Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

Dean had, in fact, not seen his bed again until almost two in the morning.

The security meeting that should have lasted an hour had expanded considerably once Otto and Henrik entered the room, carrying enough intelligence reports between them to ruin what remained of Dean’s evening.

Draxil had been the first problem.

Finding its lost prince without alerting either claimant to the throne was complicated enough. Doing it while Draxil continued accusing Saha’s crown prince of interference in its internal affairs was considerably worse.

Saha had responded with increasing hostility.

Or, more accurately, Dax had.

"He wants an excuse," Otto said, looking through the latest diplomatic report. "Draxil has been a nuisance to him for more than twenty years."

"That does not mean he intends to start a war," Arion said.

Henrik looked at him.

Arion amended, "It does not necessarily mean he intends to start a war."

"Better," Dean murmured.

Dax had not openly threatened invasion.

He had merely informed Draxil that another accusation against the Saharian crown prince without evidence would be considered an intentional attack against the royal family, followed by several paragraphs describing what Saha considered an appropriate response to intentional attacks against its royal family.

The wording had been impeccably diplomatic.

The meaning had not.

But Draxil was currently incapable of deciding who possessed enough authority to apologize, which meant the situation remained suspended somewhere between irritating and catastrophic.

Unfortunately, it was not even the most concerning subject on the table.

The beasts had still not appeared.

August had passed, then September, October, and November. December was nearly over, and every monitoring station across Alamina’s borders continued reporting the same thing.

Nothing.

Henrik spread a terrain map across the table.

"I want drones sent deeper into the restricted zones."

Otto frowned. "How deep?"

"As far as their range permits."

"Those areas have never been properly mapped."

"Because anything entering them was attacked."

Dean looked down at the map. Vast sections beyond the established defensive lines remained marked only by old satellite surveys and assumptions made from beast migration patterns.

"And now?" he asked.

"That is what I want to know," Henrik replied. "We have already flown reconnaissance drones beyond the normal perimeter. Nothing attacked them."

Arion’s attention sharpened. "How far?"

"Twenty-seven kilometers yesterday."

That earned silence.

During an ordinary beast season, a drone would have been torn apart long before reaching half that distance.

Henrik tapped one of the marked routes.

"I want to send another group tomorrow. Higher-capacity drones, thermal imaging, and biological sensors. No personnel."

"That I will approve," Otto said.

Dean glanced toward him. "And if they find nothing?"

Henrik’s mouth tightened. "Then we go farther."

Nobody needed to ask what came after the drones.

Eventually, somebody would have to enter.

Otto leaned back. "There is another possibility."

Dean did not like his tone.

"What?"

"The beasts may have stopped coming because they no longer have something drawing them here."

Andrea.

Nobody said the name immediately.

Arion did eventually.

"You think Andrea was the lure."

"I think we have to consider it."

Dean stared at Otto. "For years?"

"Perhaps not consciously."

"That is absurd."

"I said consider it, not accept it."

Henrik folded his arms. "If Claudia altered Andrea’s pheromones to attract infected beasts, we do not know how long the effect existed."

"But we would have noticed," Dean said. "Beast attacks existed before Andrea. Alamina has records going back generations."

"Yes," Arion agreed. "Andrea cannot explain the existence of beast season."

"Not its existence," Otto said. "Its recent behavior."

That was less ridiculous.

Dean disliked that considerably more.

Henrik pointed toward several areas on the map. "The attacks became more concentrated over the last decade. Larger groups, more direct approaches toward populated defensive zones. We assumed the infected population was increasing."

"And perhaps it was following something," Dean said.

"Perhaps."

Arion shook his head. "There are too many assumptions."

"I agree," Otto said. "Which is why we gather information rather than building policy around it."

Dean remained staring at the map.

The idea was far-fetched, entirely speculative, and possibly stupid. Which unfortunately reminded him of another stupid idea.

"What if we give them something else to follow?"

Arion turned his head slowly.

Dean knew that expression.

"No."

"I have not said anything yet."

"You made the face."

"What face?"

"The one you make immediately before proposing something that will shorten my lifespan."

Henrik looked interested.

Otto looked tired.

Dean ignored his husband. "Andrea’s altered pheromones affected the beasts. We know dominant pheromones also provoke stronger reactions from infected animals than ordinary profiles."

Arion’s expression went flat.

"Dean."

"Blood carries pheromone markers."

"No."

Henrik’s brows rose.

Dean continued anyway. "We could test whether dominant blood produces any response."

"No."

"I am not suggesting pouring someone into the forest."

"Your clarification has not improved this."

Otto rubbed his forehead.

Henrik, traitor that he was, asked, "What kind of test?"

Arion looked at him. "Do not encourage him."

"Stored blood first," Dean said. "Dominant alpha and dominant omega samples, separately. Put them inside sealed remote containers and take them into one of the restricted areas with drones."

Arion stared at him.

Dean spread his hands. "What?"

"You began that idea with yourself."

"I did not."

"You absolutely did."

"I said dominant blood."

"You are a dominant omega."

"So are other people."

"That sentence is not reassuring."

Henrik was already considering it. "We could establish several locations. Blood, isolated pheromone samples, and controls."

"Exactly."

"No," Arion repeated.

Dean looked offended. "Why?"

"Because your next suggestion will be that stored samples may not be sufficiently fresh."

Dean remained silent.

Arion’s eyes narrowed.

Otto looked at Dean.

Henrik looked at Dean.

Dean sighed. "I was going to mention that as a possible limitation."

Arion pushed his chair back.

Dean immediately pointed at him. "Do not be dramatic."

"I am considering placing you under protective arrest."

"You cannot arrest your husband because he understands experimental design."

"I can if the experimental design ends with my husband bleeding in beast territory."

"I never said I would go into beast territory."

"Yet."

Dean crossed his arms. "I was going to suggest drawing a small amount here and transporting it remotely."

Arion paused.

"That is marginally less insane."

"Thank you."

Otto finally intervened. "The underlying proposal is not unreasonable."

Arion turned toward his father with an expression of betrayal.

"I said the proposal," Otto clarified. "Not using Dean."

Dean frowned. "My blood is scientifically valuable."

"Your blood is politically inconvenient," Henrik said.

Dean stared at him.

Henrik continued without concern. "If something reacts strongly enough to follow it back, Arion will become impossible to work with."

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