Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Jules hugged his brother back, but the anxious, uneasy feeling under his skin failed to disappear. Against his will, he found himself thinking of how safe he had felt in Westcliff’s arms yesterday, as if nothing could touch him or hurt him.
Maybe having Westcliff as their alpha wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Maybe he should give him a chance.
***
Jules’s resolve to give Westcliff a chance lasted exactly until Westcliff called on them—on Liam—in the afternoon.
He didn’t know what it was about this man that made him all prickly, self-conscious, and overly critical. It was a bizarre combination of emotions, but he couldn’t help eyeing Westcliff with a judgmental, skeptical gaze as the duke engaged in small talk with Liam and Uncle Wayne.
The asshole hadn’t even glanced at him once since entering the room.
Jules crossed his arms over his chest, then uncrossed them. Picking up his tablet from the table in the corner, he sat down on the couch next to it. He stared at the screen, trying to appear engrossed in it, but nothing caught his interest. He browsed the Internet half-heartedly and scowled upon seeing all the speculation about Westcliff and Liam’s beautiful romance. Boring.
Pressing his lips together, Jules closed the local Internet and connected to the GlobalNet. But the galactic news wasn’t much more entertaining than the local news. The pictures from the wedding of Prince Jamil of Calluvia were beautiful, he supposed, but seeing other people so happy just made Jules feel more alone. He stared at Prince Jamil’s smiling face, the love that shone in his eyes as he gazed at his handsome husband, and felt a lump form in his throat. It must be nice to be beautiful, in love, and loved. It was almost comforting to know that some people got to have their fairytale happy endings and that not everyone had to be sold to old perverts just because no one else wanted them.
“Julian.”
Jules lifted his eyes, and to his mortification and horror, realized that his vision was a little blurry. He blinked rapidly and hoped Westcliff hadn’t noticed anything.
But judging by his narrow-eyed gaze, he had.
“Something wrong?” the duke said, taking a seat next to him.
Swallowing, Jules glanced over his wide shoulder but found Liam and Uncle Wayne gone. “Where are they?” he said, ignoring Westcliff’s question.
“Your brother and uncle have just left because of some issue with the Inheritance Department,” Westcliff said, his green eyes still fixed intently on him.
And they left you alone with me? Jules nearly said, before almost laughing at himself. Of course they had left them alone. Even his bigoted uncle, who considered Xeus alphas animals, clearly didn’t think that any alpha would be tempted enough by Jules to do something inappropriate to him. It was kind of hilarious. Kind of. Maybe Viscount Korf wouldn’t find him appealing, either. One could only hope.
Jules made a noncommittal sound, shifting his gaze back to his tablet.
“You’re upset.” Westcliff put a hand under his chin and tipped Jules’s face up. His expression was serious and his voice soft. “What’s wrong, brat?”
Jules’s throat became tight again. He hated that part of him wanted to bury his face in Westcliff’s neck, cling to him, and cry at the unfairness of it all. He liked to think he wasn’t a bitter or jealous person, but sometimes… Sometimes it hurt. Why did some people have everything and other people have nothing?
“Nothing,” he forced out. “My uncle just found a smashing match for me.”
Westcliff’s dark brows furrowed. “What?”
Chuckling, Jules put on a wide smile. “Viscount Korf. That is, if my uncle manages to convince the old coot that I’ll be a good bitch for breeding.”
Westcliff stared at him in silence. His gaze was kind of unnerving. Unnerving and a little exhilarating, to be honest. If there was one good thing about Westcliff, despite his arrogant ways, it was that he never made Jules feel like a piece of furniture. When he looked at you, he really looked at you, whether it was a good thing or not.
“You will not be marrying Korf,” he said at last, his voice quiet but steely. “I will not allow it.”
Jules laughed, more genuinely this time. “That’s nice of you to say, but you can’t do anything, Your Grace. If my uncle arranges the match before you marry Liam, it’ll happen.”
“Julian.”
The hand on his chin was back, forcing him to meet Westcliff’s gaze.
He’d never seen eyes so green. They were not gray-green or bluish green. They were deep, emerald green, startling in their intensity.
“I promise you, you will not have to marry Korf,” Westcliff stated flatly.
Jules pursed his trembling lips.
He had always scoffed at the notion of omegas needing reassurance from alphas, but now he was starting to believe there was some truth to it: even though Westcliff’s words weren’t any different from Liam’s, he inexplicably believed them more. The bundle of anxiety in his stomach was dissipating, and he found himself breathing deeper and steadier, unconsciously leaning his cheek into Westcliff’s touch. He despised himself for being so weak, for needing an alpha to tell him that everything would be all right, but apparently on some base, instinctive level, his stupid body believed a big, strong alpha more than it believed his own brother. Fucking pathetic.