2. Chapter 2
Chapter two
Alexander
X ander woke to the unwelcome brightness of the midmorning sun. He cracked open one eyelid to see the blurry shape of his packmate, best friend, and chief advisor, Greyson Valentine, opening every damn curtain in his bedroom. The sunlight glinted off the blanket of snow outside, making it ten times brighter. Xander growled, but stopped abruptly when a stab of pain in his head made him wince. He groaned and massaged his temples. What the hell did he drink last night?
Silently, Grey set a bottle of water next to a bottle of aspirin on the nightstand. Xander struggled into a sitting position, the world tilting sickeningly as he did so. He took the painkillers, downing half the water in a few gulps. His mouth felt sticky and gross, and the water threatened to come back up for a few moments before settling uncomfortably in his gut. Grey watched him, saying nothing.
Xander sighed. His packmate was obviously pissed, which meant he must’ve fucked up pretty badly this time. If Grey was this angry, then Hunter would be livid. And if his dads caught wind of trouble…
“What did I do?” he asked. His voice was raw and hoarse.
Grey gave him a disapproving look that rivaled the ones Xander’s parents had perfected over the years since he’d come of age. He stood straight and stiff, exuding a classic elegance Xander could never quite pull off. Not that he tried. Quite the opposite, actually. Xander tried his best to be as inelegant as possible at every opportunity.
“What did you do?” Grey repeated the question with a hollow laugh. “In one night, you completely tanked my efforts to rehabilitate your image. You said you were going to start taking your responsibilities more seriously, Alexander.”
Xander groaned. “You sound just like my dads. I was just blowing off a little steam. I haven’t been out in a month!”
Grey closed his eyes, visibly calming himself before speaking again. “I’m not going to give you the speech about being heir or even lecture you on your duty as pack leader because it’s obvious you don’t give a fuck about either of those things.”
Xander winced. Grey was super pissed if he was swearing. Xander could feel cold fury pulsing through the pack bond. Though Grey was the youngest of their pack, he had an old-fashioned moral code that included limited use of profanity. In their younger days when they’d shared the occasional woman, Xander had been shocked to hear how dirty Grey could talk in the bedroom. With his posh British accent, he even made the word fuck sound classy.
“We’re supposed to be friends, Xander,” Grey said, disappointment dripping from every word. “We’re packmates. The things you do reflect negatively on us. You’re a prince and you’re white. You can get away with these immature antics. Hunter and I don’t have that same privilege.”
Xander opened his mouth, then shut it again. He hadn’t even thought of that. His packmates’ sires were white Americans, but Hunter’s mom was Chinese and Greyson’s mother was Black British. In Eastern Europe, they both stood out in a crowd. When they’d bonded, his packmates knew they were committing to serving alongside him in Avondale for life. He’d dragged them to a place where bigoted idiots might make assumptions about them based on their appearance, and he was making them look bad, feeding right into the stereotypes.
Xander felt a familiar shame. He was always letting people down. Despite the fact that he’d worked tirelessly to ensure people set the bar really low for him, he still kept missing the mark. He knew full well that everyone thought his packmates were just like him, but the truth was they’d stopped partying with him years ago and were obviously every bit as sick of his shit as the rest of the world.
Xander, Hunter, and Greyson had been friends for a long time. It’d been inevitable that they would form a pack. As a prince, it would’ve been impossible for Xander not to take the role of pack leader. But they all knew he wasn’t the right choice. Not that anyone would ever admit it aloud.
Xander didn’t have Greyson’s keen intelligence or Hunter’s coolheaded competence. He wasn’t effortlessly charming or exceptionally talented like his packmates. He just happened to be born into a position of power. Power he didn’t want.
“You used your bark to get away from Hunter last night, put yourself in danger, and made a complete fool of yourself and us.” Grey crossed the room, gazing out a window at the fat, falling snowflakes as if he couldn’t even stand to look at Xander anymore. “If you’re not going to actually lead us, the least you could do is not abuse your position. Enjoy the luxuries of being prince and then king if that’s all you want out of life. We’ll handle the hard stuff. And if you’re not going to help, at least stay out of the fucking way.”
Grey strode toward the door, not looking back. Xander felt the familiar ache in his chest, the knot of anxiety just below his sternum that was a constant reminder of his inevitable failure. He’d actually used the power of alpha command to escape his security detail. Hunter must’ve been completely humiliated. And God only knew what Xander had gotten into once he gave Hunter the slip. His memory was a jumble of hazy, disordered images, none of them flattering.
“I’m sorry,” Xander mumbled, knowing it wasn’t enough.
Grey paused, his hand on the doorknob. He didn’t look back, but his voice was slightly warmer when he spoke again. “You’re expected to tea with our guests. Mina sent you the day’s itinerary.”
Then he was gone, leaving Xander alone with his guilt.
For once, Xander was grateful for the team of people paid to wait on him. He usually sent them away because it felt stupid to need help dressing himself, but today he was happy to swallow his pride and let them do their jobs. Thanks to their efforts, he was presentable in time to be only a little late for tea.
Xander strode into his mother’s parlor, trying to feign his usual nonchalance. In actuality, the last thing he wanted to do was play prince. He’d much rather spend the day wallowing in his guilt and nursing his hangover. He hadn’t seen Hunter yet, which meant his head of security was avoiding him, which meant he was mad as all hell.
Xander couldn’t think about that at the moment. Right now, he had to appear charming and not like someone just awakened from a booze and molly induced coma. Every head turned as he strode into the room. The guests stood and bowed, while Xander’s parents and sister nodded in acknowledgment. They didn’t look pissed, so there might be a chance they hadn’t heard about his escapades. Then again, his parents were royals—they were incredibly skilled at hiding their true feelings in public.
Xander didn’t have time to give it much more thought. Suddenly, he caught a scent that froze him in his tracks. It was his favorite parts of winter, but with a spicy edge, like a warm cup of tea. Peppermint and cinnamon and ginger and perfect, perfect, perfect.
Inexorably, his eyes sought the source and were met with a stare that both chilled and electrified him simultaneously. Cat-like green eyes in a pretty brown face that instantly conjured blurry flashes of the previous night. A woman in the guest quarters. He’d vomited.
Fuck.
The other shoe dropped just before his mother spoke. Xander recognized the heart-shaped face, cupid’s bow lips, and spank bank body. His parents’ overindulgent birthday gift for his kid sister. A private performance from the princess of unoriginal, overprocessed, soulless streaming garbage music that silly teen omegas like Natalya thought was profound.
“So pleased you were able to join us, dear.” The queen’s tone held a subtle warning to mind his manners. “This is Destiny Duvalle and her assistant, Sasha Sanchez. Miss Sanchez, Miss Duvalle, my son Prince Alexander Stepanov.”
Xander forced himself to smile as he moved to take the popstar’s hand. Though she smiled and murmured something graceful, her eyes remained cold. She snatched her hand away quickly, as if touching him repulsed her.
Xander narrowed his eyes. Women were not repulsed by Prince Alexander Stepanov. Not even stuck up, famous omegas.
“Miss Duvalle, a pleasure,” he said in his most charming tone. “It’s so kind of you to come all this way to make my sister’s birthday special. I trust you’ve found Avondale to your liking?”
Xander took his seat beside Natalya, which was coincidentally also across from Destiny Duvalle. Everyone reseated themselves, and a servant stepped forward to pour his tea. Xander watched their guest formulate her answer over a long sip from her own teacup.
“Your town is beautiful from the sky, your highness,” she said with a bright, magazine cover smile that still didn’t reach her eyes. “Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep well at first. A hazard of time zone hopping, I suppose. So, I slept a bit late today and haven’t gotten to see much of Avondale just yet.”
The singer’s voice held a sharp edge that no one seemed to notice but Xander. His sister chimed in enthusiastically, steering the conversation away from him, but Destiny Duvalle held his gaze for a long moment with unmistakable disgust. It was obvious that his fuzzy memories of meeting her last night were only part of the story. He clearly hadn’t made a good first impression.
Not that Xander cared what some vapid celebrity thought of him, but there was a threat in her look. If she mentioned their previous encounter in front of his family, he’d be in for a tedious conversation that he wanted very much to avoid. He needed to get her alone and apologize, flatter her, make her feel special. He’d smooth over whatever he’d said to offend her and appeal to her vanity. He’d say whatever it took to make sure she wouldn’t let his antics slip to his family. Or to anyone else, for that matter.
“The press will join you and Princess Natalya for your tour of the castle and grounds,” one of Xander’s fathers was saying. “Then we’ll give you some time to rest and prepare before Natalya’s friends join us for your performance this evening. You’ll be unofficially kicking off our Christmas festival, which starts tomorrow and has always been the prince and princess’s favorite time of year.”
Xander tried not to roll his eyes. The Christmas festival hadn’t been his favorite time of year since he was a child. He knew now that it was just another excuse to show off and fill the castle with self-important politicians and wealthy citizens that he was supposed to impress. The Christmas lights and holiday delicacies had lost their appeal when he’d grown old enough to be included in all the gladhanding that was the real purpose of these events.
“Did you invite Destiny to the festival?” Natalya demanded, turning beseeching blue eyes on their parents. “She’d love it! She said herself that she’s tired and jetlagged. If she stayed one more night, she would be here for the best part of the festivities!”
Xander saw the popstar stiffen. He hid a grin. Destiny Duvalle looked like she’d rather eat glass than stay in Avondale another night. It was probably too boring for her. Xander knew the way musicians partied. An unbonded omega musician who looked like Destiny Duvalle? She probably went to the wildest parties with the most exclusive guest lists. He knew she’d already turned down quite a few packs who wanted to claim her, including one of popular American celebrities and another of a prince Xander had met once or twice. Obviously, the media was right in dubbing her an ice princess. Princes and celebrities couldn’t thaw that icy heart. She probably had plans to catch someone even richer. Xander could imagine her batting those gorgeous green siren eyes at some oil baron. He tamped down his sudden annoyance, focusing on the star’s efforts to escape Natalya’s invitation.
“I couldn’t impose,” Destiny demurred, exchanging a glance with her assistant, who only smiled brightly, despite the desperation in the popstar’s eyes. “Besides, I’d hate to keep Sasha and Damon from home so close to Christmas.”
Natalya pouted and Xander had to hide a grin in his teacup. Destiny Duvalle was screwed. His sister didn’t know the meaning of the word no , because their parents had never successfully used it on her. They’d exhausted all their discipline and resolve on Xander. The princess might be almost sixteen, but she wasn’t above throwing a tantrum to get her way.
“It wouldn’t be an imposition at all!” Natalya exclaimed. “And Sasha and Damon will love the festival, right Sasha? We’ll get them lots of Avondalian souvenirs to take home to their families. Sasha and Mina can change your flight plan to leave tomorrow night. You have to see the lighting of the trees! It’s one of the things Avondale is most famous for. Please?”
Destiny Duvalle opened and closed her mouth helplessly, turning wide eyes on her assistant as if expecting help. The bubbly little beta smiled back broadly. Xander could see the complete obliviousness in her guileless expression.
“That sounds wonderful!” Sasha gushed. “I read all about the festival online and I totally wanted to see those lights! I’ll arrange everything.”
“Perfect!” Natalya replied.
“Perfect.” Destiny Duvalle smiled her mouth-only smile.
Xander snickered into his teacup, disguising it as a cough. Destiny Duvalle’s moss green eyes snapped to his, filled with naked hatred. Xander grinned back, perversely gratified by her irritation.
“Perfect,” he agreed.