Chapter 90: Chapter 90: You win [Win-Win Bonus]
"Liar."
The word came out low, a lazy purr wrapped in arrogance. Dax didn’t even open his eyes when he said it, which somehow made it worse.
Chris made a sound halfway between a scoff and a laugh. "You have got to be kidding me."
"I’m not," Dax replied, stretching like a cat that owned the bed, the palace, and probably the entire continent. "You’re lying."
"About what?"
Dax cracked one eye open, that infuriating violet glint catching the light. "About being tired. You’re not tired. You’re pretending to be tired so you don’t have to admit you’re trembling."
Chris blinked, flatly. "That’s some world-class delusion right there."
"Hmm." Dax smiled faintly. "You’re trembling right now."
"I’m not trembling. I’m..." Chris stopped, glancing down at his own hand, which, traitorously, was shaking slightly. "That’s caffeine withdrawal."
Dax’s brow lifted. "I didn’t give you coffee."
"Exactly."
There was a long pause. Dax’s lips curved. "You’re adorable when you rationalize."
"Oh my god," Chris muttered, dragging both hands down his face. "Do you ever stop talking like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you’re the villain in a romance novel who thinks this is foreplay."
Dax’s laugh was low and rich, the kind that vibrated all the way down. "You say that like it isn’t working."
Chris glared at him. "It’s not working."
"Really?" Dax murmured. "Then why are you still here?"
And there it was, that look again, the smug one, the "I’ve already won" face that made Chris want to throw something.
Instead, he moved. Fast.
He shoved the sheets aside, swung one leg over Dax’s lap, and planted himself there before the man could blink. "I’m still here because you put eleven fucking alphas to watch me."
Dax’s eyes opened fully this time, amused, like he’d been waiting for exactly this level of chaos.
"Eleven?" he repeated, sounding delighted. "You counted."
Chris glared at him. "Hard not to, when every hallway smells like testosterone and overcompensation."
Dax grinned, that slow, infuriating kind of smile that made Chris want to hit him and maybe also kiss him, which was a very inconvenient combination. "They’re there for your safety."
"They’re there because you’re paranoid," Chris shot back. "You could’ve just asked me not to run away."
"I did," Dax said simply.
Chris blinked. "That was a threat, not a request."
"Semantics." This man had no ounce of shame in his bones and seemed dead set on annoying Chris to death.
"You literally said, ’Try to leave, and I’ll scent the entire city until I find you.’
""I said it affectionately."
"Oh, sure," Chris said, voice dry enough to strip paint. "Because nothing says romance like government-grade tracking and emotional terrorism."
Dax’s lips curved. "You keep calling me a villain, little moon, but you haven’t moved yet."
Chris’s jaw tightened. He realized belatedly that yes, he was still on Dax’s lap, straddling him, hands on the alpha’s bare shoulders, close enough to feel his heartbeat. And Dax looked absolutely smug about it.
"You’re impossible," Chris muttered.
"I prefer irresistible."
"That’s not what I said."
"Same thing."
Chris stared at him, incredulous, then decided that if the man was going to play smug, he was going to suffer for it. He shifted deliberately, pressing his hips down just enough to wipe that calm right off Dax’s face.
It worked.
The alpha’s breath hitched, his pupils darkening immediately. His hands came up automatically, fingers curling around his waist like he couldn’t help himself.
"Still irresistible?" Chris asked sweetly.
Dax’s voice came out low, rough at the edges. "Now you’re just being cruel."
Chris hummed and ground harder on Dax’s hardness, gaining a low sound from the alpha.
The sound that left Dax’s throat was halfway between a sigh and a growl, the kind that could melt steel if you were foolish enough to stay close.
Chris, being Chris, stayed close.
He leaned in, tone sharp as glass. "Good. Maybe now you’ll shut up."
And before his brain could catch up to his body, he kissed him.
It wasn’t gentle but impulsive, and he would regret everything he did this morning. It was a shut-up kiss, all irritation, defiance, and the faintest edge of something he refused to name. His fingers fisted in the front of Dax’s open shirt, dragging him down, and the alpha responded instantly, one hand sliding up the back of Chris’s neck, the other gripping his waist like he’d been waiting for permission.
For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to heat and breath and the soft, obscene sound of lips parting. Dax kissed back like he was starving for it, slow at first, then deeper, his tongue tracing the curve of Chris’s lower lip before pulling him closer, until breathing felt entirely optional.
And that was, of course, exactly when the door opened.
"Your Majesty..." Killian stopped mid-word.
Silence. The kind that should’ve been awkward, but wasn’t, at least not for Dax.
Chris froze. His brain short-circuited so hard he could practically hear the static. He tried to pull back, tried to move, but Dax’s hand on his waist tightened, just firm enough to say, ’no, not yet.’
The alpha didn’t even break stride. He deepened the kiss instead, slow and careful, like he was demonstrating something for an audience.
Chris made a sound of protest, muffled, indignant, and very much alive, but Dax swallowed it effortlessly. Only when he decided he’d made his point did he finally pull back, lips still a breath away from Chris’s.
He looked up then, violet eyes gleaming with the kind of smug composure that should’ve been illegal. "Yes, Killian?"
Killian, to his credit, looked... amused. He arched one brow, holding out the neatly pressed uniform draped over his arm. "Your departure attire, my king."
Dax smiled, completely unbothered. "Excellent timing."
Chris made a strangled noise and tried to get off Dax’s lap, "tried" being the operative word. The alpha’s arm stayed where it was, pinning him there with infuriating ease.
Killian’s mouth twitched, just barely, the faintest edge of a smirk. "Should I... return later?"
"No," Dax said smoothly, tilting his head toward Chris without looking away from his advisor. "You may proceed. My omega seems... determined to test my focus."
Chris shot him a look that could’ve curdled blood. "I’m testing your...? You!"
Killian cleared his throat softly, but the amusement in his storm-silver eyes betrayed him. "Understood. I’ll be brief."
"You’d better be," Chris muttered, glaring at both of them, cheeks flushed and pulse betraying every ounce of composure he wished he had.
Dax just smiled, slow and satisfied, brushing his thumb along the edge of Chris’s jaw, a quiet, smug victory in the shape of a touch. "You win, little moon," he murmured, so low only Chris could hear it.
Chris’s glare didn’t soften. But his heartbeat did.