Chapter 34: No

Levi sat frozen in the low chair, staring at Dexter. For a long moment his mind went completely blank. The study, the morning light, the deliberate discomfort of the seat, all of it seemed to recede until there was only the calm expression on the third prince’s face and the single word he had just spoken.

Pregnant? Levi thought once again. Dexter wanted to get him pregnant.

The shock came first, it knocked the air from his lungs and left his thoughts scattered. Right behind it came anger, rising so quickly it made him feel like he was physically on fire. And underneath both sat a cold, familiar realization: once again, someone with power was looking at him and seeing a solution instead of a person.

His family had done it when they offered him as payment. Elvis did it with every careful smile and rewritten promise of rescue. And now Dexter, with his soft voice and long silences, was doing it too.

Levi let the silence stretch. He needed the extra seconds to force his breathing steady. When he finally spoke, his voice came out flatter than he expected.

"You’re serious."

"I am," Dexter replied without any hesitation whatsoever. His mind was clearly made up, and he did not seem to care at all about what Levi felt or was feeling.

Levi’s hands curled slowly into fists on his thighs. He stared at the third prince and tried to read any trace of doubt or cruelty in that pale, composed face. He found neither, only certainty.

"You want to put a child in me," Levi said, "so your father can’t ignore the claim anymore."

"Yes."

"That’s the plan."

Dexter gave a small nod. "A child makes the bond permanent in a way suppressants and politics can’t erase. It forces everyone to deal with what already exists instead of pretending it can be starved out of existence."

Levi let out a short, incredulous breath that was almost a laugh.

"So I’m the strategy."

"You’re my mate," Dexter said. "I’m trying to keep that from being erased."

"By using my body."

Dexter did not look away. "By making the claim something they can’t just ignore."

The anger in Levi’s chest sharpened. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees, and held the third prince’s gaze without blinking.

"Do you actually hear how that sounds?" he asked. "You’re sitting there calmly telling me you want to get me pregnant so you can win against your father and your eldest brother. Like I’m a piece on a board you can move into the right position."

"I’m telling you the truth," Dexter answered. His voice remained even, almost gentle. "I would rather have your cooperation. It would make every step that follows cleaner. But I won’t pretend this is only about what you want. The bond is real, and I won’t let them starve it out of existence while I still have a way to prevent it."

"And what I want?" Levi’s voice tightened. "Does that matter at all?"

"It matters," Dexter said. "It just isn’t the only thing that matters."

That did it.

The last of Levi’s careful restraint snapped. He stood up so quickly the chair scraped hard against the floor. His pulse slammed in his throat, but when he spoke his voice stayed steady, held there by sheer will.

"No."

Dexter’s eyes narrowed a fraction. He rose as well, slower, using the full difference in height and presence.

"Levi—"

"I said no." Levi’s hands were trembling now. He kept them at his sides so the tremor would be less obvious. "You’re not listening to me. You’re explaining, very patiently, why my refusal doesn’t change your plan. That isn’t a conversation. That’s a notification."

"You’re reacting emotionally."

"Of course I am!" The words came out sharper than he intended, louder than the quiet study seemed to allow. "You just told me you want to get me pregnant for leverage. How else am I supposed to react? Politely? Gratefully?"

Dexter’s expression remained controlled, but something cooler moved behind his eyes. "I’m offering you a future where you aren’t slowly erased. Where the claim means something permanent. The alternative currently on the table is more suppressants, tighter restrictions, and being written out of every version of this house’s future."

Levi shook his head once, hard.

"The alternative is mine to figure out. Not yours to assign me." He took a step sideways, clear of the chair, clear of the desk’s imposing line. "You don’t get to decide that the only way I survive is by carrying your child so you can win a war against your own family."

"You are already carrying my claim," Dexter said softly. "That is not nothing. It is the reason they are trying so hard to bury what the Goddess did. I am simply refusing to let them succeed."

"By turning me into proof."

"By making the truth impossible to ignore."

Levi’s chest felt tight. He was agitated and pissed. He wanted to just push the Alpha, possibly even hit him, but he held his rage and kept it as contained as he could.

He forced himself to take another step toward the door, now tired of the back and forth.

"This conversation is over."

Dexter’s voice followed him, still quiet, still absolute. "I didn’t dismiss you."

"I’m dismissing myself."

For a moment neither of them moved. The air in the study felt too thin. Levi could feel the weight of the third prince’s attention fixed on his back like a physical pressure. Part of him expected an order, or a reminder that he was a servant and didn’t get to oppose the princes. But nothing came.

Levi reached the door, closed his hand around the latch, and opened it. The corridor air spilled in, cooler and less charged. He stepped through.

Only when the door clicked shut behind him and he had put several full strides between himself and the study did the full weight of what he had just done hit him.

He had said no.

He had stood up, spoken the word clearly, and walked out on the prince who owned the claim on his throat.

His legs felt unsteady. His hands were still trembling. A thin, high tension ran under his skin, equal parts fear and anger. He kept walking, turning corners without any clear destination, until the immediate vicinity of Dexter’s study was behind him and the ordinary sounds of the house returned.

He found a recessed window and stopped there, one hand braced against the stone, and let himself breathe. He didn’t know how he got the courage to do what he just did, but he was glad he did. But now, the fear of the consequences of his actions were now beginning to make him lose his mind.