Illicit (The Wrong Alpha 3)

“Why, you’re the one who kept telling me how perfect Terlaine is,” Liam said, without looking at his brother. “Why are you suddenly trying to convince me otherwise?”

“You smell unhappy,” Ant said.

Liam smiled blandly. “It’s hard to be happy when both of my brothers have left our home. It feels like the end of an era.”

“And that’s the only reason you’re unhappy?”

Liam fidgeted with his tie. He didn’t know why Ant was suddenly asking these questions. “You haven’t said anything about my ‘unhappy’ scent until now. I don’t understand the sudden interest.”

Ant sighed as they entered the ballroom. “It’s not sudden. I’ve noticed it for months. But I thought…”

“You thought what?” Liam said, looking around the crowded room.

“I thought you had feelings for Devlin.”

Liam laughed. “What? You thought I was jealous of Jules?”

“It made sense. He was your suitor first.”

“I don’t have feelings for Westcliff, Ant.”

“I know that now,” Ant said. “You didn’t seem heartbroken during the wedding. Your general level of unhappiness stayed about the same.”

“Thanks for sharing your observations,” Liam said dryly.

“I’m just worried for you, Li,” his brother said testily. “It’s not exactly encouraging that you still smell unhappy when you tell me you intend to accept Terlaine’s suit tonight. Are you sure?”

Liam gave a clipped nod, trying not to betray his unease. It was time. The scandal with Eric was a good reminder that an unmated omega was incredibly vulnerable to the slightest gossip. There was no point in waiting and hoping for—

For nothing. He had stopped hoping for stupid things that were never going to happen. He was done being a fool. It was time to be a mature adult who made mature, rational choices.

“Lord Blake,” a security guard said, materializing out of nowhere.

“Yes?” Anthony said, turning toward him.

“There’s a man requesting to talk to you. We tried to tell him it’s not a good time, but he’s very insistent. He says it’s urgent.”

Anthony frowned. “It really isn’t a good time. What’s his name?”

“Selwyn.”

Anthony’s face went utterly blank.

Then he was moving.

Liam stared at his retreating back, a little confused, before shrugging mentally and wandering in search of Jules. He hadn’t had the opportunity to offer his congratulations properly.

Eyeing the crowd of well-wishers around the new prince-consort, Liam hesitated.

But upon noticing his approach, Jules extricated himself from the crowd and made a beeline for Liam, his relief obvious. “Thank fuck,” he said, tucking his hand around Liam’s arm. “I needed someone to save me from them ages ago.”

Liam smiled. “Smile, Your Highness,” he said. “People are watching. Where’s your husband?”

Jules practically glowed at the word. “He’s over there discussing politics with those Kadarian senators.” He wrinkled his nose. “It’s very boring. I don’t know how Devlin manages not to fall asleep on his feet. He’s really good at politics.”

“Devlin is very good at everything,” Liam said with a wry smile. “I’m sensing a pattern. You couldn’t sound more besotted if you tried.”

“But he is good at everyth—” Jules cut himself off, staring at something behind Liam’s back. “Oh.”

Curious, Liam turned and followed his gaze.

He went still when he saw two tall men heading their way. They were identical in height and they looked so similar they could have been twins. But Liam’s gaze zeroed in on the man to the right. His heart jumped to his throat when his eyes locked with the familiar blue eyes (just the right shade, the perfect shade).

Liam’s vision swam a little, the rest of the world blurring, his face the only thing in focus. He was coming closer, and he was suddenly right there, within reach.

Liam stared at him hungrily, noting the leanness of his cheeks, the way his dark suit hugged his tall, muscular frame, the color of his blue, blue eyes. He’d clearly lost some weight, but he looked so familiar, so right, so damn perfect, it felt like Liam was breathing for the first time in months.

It took him a moment to notice that Ant was there, too, his hand on the other alpha’s shoulder.

“Boys, this is…” Ant started saying, before trailing off and grimacing, his expression becoming rather tight. The NDA was probably still preventing him from telling them his former teammate’s name.

But the other alpha didn’t have such a problem.

“Jonathan Marsden, the Earl of Selwyn,” he said.

Liam didn’t say anything. He just stared at—at Jonathan—and tried to summon the anger he should have been feeling. Anger was there, but it was muted.

Fuck, he missed him. So much. So much that his fingers were tingling with the urge to touch him, to make sure he was real, that he really was there.

But he couldn’t touch him. People were staring at them. Anthony—Jonathan wasn’t his brother. He was no one to him. An unfamiliar alpha. He had no business touching strange alphas.

“Jonathan,” Jules said flatly, giving fake-Anthony an unimpressed look.