Feral (The Wrong Alpha 2)

The king just glared at him and said nothing, his jaw working.

Cormack cleared his throat. “Should I leave, Your Majesty?” he said awkwardly.

“You may stay, Austin,” Devlin said. “I’m sure you’re aware of all the royal dirty secrets.”

“You are not to give orders to my people when I’m right here in the room,” the king bit out. “Your impudence knows no bounds. At least Haydn knew how to show respect to his betters and never spoke out of turn.”

“And yet he’s the one getting disowned, despite being a good little prince all his life,” Devlin said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “His only misstep was having the audacity to fall in love with his husband and refuse to betray him. What gives, Your Majesty?”

A vein started throbbing in Stefan’s temple.

Devlin knew he shouldn’t aggravate the king so much. Rationally, he knew it. But he had a hell of a headache, and his temper was rather short after a sleepless night, and he didn’t like being told what to do—even if the politician in him agreed with the course of action Cormack and the king were suggesting.

“Get out of my sight,” the king said at last.

Smiling, Devlin stood up, gave the king a mock-bow, and strode out of the office.

His smile dropped as soon as he was out of the room.

Sighing, Devlin closed his eyes for a moment, trying to let go of the pent-up aggression under his skin.

He couldn’t.

Maybe he should find some pretty omega to fuck the tension out of his system—at least for a while. Except ever since the ordeal with kerosvarin, the mere thought of meaningless sex turned his stomach. It was probably his broken bond. It might have been broken, but his body still seemed to be having trouble adjusting to not having a mate. He got aroused at bizarre times for no damn reason and couldn’t get aroused when he should. The doctors said it was normal, given the experiments done to him and the loss of his mating bond, but it was a small comfort when most of the time Devlin felt so frustrated he could barely control himself.

But he had no choice.

He had to do what must be done.

Court Liam Blake and try to form a mating bond with him.

As soon as possible.

Chapter 11

“I’ll see if Master Liam is home, Your Grace,” the Blakes’ butler said before disappearing upstairs.

Devlin took a seat on the couch and, leaning back, closed his eyes, hoping some rest would help his pounding headache. He wasn’t used to feeling in any way sick—Xeus alphas’ heightened regeneration normally dealt with any issue. But these headaches probably had something to do with his broken bond.

“Why are you napping in our house?” said a familiar voice before someone plopped down next to him.

Devlin opened his eyes and found a pair of pretty brown eyes peering at him suspiciously.

His lips twitched. “Hello to you, too, Julian.”

Julian Blake scowled at him. “Stop calling me that.”

“That? Your name?”

“My name is Jules,” the brat said. “But you aren’t allowed to use my first name. It’s for my friends and family. You’re neither.”

“I’m practically your family—or will be soon.”

The glare Julian gave him was so vicious Devlin found himself smiling. Liam’s younger brother was amusing. And kind of adorable when he glowered like that.

“No you won’t be,” Julian said, lifting his chin.

“I will be your alpha,” Devlin said, tapping the little omega on his upturned nose. He liked embarrassing and angering him probably more than was healthy. “So mind your attitude.”

Two spots of color appeared on Julian’s pale cheeks. He glared at Devlin, his lips pursing. “You won’t be my alpha. Our brother hasn’t been declared dead yet. He might return yet.”

“You don’t really believe it,” Devlin stated. “Or Liam wouldn’t be in such a hurry to marry.”

Julian blinked, his long dark eyelashes fluttering. “How do you know that?”

“It wasn’t difficult to guess. Neither you nor your brother like your uncle much. You clearly don’t want to depend on him.”

“I don’t want to depend on you, either,” Julian said with a scoff. “So you aren’t marrying Liam.”

“Are you saying your brother won’t marry me without your approval?” Devlin said with a smile. “You’re adorable in your naivete.”

Julian scowled. “I’m not adorable. Stop treating me like I’m a stupid kid. I’m just a year younger than Liam.”

Devlin’s eyebrows flew up. He stared at him in bemusement. He had thought Julian was at least a few years younger, perhaps seventeen to Liam’s twenty.

It was probably the face, he concluded after a moment. Julian’s wide doe eyes gave him an innocent look. His small upturned nose and small pink mouth also contributed to making him look very young.

If Julian really was nineteen already, it somewhat explained why his uncle was displeased with him for not looking for suitors. Omegas tended to marry young, as young as sixteen. An omega was considered to be of age after their first heat—just like alphas were considered of age after their first rut. Devlin had always thought it was kind of disgusting to marry such young omegas, but he knew that a lot of alphas weren’t as squeamish as he was. Compared to that, a nineteen-year-old omega was more than ready for marriage. Many omegas had a couple of kids by that age.