Unnatural (The Wrong Alpha 1)

Haydn frowned. “Now?”

“Yes.”

Royce pulled out his phone. “I need to make a few calls anyway.” He walked away from the cousins, but not too far. He didn’t… he didn’t really feel like being parted from Haydn yet.

Great. Greedy, fucked-up, and now clingy too.

Royce sighed, more than a little disturbed. Could one be addicted to a person? They had talked several times that day, publicly and privately, and he had thoroughly scented Haydn, but somehow it wasn’t enough—which seemed to be a common theme where Haydn was concerned.

Grimacing, Royce turned his back to Haydn and Devlin and called his PR manager. “Good, bad, or disastrous?” he said when Anika answered.

“You both were brilliant,” she said. “The press conference went much better than I hoped. I’m monitoring social media reactions, and mostly it’s positive so far—our people’s reactions, that is. The Pelugians’ reaction is obviously completely different. I’ll need to speak to you and your husband as soon as possible.”

Royce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maybe later. We’ll call you.”

He paused, something about his own words hitting him in an unexpected way. It took him a moment to realize what was different. We. He’d referred to Haydn and him as a single entity.

And he’d liked it.

Chapter Fifteen

“What?” Haydn said, glancing back at Royce, who pulled out his phone and started speaking to someone.

“For fuck’s sake,” Devlin said. “You can survive five minutes without him. Eyes on me, Haydn.”

His face warm, Haydn scowled at him and crossed his arms over his chest. He felt terribly self-conscious all of a sudden. Was he really being clingy?

“Well?” he said, his voice sharper than it normally was. “What’s so urgent?”

Devlin gave him a flat look, his gaze unimpressed. “Can’t you guess? You just bared your throat to another alpha—a Kadarian alpha—in front of the entire planet. You think your father didn’t see it?”

Haydn’s stomach dropped. “He talked to you already?”

A grimace crossed Devlin’s face. “Talked? More like yelled. Next time you decide to do something stupid during a live press conference, at least have the decency to warn me so I can turn off my phone, too.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry, man.”

Devlin heaved a sigh and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. “It’s fine,” he said gruffly, lighting it and taking a long drag. “Look, I don’t know what you were thinking, but…” He met Haydn’s eyes. “Have you actually thought this through? Your father is starting to wonder where your loyalties lie.”

Haydn frowned. “I’m doing my part in maintaining the peace between our countries. Isn’t it the ultimate proof of my loyalty?”

Chuckling, Devlin said, “Sure. But to whom?”

Haydn was speechless for a moment, only blinking in confusion. His father really thought—even Devlin thought—that his loyalties were no longer to Pelugia? What the fuck?

“Are you serious?” Haydn snapped, starting to get angry. “I’ve served my country all my adult life. I’ve bled for it—and that’s not a metaphor—for the past fourteen years, but now my loyalties are in question? Because of one press conference?”

Devlin studied him carefully. “If you saw it—the way you look at him—you’d know why your father is getting suspicious and anxious.”

Haydn didn’t know what to say to that. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sighing, Devlin stubbed out his cigarette with his shoe. “You want honest advice?”

When Haydn nodded, Devlin said, “Make a choice. You can’t sit on two chairs at once. Regardless of the peace between our countries, Pelugia and Kadar will never be friends. So your neutral position isn’t sustainable.”

“Why the hell not?”

Devlin let out a small laugh. “Seriously? How are you going to rule Pelugia from Kadar? Because your husband isn’t moving to Pelugia. I’ve heard the Kadarians say that he’s the most likely candidate to win their elections next year. Or are you willing to move back to Pelugia and see him a few times a year?”

Haydn looked at him and didn’t know what to say.

Then he shifted his gaze to his husband. He stared at his strong, handsome profile as Royce spoke on the phone. He imagined returning to Pelugia and giving up this strange, easy intimacy between them—and it made his stomach hurt.

Fuck.

“You aren’t,” Devlin stated when the silence stretched. “So why the hell are you just prolonging the inevitable? Tell Stefan you abdicate—that’s it, problem solved.”

Abdicate.

The word made Haydn’s insides twist into a hard, uncomfortable knot. He’d been the heir to the throne since he was born. He had no idea how to be anything else.

“It’s not that simple,” Haydn said. “I can’t—I can’t just do it. I love my country.”

A strange emotion flashed across Devlin’s face. Sadness? Annoyance? But it was gone so quickly Haydn wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined it.

“All right,” Devlin said. “Your choice, your mistake.” And he strode away before Haydn could decide how to respond to that.

He was left staring at Devlin’s retreating back in bemusement and frustration. He had a bad feeling, and he wasn’t even sure why.