Chapter 257: Co-Mate Pact: No Gavriels Allowed
Thor Crushturn stood at attention in the doorway of Dex’s office like a man receiving a medal he hadn’t earned but fully intended to frame.
"Commander." He held up the rolled periodical with both hands, presenting it the way a squire might present a sword. "Fresh off the press. My source in the eastern market held this copy for me personally. I was told, and I quote, ’Crushturn, you are the only man alive who deserves the first read.’ Her words."
Dex took it. "Her?"
"I protect my sources, Commander. That’s intelligence tradecraft. You’d know that if you read more." Thor paused. "Page nine has a section on Alpha stamina. I was cited as a benchmark. Anonymously, but I know it’s me."
Dex flipped to page nine. There was no such section.
"There’s nothing here about stamina."
Thor leaned forward and squinted. "Hmm. Must be the uncut edition. I’ll get you that one next month. There’s a waitlist, Commander. I’m on it. Twice, actually. Once under my name and once under an alias I invented for security purposes."
There was no uncut edition.
Dex tucked the Knotty Omega into his desk drawer. "Keep this between you and me. Every time a new copy surfaces, I want it."
Thor’s chest expanded so fast it was a medical event.
"Commander." His voice dropped to a whisper that carried across the entire office. "You have my word. Brotherhood. Sealed. I will guard this with my life."
"Your life is unnecessary. A mindlink will do."
"Noted. But the offer stands. I would die for this."
"Please don’t."
Thor snapped off a salute that could have been used in recruitment posters, pivoted on his heel, and marched out of the office with the posture of a man who had just been entrusted with the kingdom’s most classified intelligence operation.
He made it six steps past the threshold before his voice carried back down the corridor.
"MAKE WAY. OFFICIAL BUSINESS. CRUSHTURN ON ASSIGNMENT."
Two cadets pressed themselves against the wall. A handler carrying feed buckets looked up, confused. Styx, who had been dozing at the far end of the dragon field, opened one eye and closed it again. The dragon had made peace with Thor the way one makes peace with weather: by enduring it.
Dex leaned back in his chair.
Aegon: He is going to tell everyone within the hour.
Dex: I know. But he’ll think he’s keeping a secret, and that’s the part that matters.
Aegon: You are manipulating the dumbest wolf in Drakenfell.
Dex: I am delegating to an enthusiastic volunteer.
✦✦✦
Dex stepped out of his office and paused at the ridge.
Below, the juvenile dragon formation was running ground drills. Thornton was calling three-counts. The larger juveniles fumbled through the sequence with the coordination of recruits who resented every second of structure.
Onyx was in the middle of it.
He held position. Executed the count. Stopped when told. Moved when told. Every command was followed by the baby dragon who clearly understood formations and found the entire exercise beneath him.
His gold eyes swept the line of juveniles on either side of him with an expression that said, very clearly, that he had mastered this drill four sessions ago and was now being punished for the sins of dragons who could barely walk in a straight line.
A larger juvenile stumbled out of formation and bumped Onyx’s flank. Onyx looked at the dragon. Then at Thornton. Then back at the dragon. His expression communicated a detailed performance review that the juvenile would have failed.
He returned to position. Held it. Sighed through his nostrils with the defeated patience of a prodigy trapped in a remedial class.
Dex watched for another thirty seconds, then turned to Morholt, who had appeared beside him with a clipboard.
"Pull Onyx out of ground drills."
Morholt looked at him.
"He’s wasting time down there. Put him on aerial prep exclusively. Foam pit for takeoff repetitions. I want his launches clean before he moves to the second pit for glide work. Wings out, full extension, coasting. Get him comfortable carrying his own weight in the air before we ask him to do anything with it. That’s his curriculum now."
Morholt made a note. Then a second note. Then he looked at the field where Onyx was executing a hold so clean it made the dragon twice his size look incompetent by comparison.
"Yes, Commander."
✦✦✦
Fin was at the eastern edge of the field, observing the sparring rotations.
Dex approached. "Shadowclaw. A word?"
Fin turned. Read Dex’s face in under a second. Whatever he found there was enough to change his posture from observation to attention.
"Lead the way."
They walked back towards Dex’s office in silence. The kind of silence that existed between two men who had beaten each other unconscious, shared a mate, and were still figuring out where the walls were supposed to go.
Dex shut the door behind them.
He didn’t sit. Neither did Fin. Both of them standing was a choice, and it was the right one, because what Dex was about to say needed to land between equals.
"I’m pressing charges against Guinevere. My father gave Serena the choice and she declined. I’m overruling. I wanted you to hear it from me before it moves forward, and I want to know where you stand."
Fin’s expression didn’t change, but something behind it recalibrated. The way Dex had framed this, the fact that he’d pulled him aside privately instead of delivering it through official channels, the fact that he’d asked where Fin stood instead of informing him where Fin would stand, all of it carried the cadence of an ally, and both of them registered the difference.
"Serena was given the option to waive them." Fin repeated it like he was testing whether the sentence made more sense the second time. It didn’t.
"Yes. Were you aware?"
"I was not," Fin replied flatly. "I was made aware she was in Drakenfell custody. If she returned to Shadowclaw, I would have pressed charges. Of course Serena waved them."
He exhaled once through his nose. "She drew blood on my mate and assaulted a crowned prince of a foreign kingdom. I’m not choosing between Guinevere and Serena. That implies there was a version of this where I hesitated. There wasn’t."
Dex had expected agreement. He had not expected the agreement to arrive pre-loaded and fully armed.
He nodded. "I should have done the same with Agnes. I was half-dead and she got lucky. That won’t happen twice. Frankly, I was surprised my father let her walk."
The memory sat in his chest like a bruise he kept pressing. Agnes should have faced charges. That call was made before Dex’s memories had fully returned. Before he understood the situation with Viper’s Kiss and Serena. Every day he didn’t correct that mistake, the weight of it compounded. He was correcting it now.
"That makes two of us." Fin folded his arms. "Agnes confessed everything to him, which was either the bravest or the stupidest thing she’s ever done. But Garrett intervened. That’s his prerogative. It wouldn’t have been mine."
The statement sat between them with the weight of a verdict that had already been rendered in a courtroom neither of them had been invited to. Garrett’s mercy had saved Agnes. Serena’s mercy would have saved Guinevere. The difference was that Garrett’s mercy came with a leash, and Serena’s came with no conditions at all, which was exactly the problem.
Dex shifted. "One more thing. My father told Gavriel to check on Serena every day while I was unconscious."
Something passed across Fin’s face, as if that confirmed a suspicion. Brief. But Dex caught it.
"I was not aware Gav was visiting her every day. He didn’t show his face when I was around. But I told Serena her friendship with Gavriel was over. "
Dex’s chin dipped. "I remember you mentioning that, the other night. I didn’t know if the two of you had discussed it again."
"We haven’t. She’s been a wreck for the past week. But she also didn’t mention he visited her to me." Fin’s gaze was steady. "I also assumed it would be irrelevant now that he’s found his fated mate."
"I also told Gav to stay away from her. And I am going to say the same to Serena," Dex added.
"Good we’re on the same page," Fin said. "Serena will be upset about the charges, but I’m backing you on that. But it will be for Gavriel, and that concern has a shelf life now that Guinevere is his problem."
"Agreed."
Fin exhaled then shook his head. "Your father sent Gavriel."
"My father sent Gavriel."
The mutual incredulity was instant and identical. Fin’s expression shifted into something Dex had only seen twice before: the dry, barely-there amusement of a man who had spent his entire adult life commanding armies and navigating councils and still managed to be blindsided by the decisions of older men who should have known better.
"Tiberon is a brilliant strategist," Fin said, his tone carrying the diplomatic precision of a compliment that was also a criticism.
"He is." Dex paused. "Until women are involved. Then he’s an idiot."
Fin’s composure cracked. The laugh that escaped him was short, surprised, and genuine, the kind that only happened when a man heard something he had been thinking but hadn’t expected to hear spoken aloud. His hand came up and covered his mouth for half a second before he caught himself.
It was the laugh of a king who had diplomatic immunity and intended to use it recreationally.
"That’s a direct quote I will be keeping."
"Use it wisely."
"I intend to use it at the worst possible moment."
Dex grinned. The grin of a man who had just armed a foreign king with ammunition against his own father and found the trade acceptable.
The irony of the two of them standing in this office, united against Gavriel Sterling, was thick enough to cut with a blade. Two men who had fought over Serena Frostborne, bled over her, nearly killed each other in her name, were now co-mating her and forming a unified front against the one man who made them both twitchy.
It was a co-existence held together by mutual respect, a shared mate, and the unspoken agreement that if either of them acknowledged how absurd this arrangement was, the whole thing would collapse.
Somewhere in the universe, the gods who designed the matebond were watching this scene and checking their notes, because this was absolutely not how it was supposed to work, and yet here they were.
Separately, they were possessive, stubborn, and certain they were right. Together, they were a wall. And Serena Frostborne was going to hate it.
Aegon: This alliance is the smartest thing you’ve done in months.
Dex: Don’t ruin it.
Aegon: I am complimenting you.
Dex: You are complimenting me because you want to say something worse afterward.
Aegon: Accurate. You married a woman who will light you both on fire when she finds out what you’re doing. And I will watch.
Somewhere in the Draken Forces compound, Thor Crushturn was telling a weapons handler that he had been personally selected for a classified operation by the Commander. The handler did not believe him. Thor did not notice. The operation was going exactly as planned.
