Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

Dean’s gaze drifted toward the windows beyond the sitting area, where the palace gardens had already disappeared into the blue-grey darkness of early evening and the glass reflected the warmer interior instead: the low lamps beside the sofa, the abandoned chocolate mug, Arion holding their son as though Theodore had always belonged in the space against his chest.

”If someone buried it,” Dean said after a moment, ”then I hope they left enough somewhere for us to find, because I would rather not rely entirely on memories passed between people who spent decades turning into forest monsters.”

”That is more or less what Hendrik said.”

”I assume he used fewer forest monsters.”

”Considerably fewer.”

Dean smiled faintly, although his attention remained on Arion, because beneath the amusement he could still see the familiar tension gathering around his husband’s eyes whenever the conversation returned to Dominic, inheritance, and the possibility that Theodore carried something neither of them fully understood.

Arion had become better at hiding it.

Unfortunately for him, Dean had been watching his face for years.

”You’re doing it again.”

Arion glanced toward him. ”Doing what?”

”Thinking that Dominic had no children, you do, and therefore you have somehow committed an offense against Theo by giving him something you didn’t understand.”

Arion’s expression remained still for approximately two seconds.

Dean raised one eyebrow.

”That long pause was practically a confession.”

”I was thinking about the archives.”

”You were thinking about our son.”

Arion looked down.

Theo had released his father’s finger at some point during the conversation and was now resting with his cheek against Arion’s chest, dark hair slightly flattened on one side while the soft grey blanket had slipped low enough to expose one tiny socked foot.

Arion adjusted the blanket automatically.

”Both can be true.”

Dean sighed, set his mug aside, and moved across the sofa until his thigh pressed against Arion’s.

”I know.”

There was no reason to pretend the question did not frighten either of them.

Theodore was healthy, growing properly, and currently far more interested in discovering whether his own fingers could fit into his mouth than in the biological legacy of a sigma emperor who had died almost a century before his birth, but his black eyes existed, and so did Arion’s altered pheromones, the beasts, Elias, and whatever strange mechanism connected all of them.

Ignoring that would have been stupid.

Blaming Arion for it would have been worse.

Dean rested his head against his husband’s shoulder.

”Dominic didn’t have children because he loved a man he couldn’t have children with. That doesn’t mean he made some enlightened decision you failed to make.”

Arion’s mouth curved slightly.

”That is a very inelegant summary of imperial history.”

”It is an accurate one.”

”Possibly.”

”And even if he did know the ability could be inherited, that still doesn’t tell us whether he considered it dangerous to the child or simply dangerous because nobody around him understood it.”

Arion turned his face slightly toward Dean.

”That distinction matters.”

”Exactly.”

Dean reached across and touched Theodore’s hand where it rested against Arion’s shirt.

The baby’s fingers moved faintly in his sleep.

”Besides, Theo has an advantage Dominic never had.”

”Us?”

Dean smiled. ”Obviously us, but I was going to say modern medicine.”

”That was less sentimental than I expected.”

”You married me willingly. You knew what you were getting.”

Arion laughed quietly enough not to disturb the baby.

Dean’s smile widened at the sound.

For a while, neither of them said anything, and the room settled around the three of them with the kind of quiet that had become increasingly rare since Theodore came home, because silence now usually meant one of them was checking whether he was breathing too softly.

Tonight, Dean let it remain peaceful.

Arion leaned back into the sofa, his shoulder relaxing beneath Dean’s cheek as Theodore slept across him, and the faint warmth of vetiver spread through the room without any of the darker metallic undertone that had once made Dean uneasy.

Dean breathed it in.

”You know,” he murmured, ”if Dominic could see this, he might actually be jealous.”

Arion looked toward him.

”Why?”

”Because he had forty years with Adrian, apparently, but no one to tell him when he was being stupid.”

”You assume Adrian didn’t.”

”Fair point. If he survived forty years with a sigma emperor controlling an infected forest, he was probably excellent at it.”

Arion’s smile softened.

Dean turned slightly so he could look at him properly.

”And you have me.”

”I noticed.”

”I am considerably more annoying.”

”I noticed that too.”

Dean nudged his knee.

Arion shifted Theodore securely into one arm and used the other to pull Dean closer until he was half tucked against his side.

Dean allowed it without protest, resting one hand against Arion’s chest just above where Theodore’s head lay.

For a moment, he simply looked at them.

Dark hair against dark hair.

Arion’s large hand spread protectively across their son’s back.

Theo’s tiny fingers curled against the fabric near his father’s collar.

A little over a year ago, Dean had not even been certain when he would want children.

Now the sight in front of him felt so natural that imagining their suite without Theodore seemed strangely incomplete.

Arion lowered his head and kissed Dean’s temple.

Dean closed his eyes.

”You’re happy,” he said.

It was not really a question.

Arion was quiet long enough that Dean opened his eyes again.

His husband was looking at Theo.

”Yes.”

The word carried more weight than Dean expected.

Arion’s thumb moved slowly over the baby’s back.

”This is what I wanted.”

Dean’s expression softened.

”A king of beasts?”

Arion gave him a look.

Dean smiled.

”A mate and a child,” Arion said.

The amusement left Dean’s face completely.

Arion rarely said things like that without humor around them, and the simple honesty of it caught somewhere beneath Dean’s ribs.

He reached up and touched Arion’s jaw.

”Well, you have both.”

Arion turned his face into the touch and kissed the center of Dean’s palm.

Dean leaned closer until their foreheads met carefully above Theodore.

”And if the child eventually starts ordering bears around?”

”We deal with it.”

”If he starts collecting infected soldiers?”

Arion’s mouth twitched.

”We establish reasonable boundaries.”

Dean stared at him.

”That answer was suspiciously specific.”

”I am learning from you.”

”That is terrifying.”

Theo shifted between them, made a small sleepy sound, and opened his eyes just enough for a narrow flash of black to appear before they closed again.

Neither parent reacted with fear.

Dean only smiled.