Christopher's breath caught in his throat.
For a heartbeat, the noise of the hall, the music, the laughter, and the clink of crystal faded into a low, distant hum. His jaw tightened, but he forced himself not to flinch, not to let anything more than a single slow blink betray him.
'He knows. How the fuck?!'
He had been careful, painfully careful. He had buried every trace of what he was, hidden it so deep that not even his own family had ever guessed. To them, he was just Christopher, jobless between contracts, a freelancer doing odd work to make ends meet. But under Dax's violet gaze, sharp and unrelenting, it felt like the years of secrecy crumbled to dust in an instant.
He found out what he was at eighteen, but fortunately for him, the doctor that read his chart said it was a mistake from the lab, and everyone believed it; only Christopher did the labs again, carefully, and each lab was split so that nobody would realize what he was trying to find out.
