Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

The helicopters set down nearly a kilometer from Claudia’s Palace.

Amaru had refused to place aircraft any closer until the outer grounds were cleared, not because he expected conventional anti-air defenses from a private palace, but because everyone involved had learned what happened when Claudia’s people were allowed to redefine the word conventional.

The ridge rose ahead of them beneath a washed-grey afternoon sky, the palace built into the stone in layers of pale limestone, dark glass, and much newer reinforced structures that disappeared partly underground. From a distance, it might have passed for an extravagant royal estate.

Arion knew better.

Snake Island had looked harmless too.

The moment his boots touched the ground, he wanted the operation finished.

Not because the palace unsettled him.

Because Dean was three countries away, pregnant, furious, and almost certainly considering creative uses for the remaining ducks.

Arion adjusted the fastening of his black field coat and looked toward the ridge.

”Let’s move.”

Nero stepped beside him.

”You’ve been charming since takeoff.”

”I have somewhere better to be.”

”Yes. Your husband wants to kill you.”

”My pregnant husband wants to kill me.”

”That distinction does make it more urgent.”

Arion gave him a look.

Nero smiled and moved ahead.

Amaru joined them from the second aircraft with six Draxil soldiers at his back, while another twenty spread through the surrounding tree line. Hendrik and Hale remained slightly behind the front group, both already checking live feeds from the drones above the estate.

Victor came last.

He wore a dark weatherproof coat over civilian clothes and carried a compact medical case rather than a weapon.

Arion glanced toward him.

”Stay behind the security line.”

Victor looked insulted.

”I am aware I am not infantry.”

Nero glanced back.

”That has not stopped physicians before.”

”It will stop this one.”

They reached the outer approach ten minutes later.

The road narrowed between two stone walls before opening toward the first security gate, where ornamental trees had grown thick enough to hide cameras and recessed sensor housings beneath the branches.

Nero stopped.

Everyone else stopped with him.

He closed his eyes.

His pheromones spread outward carefully, so controlled that Arion felt them more as a change in pressure than scent. Nero did not flood the area. He probed it, sliding the field through stone, beneath vegetation, around the gate structure, and across the first section of the courtyard.

It was the same technique they had used on Snake Island after discovering synthetic distortions built into the environment.

Arion waited.

Nero opened his eyes.

”Nothing active.”

Hendrik checked his tablet.

”No movement from the exterior systems either.”

Amaru looked toward the gate.

”That doesn’t mean there are no traps.”

”No,” Nero said. ”It means nothing is currently pretending the ground is somewhere else.”

Arion studied the approach.

”That would be a strange courtesy.”

Amaru’s mouth curved without humor.

”My brothers are inside.”

Hendrik looked up.

That made immediate sense.

Claudia’s systems had never been designed around protecting ordinary soldiers from their own defenses. If the remaining Draxil claimants had retreated into the palace with loyal personnel, activating indiscriminate pheromonal traps could easily kill or disable their own side.

Nero tested farther.

”There are inactive structures everywhere.”

Hendrik moved closer.

”What kind?”

”Pressure-linked pheromone releases near the western path. Something beneath the central paving that feels synthetic but dormant. Two directional fields inside the gatehouse.”

Hale’s expression tightened.

”So the traps are present.”

”They’re sleeping.”

Amaru looked toward the palace.

”Because my brothers still expect to leave.”

Nero smiled.

”That’s optimistic.”

Hendrik closed his tablet.

”Hale.”

The older Sahan guard looked toward him.

”We take the exterior systems. Mark, isolate and disable everything before anyone brings vehicles or medical teams closer.”

Hale nodded once.

Arion glanced between them.

”You’re staying outside?”

”Until the approach is clean,” Hendrik said. ”You don’t need me stepping on something behind you because Nero declared it boring.”

Nero looked offended.

”I never said boring.”

”You nudged an infected beast with your boot.”

”That was scientific curiosity.”

Hale walked past them.

”No one believes that.”

For the first time since leaving Alamina, Arion almost laughed.

Then the palace gates opened from the inside.

Every weapon around them lifted.

Arion’s pheromones sharpened on instinct.

Three men emerged first, hands visible, followed by another five in Draxil military uniforms without helmets or rifles.

Amaru went completely still.

The officer in front looked directly at him.

Then he dropped to one knee.

The others followed.

Nero slowly turned his head toward Amaru.

Amaru stared.

The officer spoke loudly enough to carry across the approach.

”Prince Amaru. The eastern battalion recognizes your command.”

Silence held for perhaps two seconds.

Then Nero laughed.

Amaru did too.

The sound came out sharp and incredulous, the kind of laugh produced when months of political maneuvering ended with someone opening the enemy gate for you.

Arion did not share their enthusiasm.

He stepped forward.

”Where are the current commanders?”

The kneeling officer looked toward him, recognized him immediately, and straightened slightly.

”Inside the central residence. The princes withdrew there this morning.”

Amaru’s amusement vanished.

”How many troops remain loyal to them?”

”Less than forty.”

”And the rest?”

The officer looked back toward the open gate.

”They are waiting to surrender command.”

Nero grinned.

”They didn’t even make us invade properly.”

Amaru looked at him.

”I’m beginning to like today.”

Arion was not.

Every minute here was another minute Dean had to imagine what was happening.

He wanted Claudia’s records, the laboratories secured, Amaru’s succession problem handled, and his aircraft pointed back toward Alamina before nightfall if physically possible.

”Then stop enjoying it and move.”

Nero looked at him.

”You really are in a bad mood.”

”My mate is pregnant, angry, and currently unsupervised with forty-three miniature ducks.”

Amaru stared at him.

Nero nodded gravely.

”It’s serious.”

Arion ignored both of them.

Behind the defecting soldiers, more men and women began emerging from the gate, weapons placed deliberately on the stone before they crossed into the open. Some removed insignia associated with Amaru’s brothers before joining the growing group under eastern battalion command.

The palace was surrendering around its leaders.

That did not make it safe.

Hendrik and Hale separated toward the western perimeter with two specialist teams, following Nero’s marked trap locations while technicians began mapping every dormant system.

Arion moved through the open gate beside Amaru and Nero.

Victor followed several meters behind them with four soldiers assigned specifically to keep him there.

He noticed.

”I do not require four guards.”

Arion kept walking.

”You’re a medic.”

”I am also capable of walking.”

”That was never the concern.”

Ahead, the central doors of Claudia’s Palace stood open beneath a broad stone portico.

Amaru’s expression changed as he looked at them.

Arion adjusted his gloves and stepped toward the entrance.

”Let’s finish this.”