CHAPTER 217: CHAPTER 217: FAMILY

Chris woke to sunlight and the faint hum of palace engines warming somewhere far below. For one peaceful second, he forgot about the Maleks, the training, the binder, and the fact that his mate was seven-foot-three and currently glaring at a shower because he wasn’t allowed to touch him.

It was almost peaceful.

Then Killian knocked politely and was waiting for answer, something was wrong.

Chris groaned and dragged himself out of bed, throwing on a soft shirt and pajama pants as he shuffled to the door. Killian stood there looking very... resigned.

"Consort," he said in that calm, perfectly neutral tone that usually preceded emotional mayhem. "Your siblings have arrived."

Chris blinked. "Andrew and Mia?"

"Yes. His Majesty’s jet retrieved them this morning."

Chris rubbed his face, remnants of sleep still clinging to him. "Dax sent his jet? For my siblings?"

"Yes," Killian said. "He considers it a diplomatic priority. Also..." he paused, glancing down the hall, "they insisted on surprising you."

’Oh no.’

That was the only warning Chris got before something small and furious launched at him from halfway down the corridor.

"CHRIS!"

Mia slammed into him at high speed, arms flung around his torso like she intended to tackle him to the floor. Chris stumbled back, laughing despite himself. She smelled like airport food, travel stress, and the same shampoo she’d used since she was twelve.

"Oh my god, you’re alive," she said, squeezing him tight. "You didn’t die. You didn’t get kidnapped. You didn’t get sold to a cult. I had a whole list."

Chris choked. "I’ve been kidnapped by Dax, technically. Why am I always dying in your hypothetical scenarios?"

Mia pulled back just enough to smack his arm. "Because you’re you," she said, like it was obvious. "You attract disasters. You’re like a crisis magnet with nice hair."

Chris opened his mouth to argue, then promptly shut it. "Okay, rude. And also slightly true."

Before he could gather himself, Andrew reached them at a far more reasonable pace, although the tightness around his eyes gave away that he’d been worried the whole flight. He looked older, more tired, but calmer too, like someone who’d finally had a good night of sleep for the first time in months. Probably because Dax sent a private jet instead of making them suffer through commercial flights. Even if they had flown first class or whatever absurdity nobles invented, they would have been in the air for at least twenty hours; with the private jet Dax, the time was almost reduced in half.

"Hey," Andrew said, and that one soft word hit Chris harder than Mia’s tackle.

Chris stepped forward and hugged him, slower and quieter than the way Mia had collided with him. Andrew’s arms wrapped around him tightly, as if confirming Chris was solid, breathing, and real. Chris heard him exhale against his shoulder, a long, relieved breath that came from somewhere deep.

"You okay?" Andrew asked.

Chris nodded against him. "I’m here."

"Good," Andrew murmured, pulling back just enough to look at him properly. "I needed to see that for myself."

Chris swallowed hard. "I should be asking you that. Both of you."

"Please," Mia said, tossing her hair dramatically. "I’m thriving. I met a duchess at the airport and she liked my jacket."

Andrew gave her a look. "She was complimenting your behavior after you nearly ran past security."

"That’s still a compliment," Mia insisted.

Killian cleared his throat. "If I may... His Majesty asked that you inform him when you’re ready for breakfast. He’s waiting in the dining room."

Mia’s eyebrows shot up. "The king is waiting? For us?" She whipped back to Chris with a scandalized whisper. "Your boyfriend is intense."

Chris covered his face with both hands. "He hears everything in this palace. Please never call him that again."

Andrew gave Chris’s shoulder a squeeze. "He took care of us the entire trip. Arranged the jet, the cars, and the escorts. Nobody even looked at us wrong. I think he was worried."

"He’s not my boyfriend tho... Legally i’m his spouse." Chris threw that into the room and made his way to the dining room.

Mia froze mid-step. "I’m sorry... WHAT?"

Andrew blinked once, like he needed a reboot. "Legally... spouse?"

Chris kept walking, refusing to turn around as he muttered, "It was a whole thing. Long story. Breakfast first."

Mia scrambled to catch up, her voice bouncing down the hallway. "You don’t get to drop legally his spouse like we’re discussing laundry! Christopher!"

Killian, now walking behind them, looked like he was actively trying not to laugh.

Andrew hurried forward, eyes narrowed in big-brother interrogation mode. "Chris. Explain."

"Later," Chris said quickly. "Preferably after caffeine. And several pastries. And maybe sedation."

Mia made a strangled noise. "YOU GOT MARRIED."

"It was a form with a box to check and signature," Chris corrected, lifting a hand to wave vaguely at the air. "Technically a diplomatic emergency measure. Also very complicated. Very palace-y. Very we’ll talk after food."

Mia let out a sound that could only be described as a squeal filtered through disbelief and sheer teenage outrage. "A form? A signature? CHRIS, THAT IS MARRIAGE IN BUREAUCRAT LANGUAGE."

"Which is exactly why we are not talking about it right now," Chris said, turning a corner like a man fleeing a crime scene.

Andrew stayed close behind, calmer but clearly processing every syllable. "So you’re telling me we got off the plane, stepped into a royal motorcade, were escorted through a palace with enough security to fight a small war... and you’re casually married to a foreign king?"

Chris groaned. "Please don’t say it like that. It makes me sound delusional."

"It makes you sound busy," Mia shot back, practically jogging to keep up. "What happened? Did you fall on a marriage license? Did Dax trick you? Did you sign something while half-dead?"

"Honestly," Chris sighed, "that last one is uncomfortably close to the truth."

Killian lifted a polite eyebrow. "Consort, you were fully conscious when you signed the document."

"I was emotionally compromised!" Chris argued.

"You were drinking coffee," Killian corrected.

Mia gasped. "You got married while drinking coffee?"

"Oh my god," Chris muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Why is this conversation happening before food?"

They crossed another hallway lined with tall windows and gold-trimmed walls. Dax’s palace had the nerve to be beautiful, which did not help Chris feel any less judged by it.

Mia’s voice dropped to a whisper of pure scandal. "Wait... if he’s your spouse... does that make us his in-laws?"

Killian paused in perfect, diplomatic horror.

Chris nearly tripped over his own feet. "Don’t you dare say that where he can hear it."

Mia beamed. "I’m absolutely saying it where he can hear it."

Andrew cut in quickly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder before she could sprint ahead. "Later. Let Chris breathe. He hasn’t eaten. He might faint and Dax will start a war."

Chris nodded firmly. "Thank you. Someone gets it."

Andrew shrugged. "I’m not getting yelled at by a seven-foot king before breakfast."

Killian actually made a small approving sound.

They reached the last turn. The dining room doors stood open, warm light spilling into the corridor. Chris felt his stomach twist from knowing exactly what waited inside.

Dax.

Probably sitting there with perfect posture, pretending to be composed while absolutely listening to every word they’d just said.

Andrew nudged him gently. "Ready?"

"No," Chris said, exhaling in defeat. "Let’s go."

They stepped inside.