THE MISTAKEN ALPHA [BOOK 1]

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." Dylan 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 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. Some very powerful Inner Core planets 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 ourselves. 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 achieve peace with Kadar.

All attempts at peace over the decades had failed, the war resuming within months. His father scowled again.

"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.

"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 Perugia. My hair 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 a 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 feel. He allowed himself to relax only once he was in the safety of his room.

"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 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 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 understand the seriousness of the situation."

Royce said nothing. Taube sighed.

"I know most of the Senate doesn't trust the Pelugians to 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 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, and 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, some alphas 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."

Haydn stared at himself in the mirror, eyeing his new suit critically.

The dark fabric hugged his broad shoulders and accentuated his trim waist.

Few would probably guess how much effort he put into keeping himself in such shape.

Haydn was naturally rather lean, but his intense training and years of war had shaped his physique into one most alphas were born with.

He wondered idly if he would become leaner again if the war ended. Shaking the errant thought off, Haydn ran a hand through his carefully styled hair and smiled at his vanity.

There was no use "prettying himself up" for this, as Devlin would say. This was just a political arrangement. His future spouse wasn't going to care what he looked like. A knock on the door made him flinch.

"Your Highness, His Majesty, and the Queen are waiting for you in the plane."

"Thank you, I'm coming." The flight to Citra, Kadar's capital, didn't take long, but it was excruciating nonetheless.

Haydn was forced to listen to his father's angry tirade about how the wedding ceremony should have taken place in their kingdom and how humiliating and dangerous it was that they had to travel into enemy territory.

"Father, the Kadarians are hardly going to attack us in front of the Galactic Council representative," Haydn said in his most patient voice, but of course, his father ignored his words.

As usual. Haydn had never been more relieved to get off a plane.

He loved his father and had looked up to him as a boy, but as an adult, he could tolerate him only in small doses.

There were too many things he disagreed with him on, things he had to keep his mouth shut about because King Stefan wasn't interested in opinions besides his own.

As the helicopter took them from the airport to the Opal House, Haydn looked at the city with interest.

He'd never been to Citra before. He had to admit the sleek, minimalist architecture of Kadar's capital was very pleasing to the eye.

The Opal House, the prime minister's official residence, was a tall building in the center of the city. As the helicopter landed on its roof, Haydn took a deep breath, his heart beating fast.

Here goes nothing. He hadn't expected to recognize the beta the Kadarians had picked to represent their country.

But one look at the tall man who stood beside Prime Minister Taube was enough for Haydn to place him.

Senator Royce Cleghorn was one of the few Kadarian politicians who were well-known even in Perugia.

In politics from a young age, he was the leader of the Liberal party, famous for the single-minded pursuit of his goals.

He was rumored to be the current favorite to win the prime minister position next year. Haydn wasn't sure how true those rumors were. The Kadarian political system was a confusing one.

There used to be an elected president, but after the last president was removed from the position with a vote of no-confidence, the constitution had been rewritten, and the prime minister was now elected through a combination of a popular vote and the Senate voting.

Haydn wasn't sure of the particulars, but he had heard that Royce Cleghorn was immensely popular both in the Senate and among the general population, so unless something happened to destroy his reputation, Cleghorn was likely going to be the next Head of State.

When Cleghorn's black eyes met his, Haydn barely stopped himself from tensing up.

It was unexpectedly difficult to hold the politician's gaze despite the man exuding the inoffensive, neutral scent of a beta.

His scent thickened, as it usually did when he was anxious, and Haydn could see a barely noticeable grimace cross Cleghorn's face.

He didn't care much for Haydn's scent. Haydn could see something like dislike emanating from Cleghorn, a dislike that made very little sense until Haydn remembered that the man's lands were close to the border. Right.

The owners of the border lands tended to dislike him.

For a reason. Pushing the uncomfortable thought away, Haydn told himself it was a good thing.

If Cleghorn disliked him, their marriage would be on paper only, and Haydn wouldn't have to share a bed with a stranger. Not that Cleghorn was unattractive.

Far from it. Royce Cleghorn was a very handsome man. Dark hair, dark eyes, a finely shaped mouth, and a strong jaw.

He was the type of beta Haydn usually hooked up with tall and broad-shouldered, with a muscular chest and long, powerful legs.

Theoretically, he wouldn't mind having sex with him except Cleghorn didn't share that opinion, his body language oddly aggressive.

Cleghorn gave him a stiff nod and clasped Haydn's hand a little too hard.

Suppressing the urge to crush it back, Haydn met the other man's gaze and smiled.

He totally could be the better man. Cleghorn's black eyes narrowed a little.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Senator Cleghorn," Haydn said in a calm voice, still smiling.

Something flickered in Cleghorn's eyes. His jaw relaxed slightly, his broad shoulders losing some of their tension.

"The pleasure is mine, Your Highness," he said, letting go of his hand. He had a very deep voice.

Haydn cleared his throat a little and looked around the room. Prime Minister Taube seemed shorter than he did on the news.

He was speaking to Haydn's father and a tall, regal man who smelled strange. His confusion must have been obvious, because Cleghorn clarified quietly,

"That's the Galactic Council representative, Lord Chancellor Ksar'ngh'chaali." He tripped over the name and sighed.

"Or Lord Ksar, as he allowed us to call him because we kept butchering his name." Ah. So that man was an off-worlder. It explained why he smelled off.

Although the vast majority of the races in the galaxy looked similar enough, there were still enough differences in every species' biology to make every race unique.

"His people don't have designations?" Haydn murmured, glancing back at Cleghorn and quickly looking away.

He didn't know why this man was making him so uncomfortable. Cleghorn shook his head.

"He's a Calluvian. Be careful with your thoughts. He's a telepath." Haydn suppressed a shudder of unease. There were not all that many telepathic species in the Union, thank fuck.

He could protect himself from physical weapons and brute power. The telepathic onslaught was another matter entirely.

He found himself taking an involuntary step away from the telepathy and right into Cleghorn's personal space.

Cleghorn stiffened, his neutral scent spiking with something that smelled like the air after a thunderstorm. The side of Haydn's neck prickled.

He was suddenly very aware of the fact that his neck was bare.

He quickly stepped away from Cleghorn, unease churning in his gut. Fuck.

He had no idea why this beta put him so on edge.

Haydn Schaefer was somehow exactly what he had expected and nothing like it at the same time.

Royce tried not to frown as he eyed the prince, who was speaking to King Stefan across the room.

"If you keep glaring at him, people are going to notice," Belinda said, touching his arm.

"Stop glaring." "I'm not glaring," Royce said stiffly. His little sister rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Stop staring, then. You're being rude." She looked at him curiously.

"That's not like you." She was right: it wasn't. Royce forced himself to look away.

He shoved his clenched fists into the pockets of his suit pants and took a deep breath. Calm. He could be calm. This wasn't him.

"You're lucky, brother," Belinda said.

"He's very charming. And so handsome." Royce smiled ruefully at his younger sister.

"Of course, you would think that. You're an omega." Belinda smacked him on the arm, grinning good-naturedly.

"I resent that! Just because he's an alpha, it doesn't mean I must find him attractive. He does smell good, though." Royce certainly didn't share that opinion. Haydn Schaefer's scent made his hackles rise more than any other alphas did.

The prince's strong scent, a mix of leather, iron, and campfire, rubbed Royce the wrong way, making him want to posture and prove himself superior. The primitive urge only irritated him.

He had always prided himself on never participating in the alpha male posturing. He wasn't an uncivilized animal.

He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd reacted so badly to another alpha. Fuck, this marriage was going to be a disaster.

The only saving grace was the fact that the prince was unexpectedly mild-tempered for an alpha.

He hadn't reacted to Royce's instinctive posturing at all. He just smiled neutrally and seemed... nice. It threw Royce off balance.

He had expected a typical arrogant alpha. Instead, he was the one who had ended up acting like the dreaded cliché.

"Admit it, he's very attractive," Belinda said, elbowing him. Royce glanced at the prince. "He's too tall." And too alpha.

"His height is perfect, you ass. He's your height!" Royce grimaced. He didn't bother telling his baby sister that he was attracted to petite omegas half his size.

Although Belinda knew he was an alpha, Royce often thought that she forgot about his real designation or didn't give it much thought.

He was just an older brother to her, not a sexual being or his designation.

"Sometimes alphas fall for alphas," Belinda murmured in a very quiet voice, proving that she did remember his designation after all.

"Don't be so closed-minded, brother. Maybe it'll work out." Royce suppressed another grimace. It wasn't a matter of him being closed-minded or old-fashioned.

He wasn't. He was the head of the Liberal Party for a reason.

Unfortunately, his tastes were very traditional: he simply didn't find alphas attractive.

All they managed to provoke in him was alertness or dislike usually. His reaction to Haydn Schaefer was more extreme, for some bizarre reason.

"He has a gorgeous smile," Belinda said. "Then maybe you should marry him," Royce said dryly.

Belinda laughed. Kissing him on the cheek, she walked away, toward their mother, who was speaking with the marriage officiant.

Or rather, a marriage officiant, because there were two of them a Kadarian and a Pelugian so that the marriage would be recognized by both country's laws.

Royce looked away. It was hard to believe that in less than an hour, he would be a married man. It all seemed to be happening too quickly.

On the other hand, there was no point in delaying the inevitable. Lord Ksar'ngh'chaali was impatient to get it over with and leave their planet.

Royce had heard that he was a recently married man himself. He was probably eager to return home to his spouse.

Unlike him, Lord Ksar'ngh'chaali likely looked forward to getting into his spouse's bed. Royce glanced at his future husband and tried to convince himself that he was attractive.

He couldn't. Prince Haydn was too tall, too muscular, and too alpha for his tastes. Though to be fair, he did have a nice mouth. A very pretty mouth. It was full and very pink.

His blue eyes were rather nice, too: an unusual color that was so bright and warm it would never be mistaken for gray. His hands were good, with long, aristocratic fingers that seemed too elegant to hold a weapon.

Which only proved how deceptive appearances could be. That man was a killer. Averting his gaze, Royce told himself to be rational.

They had been at war. It wasn't Prince Haydn's fault that he had killed enemy soldiers during the war.

Royce had to stop allowing his alpha instincts to affect his judgment. He had to at least try. He was a rational man. He was more than his designation.

He didn't have to be attracted to his husband; tolerating him would be enough. It would be a marriage on paper only. He could suppress his instincts. He could do it. He could do it for his country.

For his family. It had been nearly eight years since he'd last seen his younger brother. If the war truly ended, Aksel would finally come home. That was as good an incentive as any.

He had to try to get along with Haydn Schaefer instead of imagining pushing him to his knees and making him submit. The irritating part was, Royce wasn't even sure what that submission would entail.

His body just felt on edge, his alpha instincts making it hard to think rationally. Get a grip. This isn't you, dammit.