“What are you suggesting, Austin?” the king cut in tersely.
Cormack sighed. “What I suggested to His Grace weeks ago—to choose a suitable omega and bond to them as soon as possible. If he’s happily bonded to someone else, his first bondmate would not be able to prove that it was His Grace who forced a mating mark on them. Everyone knows Xeus alphas bond for life. We are fortunate that the genetic modification procedure His Grace underwent on Calluvia dissolved his first bond without any lasting harm to him. He can bond again.” He looked at Devlin with a hint of approval on his face. “I see that you followed my advice and already started courting Liam Blake. A very good choice, Your Grace.”
Devlin gave him a flat look. He didn’t like the way the beta always danced around the issue. “I’m hearing a but somewhere.”
“Unfortunately, the courtship alone isn’t enough to distract people and raise morale. A royal wedding is another matter entirely. You need to marry as soon as possible—and produce an heir. Preferably a non-shifter alpha.” Cormack looked at him nervously. “No offense, Your Grace.”
Devlin smiled, looking him in the eye. “None taken.”
Cormack swallowed and gave him an uncertain smile. “You must understand that I’m just thinking about the future of the Crown, Your Grace.”
“I understand. Go on.”
Cormack visibly exhaled. “Could you accelerate your courtship of Mr. Blake? I presume he’s amenable to marrying you, and you are compatible?”
The question gave Devlin pause. Those were two different issues. Liam Blake was amenable to marrying him, but as far as their compatibility went… Liam was ridiculously gorgeous, well educated, and well mannered. He wasn’t an empty-headed fool. His face was picture perfect, and his body was as beautiful as his face. Bedding him would certainly be no chore. He smelled pleasant enough. And yet…
Yet nothing, Devlin told himself sharply. Liam Blake was perfect for his purposes. The fact that the alpha inside Devlin wasn’t drawn to him was irrelevant. He wasn’t an animal. He was a man, and he would make the choice as a man.
“He’s amenable,” Devlin stated. “Is that all?”
“No,” Stefan said. “Contact Haydn and ask him to attend your inauguration as the crown prince. That would reassure his supporters that Haydn is stepping down willingly.”
Devlin stared at him. “Haydn isn’t stepping down willingly.”
“As far as our people are concerned, he is,” the king said. “We will say he has realized that he cannot be the king of Pelugia in addition to being the Lord Chancellor of the planet and the husband of the Kadarian prime minister.”
Devlin nearly laughed. “What are you going to do when Haydn refuses to confirm it?”
“He’ll confirm it to save his pride,” Stefan said bitingly. “Not to mention that he’s weak and soft-hearted, like all omegas. If you tell him that you need his support, he’ll fold.”
There had been a time when Devlin had tried to hate his half-brother. When they had been children, Haydn had everything he didn’t: the respect of their peers, the love and adoration of everyone, their father’s favor. Haydn had been the golden child of the palace while Devlin had been a violent boy no one wanted around, including his so-called mother. But as they had grown up, he’d come to pity Haydn, not envy him. Hating him was impossible. Haydn was a genuinely good person and good cousin—cousin, because Haydn had no idea that Devlin was the king’s bastard.
“Haydn isn’t an omega,” Devlin said neutrally, enjoying the way the king’s face flushed with anger.
“He is,” King Stefan hissed. “He’s a filthy omega masquerading as an alpha.”
Devlin adopted a look of confusion. “I thought you were the one that messed with his genetics and turned him into an alpha?”
The king’s scent spiked with rage as he leaned forward. “You’re forgetting yourself, boy,” he bit out, the air filling with his alpha pheromones.
Devlin stared at the king, entirely unimpressed. Did Stefan really think this posturing would work on him? He was a Xeus. If there was one good thing about being a Xeus, it was that Xeus alphas had stronger pheromones than non-shifter alphas did. He could out-alpha the king easily—if he wanted to.
He didn’t, of course. He didn’t need his designation to outplay the king. “I’m just somewhat curious, Your Majesty,” he said evenly. “Would you have recognized me as your son if you knew beforehand that your legitimate heir was going to be an omega? Even a filthy Xeus is probably better than a filthy omega, right?”
The king’s face was nearly purple by now with rage. “Get out of my sight,” he said tightly. “I should have given you to paupers, you ungrateful—”
“Why didn’t you?” Devlin said, genuinely curious. That was something he had never understood. The king had never showed him any affection, and Devlin didn’t delude himself into thinking that he was his only bastard. Why had the king even bothered to force his younger sister to raise his by-blow as hers, especially a Xeus by-blow? It wasn’t like the king hadn’t known that his bastard would be a Xeus when he grew up: in Pelugia, a genetic test usually determined an infant’s designation right after their birth, sometimes even a few months before birth, like in Haydn’s case. It was honestly perplexing.