Royce’s brows furrowed. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing of this?”
Haydn smiled at him, touched by the concern in Royce’s scent. He suddenly felt a rush of gratefulness to Prime Minister Taube for choosing Royce for him and not someone else.
“Because there was no need,” he explained patiently, stroking Royce’s tense arm. “I never forget to take my medicine. I like breathing. You have nothing to worry about.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Devlin muttered. “Stop making googly eyes at him. It’s ruining my appetite.”
Haydn scowled at him, but Royce completely ignored Devlin, his intent gaze still on Haydn. “I don’t like it,” he said curtly, the scent of thunderstorm and wet soil becoming predominant in the room, despite the presence of a Xeus.
Frowning, Haydn cocked his head to the side. “Is your scent-blocker malfunctioning? You don’t smell like a beta anymore.”
“Yeah, you definitely don’t,” Devlin said.
Something grim settled over Royce’s features. “My implant is fully functional. I’ve checked.” Before Haydn could say that this couldn’t possibly be right, Royce shook his head. “I’m aware of the problem: Belinda told me about it first thing in the morning. But I don’t know how to fix it. My beta implant is completely functional. I just seem to be exuding more pheromones than usual and the implant can’t mask them anymore.”
Oh.
“Maybe it’s just the rut,” Haydn said slowly. “Maybe the problem will go away once your hormones settle after your rut.”
Royce looked down, his lips pursing briefly. “Maybe. Let’s hope the problem will go away before I have to return to work the day after tomorrow.”
But what if it didn’t?
Chapter Thirteen
“What are we going to do?” Vagrippa said, wringing her hands. She was pale, her normally impeccably coiffed hair in slight disarray. “I’m going to be in so much trouble for falsifying your presentation documents. I can’t even blame it on your father, because he was off-world when you presented!”
Royce’s face was grave, his body tense beside Haydn. His scent was pure alpha now, strong and difficult to ignore. At least Haydn couldn’t ignore it, Royce’s scent the only thing he could smell. Granted, it probably didn’t help that they were sitting so close, but they didn’t sit any other way these days. Royce’s territorial behavior hadn’t abated at all since his rut. He was always all over Haydn’s personal space, and every time Haydn had tried to get some space between them, Royce just crowded him and scent-marked him so thoroughly Haydn’s mind became hazy and unfocused from all the pheromones.
Devlin had actually said that Haydn looked a little high all the time now. “Are you fucking him or not?” he had said yesterday. When Haydn had flushed and said a vehement no, Devlin looked at him as though he were crazy. “Then why are you letting him brand you? You’d smell more like his property only if he whipped out his dick and literally pissed on you. I can barely smell you under his stink these days.”
“He doesn’t stink,” Haydn had managed uncomfortably. He smells good. Aloud, he had said, “His scent doesn’t bother me. Leave it, Devlin.”
Returning to the present, Haydn was very glad that Devlin wasn’t in the room and couldn’t see that Royce practically had him tucked under his arm and was rubbing Haydn’s bicep absentmindedly as he thought. “The traditionalists are going to have a field day,” he said with a sigh. “Our party will have to put forward another candidate for the elections.”
“Being an alpha isn’t the problem,” Haydn said. “The lying is, right?”
Royce nodded.
“What if…” Haydn thought for a moment. “What if we tell them that you really used to be a beta? A beta with dormant alpha genes. What if those dormant genes just activated when you married an alpha? I think there were a few precedents in Pelugia.”
Royce just looked at him for a moment before smiling. “I could kiss you right now,” he said, his hand on Haydn’s bicep tightening and pulling him closer.
Haydn moistened his lips with his tongue and smiled. “You may,” he said in his haughtiest voice, pointing at his cheek. Fuck, was he flirting?
Chuckling, Royce pecked him on it, his stubble grazing his skin.
Haydn shivered and arched his neck, wanting Royce’s mouth on it. Royce leaned down and fit his lips over the bruise on Haydn’s throat and sucked. A whine slipped out of Haydn’s mouth. He buried his fingers in Royce’s short hair and held him in place. Yes, yes—
An awkward cough made them go still.
Right. They weren’t alone.
Haydn forced his eyes open and found himself looking at Vagrippa.
She was staring at them, a look of discomfort on her face. “I’m glad we’ve found an acceptable solution that won’t get any of us in trouble,” she said, rather stiffly. “If you’ll excuse me.” She strode out of the room and shut the door a little too firmly, leaving them alone.