CHAPTER 225: CHAPTER 225: DEMANDING ANSWERS (WIN-WIN)

Dax stood there, breathing in slowly, eyes on Chris like he’d found the single most interesting phenomenon in the known universe.

"That," he said softly, "is not all."

Chris backed up a single step. Dax immediately followed it, not touching him, but matching his retreat with a smooth, predatory glide that made the back of Chris’s neck heat.

"Dax," Chris warned.

"Yes?" the king asked, voice all silk and sin.

"We’re not doing... whatever you’re planning."

"I’m not planning anything unreasonable," Dax lied, beautifully. "I simply want data."

"Data," Chris repeated flatly.

"Yes." Dax took another step. Chris took another back.

"Dax, we are not running experiments."

"You are reacting to my scent for the first time," Dax murmured, advancing again. "I want you to distinguish the layers."

"There are no layers," Chris insisted, backing up so fast he nearly tripped on the carpet. "It’s just rum!"

"It’s not just rum."

Chris found the edge of the table behind him and slapped a hand down on it to keep himself steady. "I’m serious, Dax, stop being weird about this."

"I’m not being weird," Dax said, and he absolutely was. "I simply want you to tell me what changed between the first inhale... and the second."

Chris blinked. "What?"

"Your pulse jumped on the second breath," Dax said, eyes flicking to Chris’s throat like he could see it hammering. "So something changed. What was it?"

"Nothing changed," Chris tried.

Another step. Chris’s back hit the table.

"Christopher," Dax murmured, leaning in just slightly. "You are smelling me properly for the first time. I want to know how far it reaches."

Chris’s whole soul tried to eject itself from his body. "Dax!"

"And," Dax added, voice dropping like warm honey over steel, "I want to see what happens when your body finally does what it’s meant to do."

Chris stared, horrified. "Meant to do? What does that even... oh my god. Dax. No."

Dax didn’t stop. He braced one hand on the table beside Chris, caging him without touching, scent warming the air with slow intent.

"I want to see you in heat," he said simply.

Chris slapped a hand over his own face. "We are NOT having this conversation."

"We are absolutely having this conversation."

Dax lowered his head closer, inhaling lightly near Chris’s cheek. "You smelling me properly changes everything."

"It does not change everything!"

"It changes enough," Dax said, sounding disturbingly satisfied. "Before tonight, your body never responded to me. Now it does."

"Dax, my body reacted to you before; I just didn’t tell you." Chris blurted out without thinking.

Dax froze.

Not physically, he still had Chris boxed in with one hand braced against the table and the other hanging loose at his side, but something in him went very, very still. His eyes lifted slowly, the calm in them turning sharp, focused, and hungry in a way that made Chris instantly regret speaking.

"...Explain," Dax said, voice low and threaded with something dangerous and fascinated at once.

Chris swallowed. "No."

"Christopher."

"Nope. I changed my mind. I’m taking it back."

"You can’t take it back," Dax murmured. "You said it. Now explain."

Chris slapped a hand over his own mouth like that could stop further betrayal. "It’s not important."

Dax leaned in an inch, still not touching, just letting that warm, spiced-rum scent brush over Chris’s skin again. "It is extremely important."

Chris groaned, sliding down the table edge a little. "Dax, please... just forget it."

Dax exhaled once, long and slow, like a man trying very hard not to pin someone to a surface. "Christopher. When, exactly, did your body react to me?"

Chris hesitated, then mumbled into his hand, "When you were in Rohan."

Dax blinked. "...When I was gone?"

Chris nodded miserably.

"And what, precisely," Dax said slowly, "caused this reaction while I was not present?"

Chris wished the floor would swallow him whole. "One of your shirts."

Silence.

Not peaceful silence, but more like the silence of a battlefield just before someone raises a flag and all hell breaks loose.

Then Dax said, very softly, "Which shirt?"

"The... the black one. The fitted one you wore the morning you left. The one I told you to pack and you didn’t pack and you left it in the wardrobe and..." Chris cut himself off, mortified. "Forget it."

"Christopher," Dax said again, but this time reverent. Hungry. "You reacted to my scent then."

"It was... embarrassing!" Chris snapped. "I shoved it in the laundry and it smelled like you and I didn’t know what was happening and I didn’t want to talk about it and... and... stop smiling!"

"I am not smiling," Dax lied. He absolutely was.

Chris tried to slide sideways around him, but Dax moved with him, trapping him again without touching.

"My little moon, answer me this one too," Dax murmured, studying him like a newly discovered treasure, "did you touch yourself because of me?"

Chris made a sound so strangled, so mortified, so spiritually offended that Dax actually paused just to savor it.

"No," Chris blurted.

"Yes," Dax countered softly.

"I said no."

"And I said," Dax murmured, "answer me properly."

Chris shut his eyes. "Dax, I swear to every god in your pantheon, there are questions you don’t ask your spouse unless you want divorce papers on your pillow."

Dax smiled like a man who had never feared anything in his life, least of all paperwork.

"Christopher," he coaxed. "Did you touch yourself because of me?"

Chris’s ears burned. His whole face burned. His soul burned.

"...maybe."

"Maybe," Dax repeated, stepping closer, "means yes."

"It means maybe," Chris snapped, trying to shove past him again. "It could mean many things. It could mean no. It could mean..."

"When," Dax asked, gentle and terrifying.

"No."

"When," he repeated, lower.

Chris wanted to die. "A week before our bond."

Dax inhaled sharply.

"And where," Dax asked, voice soft enough to be a caress. "Where were you when you reacted to my scent like that?"

Chris slapped a hand over his face. "No."

"Christopher."

"...the bathroom."

Chris could feel the exact moment Dax put it together: exactly which day, exactly what he had been doing, and exactly where Chris had disappeared to that evening.