CHAPTER 467: CHAPTER 467: PANIC

Dean reacted on pure instinct the moment Arion stepped off the railing. His whole posture tightened, shoulders rising, breath catching hard in his chest. It wasn’t subtle and it definitely wasn’t dignified; it was the overwhelmed response that came from an omega who had just realized the diplomatic threat he’d been hiding from had found him anyway.

"What... how..." Dean’s voice cracked, and an extremely unhelpful string of curses slipped out before he could stop them. "Why are you here?!"

Arion looked nothing but amused, almost pleased by Dean’s very real panic. The expression softened his usually controlled features, making him look less like a crown prince and more like a man who had just stumbled across something he genuinely liked.

"I wanted to meet you," he said with a calmness that made Dean feel even more unsteady. "The stairs were a longer route."

Dean stared. "You climbed three floors."

"Yes."

"You climbed the palace."

Arion nodded like it was perfectly reasonable diplomatic behavior.

Then his gaze dropped slightly, taking in Dean’s full height, and something almost warm flickered across his face.

"You’re taller than I expected," he said, the amusement returning. "The photographs didn’t convey that properly. Six foot five?"

Dean choked on his own air. "That’s... why is that relevant...?!"

Before Arion could answer, Sebastian finally returned with the coffees. The moment he stepped outside, he stopped dead, eyes flicking between the railing, Arion’s composed expression, and Dean’s near panic attack.

"Of course," Sebastian muttered. "Of course you found him."

Dean pointed at Arion again, helpless. "He climbed the building, Seb."

"I see that."

Arion inclined his head politely at Sebastian. "It was the most efficient way."

Sebastian closed his eyes like he was trying to will himself unconscious.

Dean, meanwhile, was struggling to stay upright. Arion’s attention had settled on him again, steady and far too focused for comfort.

"You were difficult to locate," Arion said, voice gentle. "But I don’t mind a challenge."

That didn’t help. At all.

Dean felt heat climb into his throat and tried desperately to angle away, as if leaning toward the balcony door might physically save him. Arion didn’t move to follow, but he didn’t look away either.

"I’m very pleased to finally meet you," the prince said, as if this was a calm, polite introduction and not an entire diplomatic predator cornering his intended spouse on a balcony after scaling a building.

Dean muttered another curse, because it was either that or faint.

Arion didn’t seem bothered by Dean’s swearing, the retreat, or the fact that Sebastian was now hovering in the doorway holding two cups of coffee like a man watching a slow-moving diplomatic disaster.

If anything, Arion stood a little straighter, as though preparing for a ceremony.

"Allow me to introduce myself properly," he said, his voice shifting into something formal, smooth, and deeply refined. "I am Arion Caelis Varn Alamina, Crown Prince of the Alaminian Empire, Commander of the First Eastern Legion, Heir-Presumptive to the Council of Thirteen, and representative of the Rite of Binding in inter-empire alliances."

He finished with a slight bow of his head, impeccably respectful, perfectly measured, and absolutely lethal.

Dean gaped at him. "You climbed a building. That’s not a proper introduction. That’s... this is not... people don’t do that."

Arion’s mouth tugged into a small, knowing smirk, the kind that suggested he had been waiting to hear Dean speak like this. "People do," he corrected lightly, "when the situation calls for... initiative."

Sebastian made a noise that was half "please stop talking" and half "I’m too tired for this."

Dean jabbed a finger toward the courtyard below, still trying to collect the tatters of his sanity. "There were stairs. There were guards. There were doors, Arion Caelis Varn, whatever you just said, there were a hundred normal ways to come up here without scaling a palace wall."

Arion’s smirk widened by a fraction, like he couldn’t hide it anymore. "I wouldn’t have needed to climb anything, Dean, if your negotiators hadn’t been delaying every meeting."

Sebastian choked. "Excuse me?"

Arion glanced at him, polite as always. "The Marquis knows exactly what I mean."

Sebastian absolutely did.

Dean’s pulse tripped over itself. "What... what does that mean?"

"It means," Arion said, returning his focus entirely to Dean, "that Marquis Fitzgeralt, Duke Fitzgeralt, Duchess D’Argente, former Emperor Caelan, and your delightful extended circle have been rotating excuses for thirty days. I was beginning to suspect they wanted to keep you here permanently."

Dean swallowed, the heat in his throat blooming hotter. "They weren’t... well... they were just..."

"Protecting you?" Arion offered gently.

Dean froze.

Arion wasn’t teasing now. The smirk softened into something quieter, more honest, something that made Dean’s breath catch.

"I respect that," Arion continued. "I would protect you too."

Dean pressed his back more firmly against the balcony door, like maybe the wood could absorb him. "This still isn’t a normal way to meet someone."

"I know," Arion admitted. "But I wasn’t interested in waiting another week while half of Palatine pretended you were ’not available for introduction.’"

Sebastian stared at his coffee, resigned. "They are going to say this is somehow my fault."

Arion inclined his head. "It is not your fault. But you did stall me for six days."

Sebastian muttered something extremely undiplomatic and took a long drink, clearly wishing for something stronger, not coffee.

Dean, meanwhile, was still staring at Arion with the expression of a man who had absolutely lost control of his own life. "You can’t just climb royal buildings whenever negotiations slow down."

Arion tilted his head, eyes warming with restrained amusement. "Then perhaps the negotiations should move faster."

Dean let out an undignified, strangled sound.

Arion stepped, only half a step, still keeping the respectful distance he promised, but the shift made Dean’s pulse jump anyway.

"Dean," Arion said softly, "this is the first time I have seen you without a screen between us. I am not sorry for it."

Dean forgot how to breathe.

Sebastian whispered under his breath, "Oh gods, this is worse than Dax."