Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina Chapter 23: The side of him (2)

Arion studied him for a long mont, the way one might study the edge of a knife before deciding how much pressure to apply.

"Nothing unreasonable," he said quietly. "I want your consent to stop treating this like a temporary complication."

Lucas’s eyes narrowed. "Be specific."

"Your son is already placing himself between and the rest of the world," Arion replied. "He did it without thinking about politics, public image, or consequences. He did it because his oga instincts recognized mine as... soone important to him." A pause, his gaze sharpening. "I will not allow the governnt, your advisors, or any well-aning relative to train him into believing this needs to be postponed, softened, or buried under procedure. I am done with conversations that exist only to stall."

His fingers tightened slightly on the armrest. "So I use whatever leverage exists to move things forward."

"Do you hear yourself?" Lucas’s voice cooled by several degrees.

"You were the ones who imposed a two-year waiting period, restricted contact, and put every interaction under Palatine oversight, even after I offered more than enough and took the political heat ant for you from Otto," Arion said, perfectly calm, knowing exactly how much power he held. "And you frad it as discipline for the fact that I said aloud what was already true—that Dean is mine."

Lucas opened his mouth, but Arion did not give him the space.

"Don’t lecture about boundaries," he continued evenly. "You know I never ant it as possession of an object. You know that because Trevor speaks the sa way. Because dominant alphas speak that way when they recognize their mate. So let’s stop pretending this is about semantics." His golden eyes hardened. "I understand you are a father and that your first instinct is to protect your child. But he was never in danger with ."

Lucas gave a short, humorless scoff. "Are you really going to make this my fault now? Take so accountability, Your Highness. Trevor spoke that way after we bonded, not the second ti we ever t. There’s a distinction between trust earned and trust imposed."

Arion sighed. "Alamina knows when a siren oga is changing the tilines; we are best at managing everything that is about dominant pheromones. There are signs and people that can rember their past lives with you without ever eting or knowing about you. Those are the real priests. I’m not going to tell Dean about your past, but I’m proving that Alamina knows more than you ever imagined."

Arion held his gaze, unflinching.

"I am not only a Crown Prince," he said quietly. "In Alamina, I am the one they send when the containnt lines break. When sothing old stirs. When the beasts that should not exist anymore rember how to hunt." His voice lowered. "There are only a handful of us who can face them head-on and survive. Fewer who can kill them."

A pause.

"I have been out of my territory for over three months. That is a strategic vulnerability."

Lucas’s jaw tightened.

"Every day I stay here," Arion continued, "is a day soone else is standing where I should be, holding a line they are not built to hold. I do not have the luxury of drawn-out negotiations or of waiting for committees to decide when my instincts are allowed to matter. The world I rule does not pause because my personal life becos complicated."

His eyes hardened, sharp and lethal now.

"My people need whole. And yes, if securing that ans trading your peace of mind for their survival, I will make that trade without hesitation."

The realities of the words hit the room with silence.

Lucas understood exactly what Arion ant. He had lived long enough, fought enough wars, buried enough nas to recognize the tone of soone who carried the weight of being the last line between order and annihilation.

Understanding did not an forgiveness.

"You had no right," Lucas said finally, his voice tight. "You had no right to use that. Not my past, nor the way my children are wired because of it."

Arion did not deny it. He simply tilted his head a fraction, studying Lucas with the sa precision he might use on a threat assessnt report.

"What if Dean has the sa pheromone profile?" he asked quietly.

"He doesn’t," Lucas replied a little too fast.

Arion’s gaze narrowed, not in challenge, but in calculation. "You answered like a man who hopes that is true, not like one who has had it confird."

Silence pressed in.

"There are variations," Arion continued. "Generational echoes. You are one, as your grandfather was one."

"He is not a siren. We are sure of that, and you are an asshole for pressing the matter just to get a reaction out of us," Lucas shot back, leaning against the doorfra, arms crossed. "You’re hoping we’ll get distracted by the fact that Alamina knows and lower our guard. You’re trying to remind us that you see more and know more so you can control the tempo of this conversation."

Arion’s lips curved faintly. "I don’t need you distracted. I need you to be realistic."

"And you think fear makes people realistic?"

"I think truth does," Arion replied calmly. "Even when it is inconvenient. Especially then."

Lucas exhaled through his nose. "My son is not a prophecy, not a weapon, and not a biological anomaly waiting to be claid by so ancient pattern. He is a person. And you don’t get to circle him like a problem you’re uniquely qualified to solve."

"I circle threats," Arion said simply. "And vulnerabilities. And things the world will try to exploit."

"And you’ve decided he is all three."

"Yes."

The word landed without hesitation.

"That’s your red line," Lucas said quietly. "You stop seeing where your protection ends and your possession begins."

Arion t his eyes, unblinking. "To , there is no clean border between the two. Not where mates are concerned and certainly not where the survival of an empire is bound by a single bond."

Lucas straightened. "This conversation ends here. We will continue it when Trevor is back. When I am not the only one standing between my son and a man who is already rearranging the world around him in his head."

Arion inclined his head slightly. "Very well."

But his gaze drifted, unbidden, to the closed door beyond which Dean stood.

And for a fraction of a second, all calculation vanished, replaced by sothing raw, focused, and overwhelmingly dangerous in its devotion.