Unnatural (The Wrong Alpha 1)

Haydn took another sip from his bottle. “Stay for at least a few more days. I want a backup in case my father or Uncle Yurev decide to corner me.”

“Don’t you have your husband for it?”

“Considering that he’s the reason they’re mad at me, his presence is unlikely to make anything better,” he said, avoiding Devlin’s gaze.

“Ah.”

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Haydn heaved a sigh. “Fine. I’m going to tell you something now, but if you make fun of me, I am kicking you out of this house.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

Haydn caught his bottom lip between his teeth. “I kind of had sex with Royce. Like, several times.”

“Am I supposed to be surprised?” Devlin said. “With the way he’s been all but mauling your neck, I was sure he was dying to stick his dick into you. There’s no such thing as platonic scenting.”

Haydn looked away, his face hot. “I think… I might be a little bit in love with him.” Or a lot.

“Finally. I’m glad you aren’t as stupid as I was starting to think you were.”

Elbowing him, Haydn muttered, “Fuck off.” He looked anywhere but at his cousin. “You don’t think it’s weird? We’re both alphas.”

“It is weird, but whatever floats your boat.”

Haydn said nothing.

He could feel Devlin’s gaze on his face. “What’s the problem, Haydn? Is it about your father?”

Haydn laughed. When was it ever not about him? “Among other things. But alpha-alpha relationships never work, Dev. Everyone knows that.”

His cousin hummed. “There are always exceptions to any rule. Personally, I can’t imagine wanting another alpha—wanting them enough to go against my nature, but if the idea of submitting to him doesn’t make you want to puke, it’s probably a good sign. Alpha-alpha relationships are so rare because they feel off-putting and wrong—our body chemistry is wired against submitting—not because they are wrong.”

Haydn gave him a curious look. “You say it like you know it from experience.”

His cousin shrugged. “I did experiment when I was in college. The one time I tried to hook up with another alpha, we nearly came to blows over who got to fuck whom, so nothing happened.” He smiled a little wistfully. “Which was a pity, because she was gorgeous.” He looked at Haydn, his gaze assessing and curious. “Can you imagine letting him fuck you? That’s pretty much the ultimate test.”

Haydn swallowed and didn’t answer.

By the time he left Devlin and returned to his room, Haydn was still thinking about his question—the images Devlin had put into his head.

Can you imagine letting him fuck you?

He imagined himself on his hands and knees, presenting his ass to Royce like an omega, and something in his lower stomach clenched with a mix of shame and mortification. But as mortifying as the thought was, it wasn’t exactly repulsive. Far from it.

He had no idea what being fucked felt like—he’d always been the one doing the fucking when he had sex with omegas and betas in the past—but the thought of submitting to Royce, letting the other alpha use him in such a way was…

Haydn licked his lips. It should have been disgusting. He was an alpha. Alphas didn’t want such things. Alphas wanted to fuck, not to be fucked.

He shouldn’t want it. Even if he wanted Royce—and at this point it was undeniable—he should fantasize about fucking his husband instead of getting fucked by him. And while the thought of Royce’s tan, muscular body under him was appealing, he kept fixating on what that body would look like over him, on top of him, inside of him. He imagined being stretched on Royce’s knot and Royce’s hot come pumping into him until he was so full of it his stomach was bloated. Something about that thought was so satisfyingly filthy it nearly made Haydn moan.

He glanced down at the tent in his pants and sighed.

He guessed that answered Devlin’s question.

Chapter Eighteen

Haydn spent the next few days alternating between quietly freaking out over the fact that he was besotted with his alpha husband and freaking out over the fact that he had no idea what to do about it. It didn’t help that Royce kept sending him mixed signals. He was still as handsy with Haydn as ever, but he acted as if what had happened in the closet wasn’t a big deal. Nothing had changed about their friendship, and it was driving Haydn crazy. Half of the time he wanted to literally jump onto Royce and tear his clothes off him, while Royce remained infuriatingly unflappable, infuriatingly good-humored, and infuriatingly handsy with him.

There was also the not-insignificant problem of his father. He couldn’t avoid him or Uncle Yurev forever.

He had no idea what to do.

To make things worse, the tensions between the two countries were growing again. While the press conference seemed to have fixed the Kadarians’ doubts about the feasibility of their marriage, it seemed to have also made the Pelugians uneasy that their future king had bared his neck to a Kadarian senator.