Chapter 1

Chapter One

It was pouring heavily on the day Haydn Schaefer’s life was turned upside down.

Haydn was soaked by the time he returned to the palace, and he was thinking longingly of a hot shower when the butler intercepted him and informed him that the king wanted to see him.

“Where is he, Dylas?” Haydn said with a sigh, wincing at the puddle growing under his feet.

“In his study, Your Highness.”

Haydn looked down at his filthy boots and equally filthy military uniform. Leading his troops in vigorous physical training had made him as tired, cold, and dirty as the soldiers under his command, and he wasn’t exactly in the mood for his father’s shit. “I’ll see him after taking a shower. I stink.”

Dylas shook his head. “His Majesty said you must go to him immediately after your return.” His tone was apologetic but uncompromising. The old butler wasn’t going to budge. This must have been important.

Frowning, Haydn headed toward his father’s study.

He knocked once before entering.

“Your Majesty,” he said respectfully, but not too respectfully. It was always a balancing act. If he was too respectful, his father started thinking he wasn’t alpha enough. If he was too disrespectful, his father bristled, immediately suspicious that Haydn wanted to usurp his throne. It was beyond annoying. Not for the first time in his life, Haydn wished he had been born a beta.

Or an omega.

He pushed the thought away. Such thoughts were pointless. And ridiculous. He was an alpha. Alphas had it easy, compared to betas and especially omegas. Well, Xeus alphas had it worse than either betas or omegas, but Haydn wasn’t one, so he had nothing to complain about.

King Stefan lifted his gaze from his computer, his dark gold brows furrowing slightly. “You’re finally back.”

“You wanted to see me, Father?” Haydn said, straightening himself to his full height, which may not have been as impressive as the king’s but certainly made him taller than most people.

Except it wasn’t most people he was usually compared to—and found lacking. Haydn couldn’t help but think that in his father’s eyes, he would always be the smaller, blonder version of his dead brother. The other son. Not quite as good as his first one.

“Sit,” King Stefan said shortly.

Haydn did as he was told.

The king regarded him from across the desk. “I had a meeting with the Galactic Council representative this morning. You were aware of it, I presume?”

Haydn just nodded. It would have been difficult for him to be ignorant of it when the entire palace had been preparing for that visit for days.

Judging by the king’s scowl, the meeting hadn’t gone as well as he had hoped.

“The Galactic Council isn’t pleased with us,” Stefan said. “They don’t think our planet deserves to be part of the Union of Planets until our ‘barbaric civil war’ is over.”

“Civil war?” Haydn said, his brows drawing close. “There is no civil war in our kingdom.”

“Civil war on our planet,” the king said. “For the Galactic Council, Eila is one entity, and they don’t care that we’ve had two different countries with different governments for thousands of years. They want us to make peace with Kadar and choose one Lord Chancellor to represent our planet. They don’t want two.”

Haydn stared at him in amazement. “You can’t be seriously considering it.” Pelugia and the Republic of Kadar had been at war all his life; he literally couldn’t imagine them not being at war. Not that Haydn wouldn’t welcome an end to this war. Of course he would welcome it. He was tired of leading his men to their deaths, over and over and over. He had lost two thousand men just this past month. Two thousand and thirty-one.

So no, Haydn would be fucking delighted if the war finally ended. He just didn’t believe it was achievable. There were too many grievances on both sides.

Stefan grimaced. “We have little choice. If we don’t do as they say, the Galactic Council will revoke our membership in the Union of Planets, and we’ll lose access to the TNIT network, and most importantly, lose the protection we have as a member of the Union. We will be fair game for any filthy pirate coalition out there.”

Haydn leaned back in his chair, frowning. “The Galactic Council can’t do that, can they? It’s not like Eila is the only planet in the Union that doesn’t have a unified government. There are some very powerful Inner Core planets that have multiple kingdoms or republics: Vergx or Calluvia, for example.”

The king sighed. “We aren’t Vergx or Calluvia, Haydn. By galactic standards, we’re small fish. We don’t have those planets’ political and economic power that allows them to be exceptions to the rule. Besides, those planets still have some kind of unified government—and one Lord Chancellor. We can’t say the same about us. So the Council is giving us an ultimatum: make peace with Kadar and choose one Lord Chancellor within the next few months, or they’re kicking us out of the Union.”

“But how are we supposed to make peace with them, exactly?” Haydn said, drumming his fingers over the armrest. His mind was racing, trying to think of how they could possibly achieve peace with Kadar. All attempts at peace over the decades had failed, the war resuming within months.

His father scowled again. “Apparently, the Kadarian Prime Minister has already offered a perfect solution: a marriage between two high-profile political figures of our countries.”

Haydn felt dread curl in his stomach.

He told himself his father couldn’t possibly mean what he thought he meant. Surely his father didn’t intend to use him as a piece in a political game.

“Obviously, you, as my heir and a renowned general in my army, are not expendable,” the king said.

Haydn breathed out.

But his relief didn’t last long.

“So I offered your cousin Devlin, but Prime Minister Taube rejected that offer.” Stefan sneered. “For obvious reasons.”

Haydn pressed his lips together. He’d always hated the prejudice against Xeus alphas, but there was nothing he could do about it, no matter how unfair it was to Devlin and other alphas like him.

“The prime minister insists that for the marriage to truly unite our countries”—Stefan’s expression turned sour—“a marriage between my heir and a Kadarian senator is the only solution. I had to agree.”

Haydn’s stomach dropped.

Fuck.

He opened his mouth to voice his protests but then closed it, knowing they would be futile. There was no point. Once his father made a decision, he never changed it.

“What senator?” Haydn said, forcing his voice to sound calm. “Have they already chosen?”

“Don’t worry, I have made it clear that you should have a say. You can’t choose someone specifically—unfortunately, the final choice will be the prime minister’s—but I insisted that you should at least choose your spouse’s sex and designation. You are the Crown Prince of Pelugia. My heir should have a say in the matter.”

Haydn had never felt more grateful for his father’s pride.

“Thank you, Father,” he said. “I don’t care about their sex, but as for their designation…” He hesitated. Since he was an alpha, most people would expect him to choose an omega. But.

Haydn had always felt strange around omegas. They were so small. Vulnerable. Needy. They expected him to take care of them. He didn’t like it. He didn’t find it attractive, no matter how good they smelled to his alpha senses when he was in rut. Having sex with omegas had always felt like something of a chore: vaguely unsatisfying and wrong. Something about it made his skin crawl. He couldn’t imagine being married to an omega.

“They must be a beta,” Haydn said.

The king raised his eyebrows. “A beta? Why not an omega? Omegas are easier to control, son. They’re very malleable as long as they get a hard knot in their holes.”

Haydn’s jaw tightened. He looked the king in the eyes. “I don’t want easy, Father. I like a challenge. I prefer betas, you must know that.”

Stefan hummed, looking skeptical, but nodded. “It’s probably for the best,” he said after a moment. “I don’t think there are any omegas in the Kadarian Senate. Even if there are, the fact that I can’t think of any proves that they’re not of any import. Omegas rarely are.”

Haydn kept his expression blank. His father’s disgusting prejudice against omegas was well documented, and he’d learned to ignore it, no matter how much he disagreed.

“Then it is settled,” the king said. “I will request a beta senator. You’re dismissed, Haydn.”

When Haydn got to his feet, his father’s gaze fell on his dirty uniform. “How was the inspection? I trust everything is in order?”

Haydn smiled, a cocky smile that hurt his cheeks a little. “Naturally, Father.”

Bowing to the king, he strode out of the room, exuding confidence he didn’t really feel.

He allowed himself to relax only once he was in the safety of his rooms.

“Dammit,” he murmured, running a hand over his face. Not that he had been hoping for a love match, but marrying a politician from the country they had been at war with forever hadn’t been his idea of a marriage.

At least they would be a beta.

That was something.

***

Senator Royce Cleghorn knocked on the door and entered without waiting for a response.

“Ah, you are just in time, my boy!” Prime Minister Taube said, smiling widely.

Royce suppressed a surge of irritation. He was thirty-six years old; hardly a boy.

“Your Excellency,” he said evenly.

“None of that, son! Call me Caius, as all my friends do. Take a seat.”

Royce sat down and looked at the prime minister expectantly, displaying patience he didn’t feel.

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve asked you to come,” Taube said.

Royce just nodded. The prime minister could talk all day if he was given the smallest encouragement. Sometimes Royce couldn’t help but think the man was a babbling fool, except a fool wouldn’t remain the head of the Kadarian government for two decades. Caius Taube had a sharp mind and equally sharp instincts, contrary to his friendly, harmless demeanor.

“How long have we known each other, my boy?”

“Over a decade, Your Excellency.”

Taube hummed thoughtfully. “Indeed. Time flies, doesn’t it? I suppose that’s life. It seems only yesterday you became the youngest senator in history.”

At times like this, Royce almost thought Taube suspected him and that was why he annoyed him on purpose, testing his patience and waiting for Royce to give himself away. Despite Taube’s seemingly warm attitude, there was no love lost between them. He knew Taube was wary of his growing influence and power in the Senate; he would have to have been a fool not to be, especially considering the upcoming elections next year.

Royce breathed through his nose, carefully. The prime minister was an alpha, and his scent never failed to aggravate Royce a little, which was a normal enough reaction, but that day the man’s scent was stronger than usual. Taube was worried about something. Or excited. It was hard to tell. Royce’s scent-blocker messed with his own senses, too, making them duller—something he usually didn’t mind at all, but now he would have liked to be able to determine Taube’s intentions through his scent.

But that would have been too easy. He hadn’t gotten as far as he had by relying on his instincts.

So he remained calm and waited. Taube would get to the point eventually.

And eventually, he did.

“You were there when I told the Senate about the ultimatum the Galactic Council had given us,” Taube said, looking at him intently. His gaze was serious now. “So I will not bore you with the particulars again. You’re one of the few senators who actually understand the seriousness of the situation.”

Royce said nothing.

Taube sighed. “I know most of the Senate doesn’t trust the Pelugians to actually maintain the peace. That’s why I suggested a diplomatic marriage between a prominent member of the Senate and someone from Pelugia’s nobility. To my surprise, the Galactic Council representative supported my idea, and he already secured King Stefan’s agreement.”

“That’s good,” Royce said. As someone whose estate was close to the border between Pelugia and Kadar, he had always been an outspoken supporter of peace.

Taube nodded. “Indeed. King Stefan’s only condition was that I must choose a beta to represent Kadar.”

Royce’s blood pressure spiked. “Your Excellency?”

The prime minister looked him in the eyes. “I’m asking you to do it for your country, son. You know better than anyone how ravaged Kadar is by this never-ending war.”

Royce’s first instinct was to refuse.

Of course he wanted to refuse.

But then he thought of his mother’s red-rimmed, fearful eyes every time Royce’s younger brother failed to message her from the front line. He thought of his pretty omega sister, living in the house so close to the border that it could be overrun by the Pelugian army any day. Royce’s lands were heavily guarded, but security guards would be nothing against an army. And one day the army would come. They had just been lucky that the Pelugia-Kadar border was very long and all the major battles happened away from Cleghorn—so far. One day, their luck would run out.

But peace, if it actually held this time, could put an end to it once and for all.

He’d made bigger sacrifices for his family. What was one more?

Royce’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I will do it, Your Excellency.”

Taube grinned widely. “I knew I could count on you, Royce. Truth be told, you were the only candidate I could think of who is a beta and is high-profile enough to marry a prince. Everyone in the Senate respects you, and the press loves you—”

“A prince?” Royce cut him off, stiffening. “You mean Prince Haydn Schaefer?”

Taube blinked. “Of course! Do you know any other prince? The Schaefers have only one prince since King Stefan’s eldest son died.” He cocked his head to the side and studied him with shrewd eyes. “Is something the matter? Do you have any objections to Prince Haydn?”

Royce barely suppressed an instinctive growl, already regretting agreeing to this without asking who the other party was.

Haydn Schaefer. He was known by many names. His reputation preceded him, even in Kadar, maybe especially in Kadar. The Golden General. The Death Bringer.

And an alpha.

“No objections,” Royce ground out, because any objections to marrying the prince would sound ridiculous—and suspicious. Prince Haydn was a media darling. He was exceptionally handsome, athletic, and by all accounts, he possessed a brilliant mind for strategy. It was mostly thanks to his efforts the Pelugian army was able to secure six Kadarian counties in the past few years.

A beta wouldn’t have any objections to marrying such a fine specimen of an alpha.

The problem was, he was no beta.

But he couldn’t backtrack now. His political career would be ruined if he admitted that his presentation documents had been falsified—not to mention the legal trouble his mother would be in. No matter how angry he was with her, Royce had to protect her.

His mind racing, Royce looked down at his hands. He found his fingers clenched so hard his knuckles stood out white against his sun-bronzed skin. He breathed in deeply, forcing himself to relax.

It wasn’t necessarily a disaster. It would be a political marriage, a means for good publicity, and meant to convince the hesitating senators that the peace would be sustainable—and to ensure that the Pelugians wouldn’t stick a knife in their backs.

So in theory, the prince’s designation didn’t change anything.

Royce nearly laughed at himself. Who was he kidding? A marriage between two alphas was unheard of for a reason, and it wasn’t because alphas couldn’t want other alphas. Although Royce wasn’t one of them, there were alphas that were attracted to other alphas. It was very rare and taboo, but such things happened. The problem was, sustaining an alpha-alpha relationship was impossible. It was biologically difficult for two alphas to live together without trying to establish dominance over their partner, and such rare relationships tended to quickly turn violent, abusive, and toxic. Considering that the alpha in question was an enemy general responsible for countless deaths in his country and Royce already disliked the man before even meeting him, this was a disaster in waiting. And since he was pretending to be a beta, everyone would expect him to defer to his alpha husband—or at least the traditionalists would expect it. Not that Royce gave a fuck about their opinions.

As far as the traditionalists were concerned, an alpha was supposed to mate only an omega and keep the omega pregnant year in and year out. They would consider a marriage between a male alpha and a male beta a waste, since they couldn’t have children the traditional way.

“I’m surprised Prince Haydn requested a beta,” Royce said. “From everything I’ve heard of him, he sounds like a traditionalist.”

Taube shrugged. “I’ve heard rumors that he likes the challenge of betas and considers omegas too easy.”

Royce almost laughed. It was kind of ironic. If Haydn Schaefer liked a challenge, he was going to be in for a nice surprise—if they managed not to kill each other within a week.

“All right,” Royce said, getting to his feet. “When is the wedding?”

Taube smiled. “In two days.”

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