Chapter 398: Chapter 398: Enigma

“Nero had Dax as a father,” Chris said, almost unimpressed. “The child is practically a clone of him.”

Dax’s eyes flicked to Chris like he didn’t appreciate the word ’clone’ anywhere near his son. Then his gaze dropped back to Nero, and the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease.

Nadia made a sound that was neither a sigh nor a judgement. It was the sound of a woman about to say something that could make a king dangerous.

“He is not a clone,” she said flatly. “And this is not standard inherited dominance.”

Chris’s mouth tightened. “So what is it?”

Nadia held the folder up slightly, turning it so both of them could see the circled line again.

“The physicians are suspecting,” Nadia said carefully, “that Prince Nero may be an enigma.”

Silence hit like a door closing.

Chris blinked once. “An… enigma?” He tried to process this as seriously as possible. “I mean… He is a child; what mystery could there be?”

Dax laughed warmly, almost boyish in a way Chris rarely got to see. Like for one second the King of Saha wasn’t a weapon and was just… a man standing at a bedside with a sleeping newborn and the most impossible person in his life looking at him with genuine confusion.

Chris narrowed his eyes immediately. “Don’t.”

Dax’s shoulders shook once more, and then he reined it in, breath steadying. But when he looked down at Nero again, his purple eyes were shining with pride.

“He is ours,” Dax murmured, voice low. Then his gaze lifted to Chris, and the old, familiar devotion threaded through it. “And you are my moon.”

Chris froze for half a second, as if the pet name still had the power to catch him off guard no matter how many times Dax used it.

He recovered immediately, because that was what Chris did.

“Don’t distract me with romantic nonsense,” he muttered, but his voice had softened at the edges.

Dax’s mouth curved faintly. “It’s not nonsense. It’s fact.”

His eyes dropped back to Nero, and the pride returned.

“We are both dominants,” Dax added. “He comes from power on both sides.”

Chris’s gaze narrowed. “You’re saying that like the court is going to start worshipping him.”

“They will try,” Dax said calmly, like he’d already accepted that reality and already planned the counterattack. “And they will fail.”

Nero sighed in his sleep, a tiny sound of offended peace.

Chris stared at the baby for a long beat, then muttered, “If anyone calls him a prophecy, I’m biting them.”

Dax’s eyes flicked up, amused. “That’s my moon.”

Nadia, from the foot of the bed, made a sound that was pure impatience. “Touching. Truly. Now, if you two are done being unbearable, I’d like to keep your dominant heir from accidentally flattening half the nursery staff with pheromones.”

Chris shot her a glare. “He’s a week old.”

“And already dramatic,” Nadia replied, flipping her folder. “Like his parents.”

Dax looked down at Nero Ezekiel Altera, and the pride in his eyes didn’t dim at all. “His output will settle,” he said, quieter, as if he didn’t want the baby’s body to hear him talking about it like a problem. “Newborn pheromones spike and wobble. In a few days it should dim to almost nothing. Then it returns properly when he manifests.”

Chris made a sound that was half scoff, half wince as he tried to shift, and the movement tugged at his stitches. “So ’enigma’ is just a tag?” he asked, voice tightening around pain and irritation. “Trevor and Lucas are dominants too, and I didn’t hear anything about their sons.”

Nadia’s eyes flicked to Chris’s movement. “Stop moving like you’re indestructible.”

Chris glared. “I’m not moving. I’m negotiating.”

“Negotiate with your mouth,” Nadia shot back.

Dax didn’t look up from Nero, but his voice turned mildly amused. “Enigma isn’t a fashionable label anymore,” he said. “It’s mostly used when physicians don’t like what the numbers imply and don’t know what box to put it in.”

Chris’s brows rose. “So, yes.”

Dax’s mouth twitched. “So, yes.”

Nadia interjected, precise. “It’s not a ’tag.’

It’s a shorthand for a high-expression dominance profile with atypical effects.”

Chris’s gaze cut to Dax. “Atypical effects meaning…”

Dax shrugged one shoulder, like the admission was casual when it was anything but. “Meaning my pheromones can influence dominant alphas too. Most dominants can’t. Trevor and Marianne can’t.”

Chris stared, unimpressed, in the way only someone who lived with Dax could be. “You say that like it’s a fun fact.”

“It’s not,” Nadia said sharply.

Dax’s eyes lifted briefly to her, calm and unbothered. “It’s a fact… and fun for me.”

Chris’s expression tightened. “And Trevor and Lucas?”

Dax looked back down at Nero, and the pride softened into something thoughtful. “Trevor and Lucas chose not to do the full labs. They let their sons manifest without interference. It’s… their style.”

Chris’s mouth twitched. “Their style is chaos with pretty furniture.”

Nadia nodded once, as if that was clinically accurate. “Yes.”

Chris drew a slow breath, then looked down at Nero again. The baby’s face was still scrunched in sleeping offense, as if existence had personally inconvenienced him. Chris felt something in his chest tighten, protective and irrational.

“Palatine gives time to their dominants until they reach manifestation age,” Chris murmured, half to himself.

Dax shifted Nero so the baby slept against the wall of his chest, tucked into the space where Dax’s heartbeat was loudest. It made Nero look even smaller, swallowed by muscle and warmth.

Dax’s gaze lifted to Nadia. His voice went flat with authority. “Inform the physicians: the classification goes to the Registry. Dominant alpha can be made public if required. Anything beyond that stays medical and stays sealed.”

Nadia’s expression didn’t change. But there was a flicker of approval. “Understood.”

“There is no need for the people to know about this,” Dax continued, as if speaking the words made them law. “They lived well enough without knowing about me.”

Chris tilted his head. His brows furrowed, remembering a half-heard line from one of his late-night Cold Case marathons while pregnant, someone on a documentary whispered about ’enigmas’ like they were folklore that wore crowns.

“But…” Chris said slowly, carefully, “enigmas don’t need an omega, do they? How come you do?”

Nadia looked like she wanted to interrupt, then decided she was curious enough to let Chris dig his own hole.

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