Feral (The Wrong Alpha 2)

Liam smiled a little. Taking Jules’s hands into his own, he squeezed them. “Of course I want to be loved. But I think love will come in time. It’s perfectly fine that he isn’t in love with me yet. I’m not in love with him, either. But I’m sure it’ll happen as we spend more time together. Love takes time, Jules. I couldn’t dream of a better suitor. He was perfectly charming, he’s the most handsome alpha I’ve ever seen, and he smells nice.”

Jules frowned. At times like this, he hated that his suppressants deprived him of normal sensory inputs. “You’re compatible?”

“We could be,” Liam said. “He smells nice enough to make me want to inhale his scent more.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I have experience with such things. Sure, it’s nothing like in those trashy novels—I don’t get instantly slick when he’s close—but that probably doesn’t happen in real life.”

Jules averted his gaze.

“Wait,” Liam said. “Did that happen to you with your—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jules said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Come on, don’t be a prude—”

“I’m not being a prude,” Jules snapped. “The bond just hurts when I think of him, okay?”

The curious gleam in Liam’s eyes disappeared, replaced with pity. It was almost worse.

Pursing his lips, Jules looked down at his hands. “Anyway,” he said. “Just because he smells nice, it doesn’t make him a good person. He’s a—”

“Two-faced, slippery, heartless bastard,” Liam said with a long-suffering smile. “You already said that. Ten times.”

Jules scowled. “Fine, don’t listen to me and get your heart broken.”

Liam patted Jules on the shoulder. “Thanks for worrying for me, really,” he said. “But you shouldn’t. It’s not your job. You’re my little brother, and it’s my job to worry about you, not vice versa.”

“You’re just a year older,” Jules said, chuckling.

“Still older than you,” Liam said. “Look, I promise that I’ll pay closer attention to anything the duke says, but you really have nothing to worry about.” He smiled. “He’s perfect, brother.”

Jules thought of the cold-eyed man saying “he’ll do” and couldn’t disagree more.

“No one is perfect,” he muttered. Surely he could somehow make Westcliff show his true colors in front of Liam?

All right, he needed a plan.

***

Two days later, as he watched Westcliff dance with Liam—again—Jules was still without a solid plan. The situation was actually worse now, after his misguided attempt to involve his uncle.

Jules winced at the thought. All right, it hadn’t been his brightest moment. In his defense, he had thought his uncle’s hatred for Xeus alphas would outweigh Westcliff’s title and money. But apparently Uncle Wayne was perfectly content to despise Westcliff and other Xeus alphas quietly and had no intention of putting an end to their courtship. As much as Jules hated his uncle and his bigotry, he would have respected him a little more if he were principled enough to be consistent in his hatred. It was absolutely sickening to watch Uncle Wayne smile at the Duke of Westcliff as if he hadn’t tortured and experimented on Jules’s Xeus. And irrationally, that only made him dislike Westcliff more. Why did this Xeus alpha have everything while Jules’s Xeus had been killed like an animal?

Jules scowled at the dancing couple.

This complicated dance made it obvious how elegant and sophisticated Westcliff was. Despite his tall, muscular frame, he didn’t look like an oaf, leading Liam with ease and grace through the intricate steps of the dance.

They looked wonderful together: a tall, dark, strikingly handsome alpha and a golden-haired, exquisitely beautiful omega. Everyone in the ballroom seemed to be watching them. Jules could hear countless people sighing and commenting on what a beautiful couple they made.

The bastard’s strategy was absolutely working.

Jules glared at Westcliff, hating that fake-ass charming smile on his face, the way he made Liam laugh and grin at him. The sight was nauseating.

“Stop gawking at your brother and find a match for yourself.”

Jules flinched and looked at his uncle.

Uncle Wayne was very pale, his skin an unhealthy shade, and yet he stood tall and proud, as if there was nothing wrong. He certainly seemed healthy enough to stick his nose where it didn’t belong.

“I can hardly just find a match for myself, Uncle,” Jules said. “The other party must be amenable, too. Alphas don’t take too kindly to omegas choosing them as a mate without asking their opinion on the matter.”

“Don’t you snark at me, boy,” Uncle Wayne bit off, a hint of his Voice creeping into his words.

Jules flinched and crossed his arms over his chest. He hated when Uncle Wayne did that. He hated that it affected him.

“I don’t understand why you use so many suppressants,” Uncle Wayne said, his nostrils flaring. “You don’t even smell like an omega anymore—it’s unnatural. Your scent was the only semi-attractive thing about you. Of course no one wants to dance with you now.”