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.