Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 441: Killian Has a Week (2)

A week later, Killian stood in the imperial garden as if he had personally approved the landscaping. The lawns were too perfect, the hedges trimmed into elegant cruelty, and the fountains too quiet, as if even the water had been trained not to make a scene.

Spring arrived quickly in Alamina, almost as if there had never been any snow.

In front of him, two young princes of the imperial family and an enormous dog were waging war over a ball.

Killian had met Empress Minerva minutes ago. She’d been warm, efficient, and tired in the same way Christopher was tired - competent exhaustion, held together by posture and duty. She’d returned to her work quickly because there was no such thing as ’taking a break’ when your mate was in the field hunting infected beasts that refused to die politely.

But she had given Killian one gift before leaving.

"Dax’s and Otto’s teams will return in a few hours," she’d said, calm as if that was a normal sentence. "Other teams are already coming in."

Killian had thanked her with appropriate respect and immediately filed the information under ’things that will make Christopher breathe again.’

Now he waited in the garden, because waiting in a palace was still waiting, and at least here the children were loud enough to remind the air that not everything in Alamina was built for war.

Arion - the eldest son of Otto, born after a line of sisters from the late empress - was currently the center of every quiet calculation in the imperial household. The family didn’t treat sons and daughters differently, but nature had placed a particular weight on Arion anyway: he was the only dominant alpha child in the line.

Which meant the title of Crown Prince would land on him soon, handed over with ceremony and inevitability.

Arion, however, looked like an eight-year-old boy who had decided the most urgent matter in his empire was retrieving a ball from a man who didn’t bend for many.

Beside him, Gregoriana, Minerva and Otto’s first child, was a flushed, bright-eyed five-year-old with a too-fast laugh and the kind of legs that never stopped moving. She was chasing a malamute puppy that the children had named Boreas, because, of course, they had. The puppy was a cloud of fur and teeth and ambition, and it had already learned that palace children were easy targets.

Killian watched it all with the serene expression of a man observing a small riot.

The ball rolled to a stop directly at his polished shoe.

Arion halted in front of him, wide brown eyes fixed on the ball like it was a matter of state. He didn’t ask politely.

He simply held out his hands.

Killian looked down at the child.

Then at the ball.

Then back at the child.

Hale, standing a step behind him, arms crossed, looking like he’d rather be in a briefing room, sighed through his nose as if he could already predict the nonsense.

Arion’s gaze sharpened. "Give it back."

Killian’s mouth twitched. "That wasn’t a request."

"It was," Arion said, very seriously. "A royal one."

Gregoriana skidded to a stop beside him, cheeks pink, hair slightly wild. "It’s ours!"

Boreas launched himself at her leg, missed, and bit the grass instead.

Killian considered them for a beat, expression unreadable.

Then, because he had a reputation and standards and an innate dislike of losing to children, he moved.

He didn’t bend down and pick the ball up like a normal adult.

He flicked his foot under it and popped it up cleanly, catching it on the top of his shoe with perfect balance, like it had been trained.

Arion’s eyes widened.

Gregoriana let out a small gasp of pure delight.

Hale made a sound that was definitely a scoff, though he disguised it by clearing his throat.

Killian rolled the ball along his foot, tapped it once, twice, and then lifted it higher with a single kick and caught it on the outside of his ankle as if physics had signed a contract with him.

The ball never touched the ground.

Arion stared like he’d just witnessed a magic trick.

Gregoriana bounced on her toes. "Again!"

Boreas barked, offended that he wasn’t the star of the performance.

Killian lifted his brows slightly, as if acknowledging that yes, he was talented, and yes, the children were correct to be impressed.

Then he sent the ball in a smooth arc toward Arion.

Arion caught it against his chest, staggered one step, then stood straighter like he’d just caught a crown.

Gregoriana clapped furiously.

Hale’s scoff deepened. "You’re showing off."

Killian finally glanced back at him. "No."

Hale narrowed his eyes. "That’s exactly what you’re doing."

Killian’s expression remained calm. "I’m investing in public opinion."

Hale stared. "They’re children."

"Children become adults," Killian replied, and turned back to the garden without another word.

Gregoriana laughed and sprinted off again, Boreas chasing her like a fluffy missile. Arion held the ball for a second longer, as if deciding whether to demand another performance, then threw it toward the puppy instead.

The ball rolled.

Boreas chased.

Chaos resumed.

Killian let his gaze drift beyond the lawns, toward the far end of the garden where the palace grounds opened toward the inner gate.

Movement caught his attention.

A team has returned.

They emerged through the stone archway in a loose line, gear dusty, uniforms marked, steps heavy in that particular way people walked after hours of adrenaline had finally drained. Their masks were off now, hanging at their throats, faces streaked with sweat and grime. Some had blood on their sleeve, which was too dark to be fresh.

The sight drew the garden’s energy taut.

A few attendants straightened. Guards shifted.

Arion stopped running.

Gregoriana also paused - mid-laugh, mid-breath - as if her body recognized something before her mind.

Then her eyes locked on the returning line, and her entire face changed.

Bright delight, sharpened into recognition.

"Uncle!" she screamed.

And then she ran, a five-year-old girl who didn’t care about protocol when her world came back alive.

Minerva’s daughter flew across the grass with Boreas barking behind her, ears flopping, determined to participate.

Killian stepped forward instantly, not to stop her, but to be ready if anyone else tried.

Because returning teams were unpredictable. Because exhaustion made people slow. Because a child in the path of armored legs was a disaster waiting to happen.

Gregoriana didn’t slow.

She reached the line and launched herself toward one of the men near the middle - tall, dark-haired, mask hanging loose, eyes tired but warm. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

The man startled, then caught her automatically, arms wrapping around her small body with the reflex of someone who’d held her before and had been counting the days.

"Princess," he breathed, his voice rough.

Gregoriana pressed her face into his shoulder like she was trying to climb inside his ribs. "Uncle! You’re back!"

The man laughed - low, tired, and real. He held her tighter for a second, then shifted her weight carefully like he was afraid of breaking something precious.

Behind him, another soldier smiled faintly. Someone else murmured a greeting. The team kept moving, but slower now, softened by the fact that a child had just collided with them like joy made physical.

Arion approached more carefully, ball tucked under one arm, watching with the composed interest of a crown prince learning what loyalty looked like when it wasn’t ceremonial.

Boreas arrived last, barking at the returning soldiers as if he intended to inspect them personally.

Gregoriana lifted her head, eyes bright, and demanded, "Did you kill the monsters?"

Her uncle blinked.

Then, because he was an adult who had just returned from the field and now had to answer a child honestly, his expression went briefly blank.

Killian, watching from a few steps away, allowed himself one faint, private thought:

’Christopher would love her.’

And then, because he couldn’t resist, he murmured to Hale under his breath, "That one will be terrifying."

Hale watched the little princess cling to her uncle and said, dryly, "She already is."

Killian’s mouth twitched again.

In a few hours, Dax and Otto would return too.