"Go to hell."
The words slipped out before Christopher even realized he'd said them. They were quiet, but the words made the room feel smaller, the air sharper.
Dax froze. For the first time since stepping into the suite, he looked less like a king and more like a man trying to understand how everything had gone wrong in a single heartbeat.
"What did you say?" His voice was low, measured and so calm that even Chris thought, for a moment, that he might take the words back.
Christopher's lips twisted, a bitter, tired smile forming at the edge of his mouth. "You heard me."
The silence between them cracked like glass. The chandelier above them flickered once, the amber light cutting through the haze of pheromones that still lingered thick in the air.
"I said," Christopher repeated, his voice rising, trembling with rage and exhaustion all at once, "go to hell. You, your kingdom, your people, and everything you think you're saving."
