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Lucien grinned at him. “No, I’m not—” He let out a pained sound and yanked his hand out of Haydn’s grasp, his scent spiking with anxiety and wariness.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Haydn said, shrugging apologetically. “Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”

Royce laid a hand on Haydn’s shoulder, gripping it a little too tightly. In clear warning.

Haydn stiffened. The touch seemed to be burning him even through the layers of his clothes.

“Let’s go inside,” Royce said, steering him toward the front door. To onlookers, it probably looked like Royce was being an attentive husband, but Haydn could feel the hardness of his grip. It didn’t hurt, but it could. They both knew it. It made Haydn’s skin prickle.

Once they reached the house, everything was a bit of a blur. He was introduced to the staff and showed around by the friendly housekeeper. His husband accompanied them on the tour but remained silent, stone-faced, watching Haydn with a sharp, strange look in his eyes.

By the end of the tour, Haydn felt like screaming. Or punching someone. His skin was crawling with terrible awareness and he was subconsciously pumping out alpha pheromones for no damn reason. He felt threatened, but he wasn’t even sure why. Everyone was friendly and nice to him, as if he were a real husband of their boss rather than a political match.

When they reached Royce’s office, the beta thanked the housekeeper and pushed Haydn inside it.

The door shut with a hard thud, and they were alone.

“What was that?” Royce said.

Haydn crossed his arms over his chest. “What was what?”

Royce stepped closer until they were toe to toe. Black eyes bored into him. “The way you behaved with Lucien. It was unacceptable.”

“I did nothing. I was nice.”

“Your body language wasn’t nice. Nor was your scent.” Royce grimaced. “Look, don’t take it personally, but you should cut that alpha bullshit out when you’re in this house, especially around Lucien.”

Haydn pressed his lips into a thin line. Lucien this, Lucien that. “Why? What’s so special about Lucien?” His voice was snider than he’d intended.

Royce’s eyes hardened. “It’s not my story to tell. Just stay away from him.”

Haydn glared at him, acutely aware how unsteady his breathing was. How close they were. “Who do you think you are to give me orders? Even my father is less high-handed than you, and he’s an alpha. I am, too.” Part of him was mortified by the immature posturing shit coming out of his mouth. He was better than that, but he couldn’t seem to stop as he said condescendingly, “You’re forgetting yourself, husband.”

Royce slammed him against the door so hard his bones rattled, that familiar scent of ozone becoming overwhelming again.

“Maybe you’re used to people catering to your every whim, but you’re not in Pelugia anymore,” Royce said, his pupils dilated. “This is my house. If I say you should be nicer to Lucien, you will be. Is that understood?”

That low, deep voice and strong scent were doing something strange to him. He could barely breathe.

Before he realized what he was doing, Haydn tilted his head to the side. Baring his throat.

Royce went very still.

Haydn flushed, mortified and confused by his own behavior. Alphas didn’t bare their throats, or at least bared them very rarely as a sign of respect, usually to older alphas they were related to. He had no damn reason to bare his throat to his beta husband.

But before he could retract the offer, Royce lifted his hand and pressed his thumb against the scent gland on Haydn’s neck.

Haydn inhaled shakily and allowed him to scent-mark him. It was the most innocent, non-invasive form of scent-marking, but it was still scent-marking. He could feel the scent of ozone lingering on his skin, very faint but there.

After a short while, the anger receded from Royce’s scent. He let his hand drop, and for a few moments, they just stared at each other.

Haydn forced himself to keep holding his gaze, even though the urge to drop it was nearly irresistible. His body felt off, his knees weak.

“Years ago, Lucien was a victim of rape,” Royce said quietly. “He was in his first heat during a skirmish attack by a group of Pelugian alphas. Your people raped him while he was too lost in heat to even resist. He was fourteen.”

Haydn swallowed. He would like to say that what he’d heard surprised him, but unfortunately, things like that happened all the time during the war, on both sides. He still felt guilty for his aggressive behavior with Lucien earlier. The poor omega must have been scared of alphas, especially Pelugian alphas.

“I’m sorry,” he said, awkwardly.

Royce made a dismissive noise. “I don’t blame you for something your people did when you were a child. But I will blame you if you scare Lucien with your alpha bullshit and cause any bad memories to resurface.”


Tags: Alessandra Hazard The Wrong Alpha Paranormal