Chapter 43: Chapter 43: Striping Layers
The door to the terrace swung shut behind him with a soft click. Dax walked down the corridor toward the office at the back of the villa, his steps silent on the marble, the muted gold embroidery at his cuffs catching the light as he moved.
He kept his face blank out of habit, but his jaw ached from holding it tight. ’Years of waiting,’ he thought. ’Years of bonds failing and time wasted with engagements that got nowhere. And when I finally find one...’
The thought trailed off, replaced by a low burn in his chest. Chris, sitting across from him, bright and wary, said he’d never had a heat. Saying it like an accusation, as if Dax had chosen this. The words had landed harder than he’d expected.
’He’s alive. He’s whole. That should be enough.’ He reached the office door and braced one hand against the frame, fingers pressing into the wood until his knuckles were white.
"Fuck." The word slipped out before he could swallow it. A crack in the mask. The ache was sharper than any wound he could name, but he forced a slow breath in, then another, until his shoulders loosened. Then he stepped into the room and closed the door softly behind him.
Even under years of medication, Chris’s scent had been there, rain, cool and clean, threaded with something warm and stubborn. It clung to Dax’s hands, the cuffs of his shirt, and the back of his throat. ’He can’t be broken. I can feel his scent everywhere, even on suppressants.’
He moved to the desk, papers already laid out by Tyler, and lowered himself into the chair. ’Dinner with Mia will help. She sent him into my path. She knows more than she realizes. With the right questions she can lead me to the clinic without him feeling cornered.’
His pen rested loosely between his fingers. ’Even if he is infertile, I won’t lose my mate. He’s mine as he is.’
—
Chris stayed on the terrace after Dax left, the hiss of the sea and the gulls filling the silence where the king’s presence had been. He picked at the edge of his dessert with the spoon, not really tasting it anymore. The table felt too big, the light was too bright, and his thoughts were jumbled, almost maddening.
His phone buzzed once, a soft vibration against the wood. He wiped his fingers on the napkin and flipped it over.
Mia: on my way. Villa looks insane. Don’t panic. ❤️
Chris stared at the message, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. ’Don’t panic.’ Easy for her to say. He typed back a quick "ok" and set the phone down, the screen still glowing pale in the light.
"Mr. Malek?" a voice said behind him.
Chris turned sharply. A tall man in a dark suit stood just inside the terrace doors, tablet in hand. He was broad-shouldered but somehow discreet, the sort of man you only noticed when he spoke.
"I’m Tyler Bell," the man said, stepping forward enough to be seen. "Chief Secretary. His Majesty asked me to introduce myself and handle a few things for you."
Chris blinked at him, still gripping his phone. "Handle what exactly?" he asked, suspicion threading his voice.
"Your electronics," Tyler said evenly. "Now that you’re under the protection of the royal house of Saha, our security protocols apply to you as well. All your devices need to be replaced with units vetted by our security department. We’ll make exact clones of your data and settings. Nothing will be lost or leaked."
Chris’s grip tightened on the phone. "You’re just... taking my stuff?"
"I understand that you’re uncomfortable," Tyler said calmly. "But one breach of security and both your safety and His Majesty’s are at risk. We’re also talking about state secrets now. This protocol would have been applied even if you were only a contractor working for us."
Chris let out a long breath. There was no point in arguing with a man who was clearly just doing his job. He slid the phone across the table toward Tyler.
"Thank you," Tyler said quietly. He took the phone without ceremony and set a sleek, identical unit down in its place. "This is the temporary replacement. All your files, contacts, and apps will appear exactly as before."
Chris eyed the new phone warily. "Feels like being fitted for a collar," he muttered.
Tyler didn’t react beyond the smallest flick of an eyebrow. "This is more of a shield than a collar," he said evenly. "We don’t read your messages; we make sure no one else can. His Majesty was very clear about that."
"Privacy from the tyrant king?" Chris gave a small, crooked smile. "I’m not stupid; I’ll take it."
Tyler allowed himself the ghost of a smile in return. "Wise choice," he said. "It will make things easier for all of us."
Chris thumbed the edge of the new device, the identical wallpaper glowing back at him, then set it down again. "Guess I don’t have a choice anyway."
"You do," Tyler replied calmly. "Just not a safe one." He glanced at his tablet. "Your sister’s car is at the gate. She’ll be here in a few minutes."
Chris exhaled, leaning back in his chair. The sea hissed below the terrace and gulls wheeled above the breakwater. "Great," he muttered. "Family reunion in a fortress."
Tyler inclined his head, then stepped back toward the doors. "Call if you need anything," he said, and left him to the view and the faint vibration of the replacement phone on the table.
The door clicked shut behind him. For a few minutes Chris just sat there, tracing circles on the wood with his fingertip, listening to the hiss of the waves. The new phone buzzed once, a discreet vibration against the table. He turned it over, a message from Mia with a string of hearts and a selfie from the back seat of a luxurious car, two minutes out.
Chris gave a small, tired huff, set the phone back down and reached for the last piece of fruit, more to keep his hands busy than because he was hungry.
He wasn’t sure if he was waiting for his sister or bracing for her. Either way, the moment of quiet on the terrace felt like the last breath before another wave hit.