Unnatural (The Wrong Alpha 1)

A wave of embarrassment washed over him. Royce must have heard his father’s words.

“Indeed,” Stefan said flatly.

“If you’ll excuse us, I need to talk to my husband,” Royce said, and without waiting for a response, pulled Haydn away.

“Your timing is impeccable,” Haydn said as soon as they were out of his father’s earshot.

“He was being a dick to you, but then again, he has been a dick all day, so I’m not surprised.” Royce grimaced.

“That bad?” Haydn said sympathetically, touching his wrist.

Royce chuckled without much mirth. “I had to mediate between your father and Taube all day, trying to keep the peace neither of them seems interested in keeping. I don’t get paid for this, fucking hell.”

Haydn frowned and pulled Royce into the alcove behind the big plant they were passing. “Hey,” he said, touching Royce’s clean-shaven cheek. “You tired? We can leave.”

Sighing, Royce buried his face against Haydn’s throat. “I am tired, but I can’t leave. I don’t trust Taube not to fuck everything up accidentally on purpose. I just…” He breathed in deeply. “Just need a moment to recharge, and then I’ll go back to mediating.”

The tight feeling in Haydn’s chest caused by his father’s words dissipated completely, warmth flooding his insides. He smiled, threading his fingers through the hair on Royce’s nape. “Are you saying my revolting alpha scent is actually comforting?” he said teasingly.

Royce snorted, nuzzling his scent gland. “It must have grown on me. Like a fungus.”

Haydn laughed. “You say the sweetest things.”

Royce’s hands slid down his back and pulled him flush against him. “Your scent is comforting,” he said quietly, his mouth nipping on his neck. “You are. I love being around you. You make me feel good. Lighter on the inside.” His lips moved up Haydn’s neck. “Like I can accomplish anything I want. You were all I thought about when I was stuck in the room with your father and Taube.”

Shivering, Haydn made a small noise as their mouths finally slotted together. He’d never felt like this: like crawling out of his skin and wanting to have Royce inside it. He sucked on Royce’s tongue, pulling him closer, needing him—

There was a camera flash, but he didn’t care. This was his husband, his, and Haydn had every right to kiss him and touch him and—

“Sweetheart, we need to stop while we still can,” Royce said hoarsely, breaking the kiss and pressing their foreheads together.

Haydn’s heart melted into a sappy puddle of goo. He kissed Royce again. Just a short one. Except the short kiss turned into a very long one, their mouths clinging to one another, refusing to part. He’d never known kissing could be so addictive. Could feel so good.

“I hate to interrupt, but Lord Ksar is looking for you, Royce.”

Groaning, Haydn broke the kiss and glared at his cousin.

Devlin was grinning, looking unfairly handsome and amused. Asshole.

Royce heaved a sigh, brushed his mouth against Haydn’s one more time and then strode away, muttering under his breath, “I’m not actually the prime minister, dammit.”

Devlin waggled his eyebrows. “Making out behind a plant? How old are you, fifteen?”

Tearing his eyes away from Royce’s retreating back, Haydn sighed. “Oh, shut it. I know I’m being ridiculous, but I just…” He shrugged helplessly. I just want him so much. So much.

Slinging an arm around Haydn’s shoulders, Devlin said, “Let’s get something to drink.”

As if summoned by his words, a waiter materialized in front of them and offered them drinks.

Haydn thanked the waiter and took a sip of his wine, wanting to prolong it so he could appear busy and ignore the curious looks on him. He and Royce must not have been as well hidden behind the plant as he’d thought.

“So…” Devlin said, sipping his own drink. “You let him fuck you, didn’t you? You reek of him, even more than before.”

Haydn ran a hand over his warm face and didn’t say anything. Although he didn’t regret anything, it was still difficult to admit to a fellow alpha that he’d enjoyed being fucked by another alpha.

“That’s none of your business what I do with my husband, Dev,” he said, his eyes involuntarily returning to Royce across the ballroom. He was speaking to Lord Ksar’ngh’chaali, both of them frowning as they discussed something.

“Just the man I’ve been looking for!”

The vaguely familiar voice made Haydn turn around.

He found himself looking at Prime Minister Taube, who was smiling at him genially. “Prince Haydn,” he said, stretching his hand out for a handshake. “I haven’t seen you since your wedding! I wanted to offer my congratulations again, especially now that your marriage is thriving.”

Haydn handed his drink to Devlin and shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, Your Excellency.” He gave him a genuine smile. Unlike his husband, he didn’t really dislike the prime minster. He couldn’t help but feel grateful that Taube had chosen Royce for him and not someone else. The mere idea of being married to someone else was…