Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

Chapter 367: Chapter 367: Too much credit.

Nero’s voice remained pleasant. "That sounds accusatory."

"It is."

"How direct. Dean has been a good influence."

"Do not use Dean to avoid this."

Nero’s smile faded.

Arion looked at him across the untouched plates and polished glass, seeing not the menace, not the cousin, not Dax’s theatrical heir with Chris’s terrifying intelligence beneath the beauty, but the veteran. The one who had walked infected ground in Alamina since he was fifteen. The one commanders listened to because he had earned the right in blood, ash, and beast pheromone residue.

"You have influence over beast-season rotations," Arion said.

Nero did not deny it.

"You are grinding Sebastian down."

For the first time, something moved in Nero’s face.

Arion’s voice stayed even. "He is still stable, but you are placing pressure where it looks like necessity. High-infection zones. Command-heavy shifts. Too many defensive calls require a dominant alpha’s field to remain active for too long. Enough exhaustion to weaken his resistance, but not enough to make anyone accuse the schedule of being abusive."

Nero leaned back slowly.

"You give me too much credit."

"No," Arion said. "I gave you too little until last summer."

Nero’s fingers went still around his glass.

Arion remembered it clearly now. Beast season, heat shimmering above the outer barricades, soldiers rotating through contaminated sectors, Hendrik’s people exhausted, and Sahan support integrated with Alaminian command. Sebastian had been there.

And Nero had been everywhere.

Never directly beside him for too long.

Never close enough to be called interference.

A meeting before one rotation. A corridor crossed after another. A command review where Nero’s pheromones were leashed so tightly no one should have noticed them at all.

Except Arion had.

After three dominant omegas failed compatibility screening with Sebastian in ways that made no biological sense. After a fourth reported sensory rejection so sharp it bordered on pain. After Hendrik’s medical team marked Sebastian’s field as "temporarily incompatible under beast-season stress."

Arion’s jaw tightened. "You used your pheromones."

Nero said nothing.

"That subtle enigma residue," Arion continued. "Dean told me how you two manipulated the labs five years ago so nobody would think about mating the two of you. "What’s stopping you from doing it again?"

Nero’s eyes were unreadable.

"Very clever," Arion said. "No one can accuse you of touching him. No one can say you interfered. Sebastian remains untouched, unclaimed, unapproached. And somehow, every dominant omega becomes wrong for him."

A faint smile touched Nero’s mouth.

"You are impressive when you decide to be frightening," Nero said.

"I am not the frightening one at this table."

Nero’s smile thinned. "That is debatable."

"No," Arion said. "It is not."

The room settled between them, beautiful and expensive, but suddenly too small.

Nero looked toward the dark glass wall overlooking the Sahan capital, his reflection caught faintly in it.

"I did not corner him."

"Not physically."

Nero’s gaze returned to him.

Arion did not look away. "That is why I am here. Because you are good enough at this that everyone else will notice too late."

For a moment, Nero looked almost offended.

Then, very quietly, he laughed.

"Dax would be proud."

"Dax would understand," Arion corrected. "That is not the same thing."

"It often is with him."

"Not if Chris finds out."

That finally changed Nero’s expression.

Arion pressed the advantage. "Dax may see the pattern and give you a speech about restraint while secretly admiring the execution. But Chris will not admire it. Chris will look at Sebastian being narrowed into a corner by biology he did not agree to, and he will see exactly what you are doing."

Nero kept his terrifying smile. "And are you going to tell Chris?"

He tilted his head with such elegance that Arion thought, not for the first time, that Nero looked like a death angel someone had dressed in silk and given legal authority.

"Would you be the one to stress my mother when Dax is willing to kill even the smallest inconvenience?" Nero asked softly. "Arion, he will not go for me or you if you dare to reach Chris. But he will go for Dean, and you know it."

The room became very still.

Outside the private dining hall, the Sahan guards remained at their posts, quiet and disciplined. Inside, the table between them looked too civilized for the conversation taking place over it: wine, polished plates, untouched fish, a tablet locked beneath biometric seals, and two princes calmly discussing the ways powerful men punished each other through the people they loved.

Arion did not deny it.

Dax would not strike at Nero first. Not if Chris was hurt by the knowledge. He would not touch Arion either. Dax understood heirs too well for that, and he loved Nero too much to turn the blade in the obvious direction.

But Dean?

Dean was Arion’s center.

Dean was where consequence lived.

Dax would smile, apologize beautifully, and place pressure exactly where Arion would feel it most. Not with murder. Not with crude violence. Something worse. A delayed agreement. A cold diplomatic correction. Sahan’s absence from a critical operation. A public courtesy sharpened enough to bleed.

Nero watched understanding settle and smiled wider.

"There," he said. "You do know."

Arion leaned back in his chair, expression calm. "I was never going to tell Chris."

Nero raised a brow.

Arion picked up his glass and did not drink. "I did not come here because I developed a conscience in the middle of dinner."

Nero stared at him.

Then, slowly, he laughed.

It began low, almost disbelieving, and turned into something warmer, darker, and genuinely amused.

"Oh," Nero said, eyes bright. "Dean really did not civilize you."

Arion’s mouth curved faintly. "Dean improved my manners. Not my nature."

Nero leaned back, still laughing under his breath. "You are terrible."

"Yes."

"Well, you are Otto’s son and grew under Dax’s care. It was inevitable."

Arion accepted that with the weary dignity of a man who could not argue facts. "But, Nero, let Sebastian rest this year."

Nero picked up his cutlery and glanced at his fish. It was almost cold, but wasting food offended him on principle, and Sahan kitchens deserved respect even when people discussed crimes over dinner.

"I did not intend to use Sebastian this year," he said, taking a bite. "Actually, this year it will be Draxil. Eva Thornevik should be near the battlefield too."

Arion’s eyes sharpened. "Eva?"

"Mhm." Nero cut another piece of fish with perfect delicacy. "Did Otto not want to dispose of Andrea, her sweet, poisoning husband?"

"Not only Otto." Arion’s voice cooled. "Our intelligence confirmed Andrea was responsible for the beast breach at the wedding. Possibly other incidents too."

Nero’s expression did not change, but the room seemed to grow colder around him. "Then beast season is practical."

"Andrea has interdiction from the field."

"Yes." Nero smiled faintly. "Which is why the permission must look reluctant."

Arion leaned back. "Explain."

"Eva pleaded last year," Nero said. "Publicly enough to be useful, privately enough to be deniable. She wanted Andrea allowed near the defensive line under supervision, saying his exclusion was humiliating, that Draxil needed unity, and that a husband barred from standing beside his wife made their marriage look weaker than it was."

"It is weak."

"Obviously." Nero’s smile sharpened. "But we do not need truth. We need paperwork."

Arion’s gaze narrowed. "You will use Eva’s request as justification."

"I will use Eva’s request as a reason to grant a limited exception," Nero corrected. "Monitored by Saha. Restricted enough to look safe, visible enough for Andrea to mistake it for opportunity."

"And if he refuses?"

"He will not." Nero took another calm bite. "He is already suspicious because he still has not let Eva mark him. A husband desperate to look devoted cannot afford to refuse a chance to stand beside her under supervision."

Arion’s eyes narrowed. "You are not only baiting him."

"No."

"That is terrifying. For what?"

Nero’s smile became pleasant in the way sharp objects were pleasant when polished. "You will find out soon."

"Nero."

"It is nothing bad," Nero said, far too smoothly. "I promise."

Arion stared at him.

"That," he said, "is exactly what bad people say before doing something awful."

Nero lifted his glass. "Then it is fortunate I am not bad. Merely useful."