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“You think he’s really interested?” one of the younger alphas said, looking positively crushed. Jules could sympathize.

“Who knows,” another alpha said, her gaze on the dancing couple. “But Westcliff is thirty already. He can’t sleep around forever. He’s probably thinking of settling down soon.”

Another alpha scoffed. “Please. It has little to do with his age. If the rumors are true, the king will want him to marry and produce an heir.”

The first alpha shot him a startled look. “You really think the king will disown Prince Haydn and make Westcliff the heir?”

“It’s not just a rumor,” the Marchioness of Ferhum cut in. “I’ve heard from a reliable source that the paperwork has already been drawn up. It should be announced any day now.”

A murmur of unease rippled through the group. “But he’s a Xeus,” someone said. “We have never had a Xeus on the throne. People will not be happy.”

“Which probably explains why Westcliff is suddenly expressing interest in a noble, beautiful omega,” another a
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