Nero disliked the look on his mother's face.
He disliked it more because Chris was trying to hide it.
That was never a good sign. Chris's anger was familiar and manageable. Chris being furious enough to reorganize a room by tone alone was almost comforting, because at least then the danger had direction.
But Chris silent, one hand resting on the edge of Nero's bed while his eyes moved over the transcript Thomas had sent up from the sealed section below the palace?
That was worse.
Dax stood behind him, reading the same projection.
Hale remained near the door, arms folded, expression grimly satisfied because Nero had been returned to bed, reattached to monitors, and medically cornered by everyone with authority over his continued survival.
Nero leaned against the raised pillows and looked at the transcript again.
Claudia's Palace.
Dominant omegas were saints.
Dominant alphas were useful for fighting and fucking.
True ones. Pure ones.
