Illicit (The Wrong Alpha 3)

“Liam,” Anthony said, grabbing his hands and squeezing them in his large hands.

It startled Liam so badly he stopped talking.

“I’m sorry,” Anthony said. There was something strange in his voice, as if he was choosing his words carefully. “I’m really sorry you had to go through this. You have to understand that there were circumstances beyond my control.”

“What circumstances?” Liam said, trying to sound stern. But his anger was melting away just because Anthony was holding his hands. He was disgusted with himself.

“I can’t tell you everything,” Anthony said. “It’s confidential. But I wasn’t just in the military. I was part of—special ops. We specialized in covert operations in enemy territory—”

“You were a spy?” Liam said, his mouth falling open.

Anthony chuckled. “It’s not the word I would choose, but it’s not incorrect.”

Liam fell silent, thinking of the implications of that.

“So you see, me and my team were actually in Kadar when she died,” Anthony said, playing with Liam’s fingers absentmindedly. “I didn’t find out about her death until months later. And then there was another mission that needed to be wrapped up before I could leave the base, but then we got dragged into the battle of Vandersal, and I got injured.”

“Oh,” Liam said, feeling awkward and unsure. “Sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t know.”

“You couldn’t know. It’s fine. But… let’s keep this between us, all right? It’s confidential. I shouldn’t have told you anything. Don’t tell Uncle and the boys.”

“All right,” Liam said. He couldn’t deny that he felt pleased that Anthony had told him something he hadn’t told the others. A secret. Something theirs.

Anthony squeezed his fingers. “Thank you,” he said, his low, warm voice wrapping around Liam’s senses like a physical thing.

Liam found himself smiling stupidly, and he was suddenly very glad for the darkness in the room.

“Now tell me why you were looking for me.”

Right. The reason he was here.

“I want to go back to the city,” Liam said.

“Why? The season is over.”

“There will still be smaller entertainments,” Liam said.

“That doesn’t answer my question. Why do you want to go back?”

Liam stared at the opposite wall. “I want to find a mate. The sooner the better.”

Anthony stopped playing with his fingers.

“What’s the rush?” he said, his voice even. “You’re just twenty.”

“Jules is nineteen, but he’s getting married soon.”

“I wasn’t aware it was a competition.”

“It’s not,” Liam said softly. “I just…” He hesitated, before settling on a half-truth. “You know that Westcliff publicly jilted me for Jules, right? The gossip has been… pretty bad.” Liam pursed his lips. He didn’t want to talk about it, but it was better than the alternative. He could hardly tell Anthony why he needed to get married fast. Anthony smelling his inappropriate arousal was one thing; actually acknowledging it was another matter entirely.

“How bad?” Anthony said. There was something strange in his voice, but Liam couldn’t put his finger on it. “Tell me.”

Liam pulled a face. He really didn’t want to talk about it. He had his pride. Even Jules didn’t know the extent of it.

“Liam,” Anthony said.

Liam sighed. “They laugh at me,” he admitted quietly. “They fake politeness when Westcliff and Jules are around, but when I’m alone, it’s snide remark after snide remark. They barely even bother to pretend that they’re laughing with me rather than at me. It’s—it’s unbearable, to be honest.” He chuckled a little. “Not that I don’t understand. It’s probably funny from the outside: the so-called diamond of the season publicly jilted by the most handsome alpha on the planet in favor of his little brother. It’s kind of hilarious, isn’t it?”

He hated that his voice broke slightly, but he could do nothing about it. He might not have loved Westcliff, but he had thought they were going to be married. He had spent hours dressing for that ball, thinking that Westcliff would finally propose—only to be humiliated in front of everyone. No, he didn’t begrudge his baby brother his happiness—he was happy for Jules; he truly was—but it didn’t mean he hadn’t been humiliated in the worst possible way. It had hurt. It had hurt that the Duke of Westcliff had spent weeks courting him but didn’t see anything worth loving in him; instead, he fell for Liam’s brother.

Was there nothing lovable about him besides his looks?

“Hey.” Anthony sat up and put his hands on Liam’s shoulders. “Stop that,” he said, his voice rough but somehow gentle too.

“Stop what?”

“Stop feeling upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Liam lied with a small laugh. “It’s fine. Maybe my ego deserved some beating. Maybe I needed that. All the compliments went to my head, to be honest, and this debacle taught me valuable lessons. Now I know who my real friends are.” He laughed again. “Oh, wait, I don’t have them.”

“Sweetheart,” Anthony said with a sigh before pulling him into a hug.