Haydn followed him out of the closet, still feeling off. That was probably why he failed to feel any embarrassment when he realized that his pants were halfway down his thighs and his junk was hanging out.
Royce shook his head with something like fondness in his eyes and fixed Haydn’s pants for him, after carefully tucking Haydn’s soft cock into his underwear.
Haydn just gazed at him, feeling… he didn’t know what. He felt warm. And kind of giddy. But that must have been just sex. Sex. They’d had sex again. And this time Haydn couldn’t blame it on Royce’s rut in any way—or on his sex deprivation.
“Let’s hope your uncle has already left,” Royce said with a wry smile. “I don’t think he’ll appreciate seeing you like this.”
“Like what?” Haydn said as Royce fixed his shirt for him.
Royce’s expression was very strange. “You look…” His gaze roamed over Haydn’s face, lingering on his lips. “Like you just sucked a cock.”
Haydn felt his face become warm. He cleared his throat, not knowing what to say—not knowing how to act. He also had a growing urge to reach out and touch Royce. Just touch. With his hands or his mouth.
Biting the inside of his cheek, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Then let’s hope he’s gone,” Haydn said lightly. “We don’t want him to have a stroke.”
Royce snorted, laying a hand on his shoulder. The touch felt like a brand. “We don’t?”
Haydn grinned at him, and he felt something hot and tingly coil in his stomach when their gazes met. “Hmm, now that you say it…”
Royce laughed, his teeth flashing white against his sun-bronzed skin, his dark eyes warm and intense and—
Fuck, Haydn thought, his stomach sinking.
Fuck, indeed.
Chapter Seventeen
Haydn’s phone might have been turned off, but unfortunately, his father could still send him emails, and Haydn was apparently masochistic enough to read them.
Of course, his father also considered writing emails beneath him, so all of his messages were short and to the point.
I have never been so ashamed to have a son.
Turn on your phone, Haydn.
Don’t force me to come to Kadar and drag you home like an insolent brat.
And Haydn’s absolute favorite,
Your brother must have been rolling in his grave. I’m glad he isn’t alive to see this day. He would have never let a Kadarian make him his bitch.
Haydn was still shaking with anger as he threw his tablet onto the couch. Clenching his hand into a fist, he strode toward the front door. Air. He needed some fresh air to clear his head and calm down.
Fuck his father. Fuck him.
But he’s not wrong, is he? a snide voice said at the back of his mind. You behave little better than a bitch when you’re around Royce.
No, he didn’t.
Didn’t you go to your knees and suck his cock in a fucking closet? While your brother-in-law was just outside that closet? You were gagging for it. For another alpha’s cock.
His face burning, Haydn stormed out of the house.
Your father is right. That’s why you’re really angry. You’re ignoring your king, because you’re afraid to speak to him and face what you’ve become. That’s the truth, no matter how you try to swing it.
“Shut up,” Haydn muttered.
“Talking to yourself now?”
Haydn scowled and walked faster. “I’m not in the mood, Devlin.”
“I can see that,” Devlin said, falling into step beside him.
It annoyed Haydn how easily he kept up with him. He might have been in top physical shape, but Xeus alphas had advantages they were born with that made it impossible for Haydn to lose him unless Devlin gave up himself.
“Is there a fire somewhere?” Devlin said, his voice full of amusement.
Haydn sighed. “What do you want, Dev?”
“Just brought you a peace offering,” his cousin said. “So you’d finally stop sulking over what I said.”
“I’m not sulking.”
“Sure. Here.”
When Haydn finally looked at him, he found a bottle of his favorite whiskey in Devlin’s hand. His cousin smiled roguishly. “Peace? Do you have any idea how hard it was to find your favorite poison in this country?”
Snorting, Haydn accepted the bottle. He opened it and brought it to his lips, taking a long, greedy swig. He didn’t drink often, but he kind of needed it right now.
Some of the tension bled out of his shoulders as the alcohol hit his system. “Thanks,” he said.
Devlin shrugged, opening his own bottle and taking a swig. “I’m going home soon. Figured I’d rather not leave while you’re holding a grudge.”
“I wasn’t holding a grudge. And you don’t have to leave. I thought you were avoiding Lord Archvaius’s wrath?”
Devlin made a face. “I can’t avoid it forever. Surely the old coot must have realized by now that his daughter was no innocent virgin I corrupted. He can’t force me to marry her, anyway. And the lady doesn’t want to marry me, either.”