.

Sebastian almost smiled at that.

Almost.

He let his head settle deeper into the pillow, the faint hum of the IV easing the last trace of heat under his skin.

He wasn’t afraid of what he was becoming. He was just... aware. Aware of how fast this would spread. Aware of the scrutiny waiting for him. Aware that the academy would be holding an emergency staff meeting by morning. Aware that the nobles would treat this like breaking news.

But he also knew one thing with absolute certainty:

His parents would stand with him.

His brother would worship him regardless.

And his future was his to decide as long as his entire family was still alive.