Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

Chapter 377: Chapter 377: The Right Bait

Two weeks passed.

Two weeks of beasts breaking from the infected territories in ugly, uneven waves. Two weeks of fire, blood, ash, pheromone strain, sensor alarms, medical rotations, and Andrea Vale behaving beautifully.

That was the problem.

He behaved.

He stood beside Eva. He stabilized her just enough. He remained inside his marked range. He spoke softly, moved carefully, and obeyed Sahan’s monitoring with the humility of a man who wanted everyone to believe access had made him grateful.

Nero hated patient men when they were not him.

By the fourteenth day, burning beasts to ash had lost its charm.

Roslew’s eastern field smoked under a gray afternoon sky. The last wave had broken against the outer barricades and been pushed back, leaving scorched earth, ruined trees, and the sharp chemical stink of infected blood in the air.

Nero stood on Andrea’s left flank, violet eyes fixed ahead, sword still in one hand, the edge dark from beast residue.

No Sebastian.

That, frankly, was poor planning on the universe’s part.

If Nero had to spend two weeks killing monsters and watching Andrea Vale pretend to be a harmless stabilizer, the least Alamina could have done was place someone beautiful on the field for him to stalk from an appropriate and oath-compliant distance.

But no.

Sebastian was elsewhere, safe, distant, and likely being severe at paperwork.

Nero had been left with beasts.

And Andrea.

Cruelty, really.

His comm clicked twice.

Hendrik’s voice came through the private command line. "Left flank, report."

Nero looked at Andrea, who was murmuring something to Eva as her readings corrected by a fraction.

"Bored," Nero said.

A pause.

Then Otto’s voice entered the channel. "That is not a field report."

"It is the most honest report anyone has given you today."

Arion’s voice followed, dry. "Nero."

Nero smiled faintly.

Hale, several meters behind him, said nothing. That meant he disapproved but had decided the situation was already beyond prayer.

Nero lifted his free hand and switched channels with a controlled flick.

Command black.

Otto. Hendrik. Arion. Dean. Thomas. Hale. The flank captains. Medical relay. Drone control.

Not Eva.

Not Andrea.

"Listen carefully," Nero said.

The line went quiet.

That was one of the few pleasures of being himself. People complained about him constantly, but when his voice changed, they listened.

"I am letting two beasts break through to Andrea Vale."

Thomas’s voice came through at once, low and sharp. "Absolutely not."

"How charming. The wall speaks."

"Nero," Arion said, warning threaded under his calm.

Dean’s voice came next. "Define letting."

"Controlled breach. Two mid-range infected, already tracked. No spinal bloom, no acid discharge, no airborne rupture. Ugly, fast, and believable."

Hendrik swore under his breath. "You planned this."

"I became tired of waiting for Andrea to remember he is stupid."

"And if Eva is injured?" Otto asked.

"She will not be. Dean can catch the pressure. Arion can close the center. Thomas can kill anything that reaches the right line. I will burn whatever remains."

Thomas said, "You are assuming I will let beasts near Eva."

"No," Nero replied. "I am assuming you will obey long enough to let Andrea choose."

The silence sharpened.

Nero watched Andrea’s hand hover near Eva’s wrist. Gentle. Supportive. Poisonous.

"He has been using his pheromones on her for two weeks," Nero said. "Not enough to free or break her, just enough to make strain feel normal and relief feel like him."

Dean’s voice went cold. "I know."

"Then you also know he will not reveal himself because we keep giving him honest danger. He is prepared for honest danger. He expects us to watch for a mistake under pressure." Nero’s smile widened. "So we give him the correct bait."

Otto understood first.

"Thomas," Otto said.

Thomas did not answer.

Nero’s eyes moved to the right flank, where Thomas Lancaster stood like a dark wall at Andrea’s far side, his unit steady, his presence intolerably solid.

Andrea’s first problem was not Nero.

Andrea feared Nero, yes. Hated him, certainly. But Nero was too obvious a predator.

Thomas was the wall beside the door Andrea wanted to open.

The man whose existence made Sylvia safe in Rohan. The man who had corrected rumors, broken alliances, and stood on Andrea’s right flank as if daring him to breathe wrong.

Andrea would not strike at Eva first.

Not while being watched.

But if beasts came close enough, if Thomas moved to protect, if chaos offered one clean moment disguised as battlefield necessity...

Then Andrea might show the leash hidden inside his stabilizing field.

Thomas’s voice entered the comm, flat. "Use me."

Dean said, "Thomas."

"I understand the assignment."

Sylvia would murder everyone, Nero thought.

Probably starting with him.

Still, useful women often had inconvenient taste in men.

"Right flank holds until my mark," Nero said. "Do not intercept early. Do not posture. Do not give him fear. Give him opportunity."

Thomas answered, "Understood."

Arion’s voice was quieter. "Dean?"

Dean exhaled once. "Neutralization ready. I can shield Eva if the pheromone disturbance spikes."

"Nero," Hendrik said, "if this goes wrong..."

"It will not."

"That is not reassuring."

"It was not meant to reassure you. It was meant to inform you."

Otto laughed once, low and almost fond. "Proceed."

Hendrik made a sound of deep suffering. "Of course. Why would anyone listen to the man responsible for keeping this continent intact?"

"Because he said proceed," Nero replied.

Then he lifted his sword and signaled drone control.

At the far edge of the broken tree line, two beasts veered through smoke.

A barricade drone shifted half a second late. A fire unit rotated to cover a false movement. The gap opened just enough.

The beasts took it.

Andrea’s head turned, already calculating.

Eva raised her weapon.

"Hold," Andrea murmured to her.

She hesitated.

Nero’s smile vanished.

Dean’s field sharpened across the command map like a blade of cold light.

The beasts came fast, claws tearing mud, infected mouths open, drawn toward the heat of living bodies.

Andrea’s pheromones barely changed.

To the untrained, it would have been nothing. Stabilization under stress. A husband supporting his wife. A permitted field flexion inside active battle.

To Nero, it was a hand sliding under a locked door.

The beasts faltered.

Their heads snapped toward Andrea, then away.

Toward Thomas.

Thomas did not move.

His soldiers held because he had ordered them to hold, though every line of their bodies wanted to fire.

Andrea’s eyes flickered right.

The beasts turned harder toward Thomas’s flank.

Eva whispered, "Andrea?"

Andrea’s field tightened around her, soothing, restraining, keeping her one second too slow.

Nero’s voice cut through the command black, soft and pleased.

"Now."