Dexmon was trapped.
His mother on one side. Agnes on the other, her arm looped possessively through his as if she were staking a public claim. The gesture made his skin crawl.
Every laugh, every lean-in, every deliberate brush of her body felt performative.
Worse, Serena would see this.
He knew she was coming tonight, and the thought of her walking in and misreading this spectacle twisted something sharp in his chest.
He lifted his glass and pretended to sip, eyes already scanning the room for an escape.
Then the herald announced the next arrivals.
"Elara Vaelor and Hale Ironholt."
Elara entered on Hale's arm, posture perfect, playing at poise. Hale looked vaguely uncomfortable but unmistakably proud, escorting her like she was his most prized possession.
Dexmon looked up, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. He had given Hale the pep talk of a lifetime to convince him to ask Elara to accompany him and invite her for drinks beforehand. This meant his pep talk worked.
Hale Ironholt was one of the most battle-worn warriors Drakenfell had ever produced. He had not become Beta by coincidence. He commanded rooms, and there was a sharp strategist behind the muscle.
But when Elara Vaelor was nearby, something always went wrong.
Furniture was damaged. Protocol was ignored. And more often than not, Dexmon ended up with a stepped-on foot or a minor injury.
Queen Bellatrix's voice cut through his thoughts.
"The other one is spreading her legs too."
Princess Agnes giggled loudly.
The sound was light. Pleased. Amused.
Dexmon turned slowly to look at her, surprise cutting through his irritation. He had expected his mother's venom and assumed the rumors were her handiwork alone.
But Agnes's laugh told a different story.
She was enjoying this. Not tolerating or overlooking it.
Enjoying it.
Something cold settled in Dexmon's stomach. He pulled his arm from hers, jaw tightening, and downed the rest of his drink in one go. He had been trying to detach all night without causing a scene, and that sealed it.
Absolutely not. Fuck diplomacy.
"Serena Silverveil and Gavriel Sterling."
Every head swiveled in her direction. Conversations stopped mid-sentence.
The sight stole his breath clean. Her dress wasn't the most revealing in the room, not by far. Yet it felt the most obscene. Crimson silk, Drakenfell's color, molded to her body like it'd been painted on, tracing the lush curve of her breasts, tightening around her nipples, and hugging her ass with every step.
"Fuck me."
The words left his mouth before he could take them back. Heat flooded straight to his groin. His cock swelled hard and fast, pressing painfully against the front of his formal pants.
"Thin. She looks like a twelve-year-old-boy." Bellatrix's voice was just loud enough to reach Dex's ears. He almost laughed.
Then he zeroed in on her arm hooked casually around Gavriel's, and something savage tore through his chest. His knuckles went white around his glass before he realized how tightly he was gripping it.
What was this feeling?
Jealousy?
Possessiveness?
Longing?
Frustration at the fact he couldn't claim what was his or the fact she had no clue?
Mindlinks started pouring in that people were not making private. The ones he'd usually tune out.
She hides that body...
I would let her sit on my face.
Sterling has been following her around like a puppy for two weeks. And I'll be damned.
His shoulders rose once, slow, the way a wolf's hackles do before it lunges. Every muscle in his back locked at the same time.
Aegon: She is ours. Not his. If you had spoken to her, she would be standing with us.
Dexmon: I will not court her while I am publicly tied to Agnes. The optics diminish her.
Aegon: Reject the damn viper princess. Cleanly. Publicly.
Dexmon: I will tonight.
Aegon: Good. And tell her the truth. She cannot feel her wolf and does not know you are fated. She will still have to choose you and fall in love. Silence is its own lie.
Dexmon had not considered that. He had wanted her to choose of her own free will, not because of fate. But her wolf was broken, and she would not feel it either way. Silence did not preserve purity. It only preserved distance.
Honesty was the bare minimum.
Dexmon: I will.
Aegon: Good. Before your gamma marks her.
The glass in Dexmon's hand shattered. An omega took it from his grip and replaced it with a new drink, but he didn't notice.
The room began to move again. Conversation resumed in low waves, laughter creeping back in. Still, most eyes continued to drift toward her. Some lingered openly. Others tried and failed to look away.
Emotions of unease and something else flooded into his chest. He frowned, brows knitting, trying to untangle it.
It dawned on him then that she did not enjoy the attention at all. The hunger made her uncomfortable. But the composure she held never wavered. He'd have believed it if he wasn't getting a live broadcast of what was happening underneath.
Another quiet entry added to the growing list of things he did not yet know about her.
What had he expected? That she basked in it? If it were Agnes, yes, without question. But they could not have been more different.
Aegon: Keep up, Dexmon.
At that moment, Gavriel's arm wrapped around her waist, casually, and his thumb traced a slow circle on her hip. She was listening to something Hale was saying, and didn't even seem to notice.
The replacement glass in Dexmon's hand smashed, whiskey spilling everywhere.
Next to him, Bellatrix muttered something under her breath. The words didn't fully register until the tail end.
"—been moaning her name for two weeks. Little homewrecker."
Dex turned slowly towards her. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. More wine, dear?"
"No."
An unwelcome image flashed in his mind. Serena shoved up against the nearest pillar, crimson silk rucked up around her waist as he drove his cock into her with one desperate thrust, fucking her right there in front of everyone.
Aegon: The Valegrave Alpha just scented her.
Dexmon stiffened, the image vanishing. His eyes narrowed, now clocking every Alpha in the room. Four of them were locked onto her with their nostrils flaring.
Then he realized he was also doing that.
"Fuck."
A deep growl slipped out and it wasn't Aegon.
His heart thudded in his ears and vision narrowed. He knew with certainty that he was about to launch himself across the room and mark her and he didn't care.
He moved at Alpha speed, his legs going on their own and he didn't stop it.
She looked up, green eyes finding his, just now noticing him, stopping him mid-step.
He shook his head once.
Marking her here would be crazy. What the hell was wrong with him?
She smiled warmly. Through their matebond, he felt her emotions shift from unease to curiosity. She wasn't upset or angry that he'd been avoiding her since they kissed two weeks ago. She had not jumped to any sharp conclusions or filled the silence with imagined betrayals.
She was giving him grace he had not earned.
Aegon:Seeking to understand first, not jump to conclusions. You won't be putting out fires with her emotions.
Dexmon swallowed. She was kind and not assumptive in nature. That may be her biggest strength, but also a blindspot. Something he now understood, and could shield her from, even if she didn't see it herself.
Right as he took another step towards her, the princess moved into his path. Without warning, she closed the distance, and pressed her lips against his.
Dexmon froze.
The sheer desperation of the gesture caught him so off guard, he was immobilized, body rigid. Outside of her sucking his dick, they had not kissed or been intimate once.
Gavriel laughed from across the room, and tipped his glass towards the spectacle. "So when do you plan on asking the queen to dance?"
"This does not count," Elara said firmly, her eyes on the kiss unable to look away. "She is marking her territory, but it is not wildly out of line."
"Why the hell is he allowing it?" Hale grumbled.
"Come." Gavriel's hand settled low on Serena's back, fingers splayed just above the curve of her ass. "We need to get you out of her line of sight before she starts humping his leg."
Serena choked on her drink, coughing.
Gavriel glanced down at her entirely too pleased with himself. "I have that effect on most women."
"Wrong pipe," Serena shot back, waving him off as she caught her breath. "Nothing to do with what you said."
"Your face disagrees."
"Walk faster, Sterling, before I decide to spill this on you."
The music swelled as they disappeared into the crowd, but Dexmon's blood roared in his ears. Agnes's tongue attempted entrance.
Dexmon jerked away.
"What the hell are you doing?"