Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 257

Chapter 37: Awake

Myla

Vanilla, but not the essence Mom used when she baked those chocolate chip cookies I liked. It was sharp, fresh, like the long strings of vanilla beans sometimes sold in the market. I sniffed. There was something else with it, floral, like the heavy scent of the magnolia trees when they were full of mature blooms that had been soaked with rain. Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

I blinked into the yellow light, sniffing deeply again, then went rigid as I realized what was happening.

I felt electric, my chest tightening with sudden anticipation. This was it. This is what I had been waiting for; it had to be! My mate was near. Very near

But where the hell was I? My head ached painfully, the skin on the back of my neck tight as I tried to move my head to the side, my vision blurred. I was not at home. The floor beneath the bed where I laid was pitching back and forth in slow, rolling motion. But that smell was dominating all of my senses at once.

Where was he? Nearby, for certain.

I reached up to rub sleep from my eyes, groaning softly as my arms ached and tingled from lack of use. Blinking into the light again, I saw a wiry old man, his face drawn in deep concern and heavily lined with age..

“Oh,” I said quietly, only slightly disappointed. I would love him regardless, right? He was my mate, after all. Everyone said the Moon Goddess worked in mysterious ways.

“Cleo, she’s awake! Look!” A deep, honeyed male voice rang out in the stuffy room. I turned my head, seeing my mom step forward with a wide, grateful smile stretched across her face and tears rolling

down her lashes.

“Mom?”

“I’m here, sweetheart. Oh, thank you, Goddess!”

“What-”

Suddenly, my vision was filled with gold. I blinked again, surprised, pushing my head back against the pillow to get a better angle of whatever, whoever, was blocking my field of sight.

“Nice to finally meet you, darlin’,” he said, his golden-green eyes sparkling with pleasure. His golden hair was falling around his face, which was deeply tanned, and his wide mouth was stretched into a beautiful smile, showcasing his straight, white teeth. He was gorgeous, the most delicious thing I had ever seen. And he smelled good, like really REALLY good.

Then he touched me, his fingers gently running down the length of my forearm. Electricity. Fire. Pure, unaltered desire.

Oh, take that Natasha Blaine, I thought with mirth. She had found her mate at the last social while I had gone home empty-handed and desperately hungover. Natasha’s mate was balding and had smelled strongly of ale and onions when she showed him off during the market, stopping at my booth to gloat.

But mine?

“Holy

shit…” I breathed, looking up at him.

“Myla!” Mom hissed, her voice twisted in shock and embarrassment. But I only had eyes for the beautiful man hovering over me, his eyes alight with something I could only describe as joy.

Take that, Natasha!I thought, my mind going over how I was going to tell her, how I was going to flaunt my perfect, divinely beautiful match.

But then reality came crashing down around me, the pitch of the room and the dull ache on the back of my head suddenly became too much. I felt a little sick, wondering why all of these people were in my room.

My gaze lingered on the golden man for a second longer before I broke away, turning to the side to see the wiry old man, whose own eyes had narrowed as he tilted his head, looking over my expression.

“Alright, we need to give her some space now-” he said, but his voice was drowned out by the scream that erupted from my throat as frantically began to look around at the small, windowless room.

“Where-where–”

“Myla, honey, it’s alright. You’re okay!” Mom was clutching my hands together, stopping me from flailing as I turned my head from side to side. The golden man had my legs and was holding me down against the bed, his face etched with concern.

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Chapter 37: Awake

“Don’t give her that!” he snapped, his teeth bared as the old man appeared at my side with a syringe, the needle gleaming the light of a single oil lantern swinging over our heads. The old man backed away; his brow knitted in frustration.

“Myla, listen to me- Mom began, her eyes round and full of tears, “you’ve been asleep for a few days honey. You’re safe. Do you remember anything?”

“Remember-remember what?”

“Keaton, honey, can you go get Maeve? Please?” Mom let my hands fall and sat on the side of the bed, reaching out to take my cheek in her hand.

.

“Aye, I will. Don’t give her any meds. Not unless I’m here,” Keaton stole a steely glance at the old man before turning away and sprinting out of the room, the door swinging as the room rolled from side to side.

“I’m going to be sick!” I cried as I sat up straight, my vision blurring as Mom held my face between her hands.

“Breathe, sweetheart. That’s it. In through your nose.”

It smelled like salt. The room was clammy and cold. Hooked around, watching as the old man stood in the corner, taking apart the syringe on a small counter.

“Where are we? The room’s moving,”

“We’re on a boat, Myla. But it’s okay,”

“My head hurts really bad!”

“I know it does. I know. What do you remember? What is your last memory?”

I closed my eyes, swallowing against the bile threatening to rise in my throat. What did I remember?

Heat. I remembered heat. I woke up and kicked the covers down with my feet and then I couldn’t breathe.

“The house?” I asked, looking up at Mom as she stroked my hair away from my face. “There was a fire. I was in bed… -I don’t remember leaving, but you were there and telling me we had to get out.”

“Yes, you’re right. That’s exactly what happened”

“Then we were on the street and…”

“Myla! Oh, thank the Goddess!” Maeve burst into the room, leaping forward and throwing her arms around me in a tight squeeze. She took the breath out of me, literally, and I wheezed as she inadvertently tightened her grip as Keaton tried to pull her off of my body.

“Get ahold of yourself, Princess!” Keaton snapped, his face reddened with effort. He was breathing heavily and ran his fingers through his hair as he glared at Maeve. He looked down at me, his face softening. “Lots of stairs,” he panted, winking at me.

“Ugh!” Maeve groaned as she watched the exchange, shaking her head at me. “Seriously, Myla? You feel it, don’t you?”

I nodded briskly, not taking my eyes off of Keaton. Oh, yeah, I felt it.

Mom gave Maeve a look, but not the playful look I was expecting. There was a severe hurt behind her eyes, something I had never seen before. “What’s wrong?” I asked, looking from Mom to Maeve. Keaton sat on the edge of the bed, glancing at Maeve expectantly.

Someone else was lingering in the doorway, his figure shadowed by the crowd. He was watching us, shifting uncomfortably until he caught Keaton’s eye.

It was not in the room now with so many people. I felt queasy again as I watched them all look at each other, willing one another to be the one to speak

“Why are we on a boat?” I finally asked, settling my gaze on Maeve. She was on the edge of tears, and the man behind her moved out of the doorway suddenly, resting his hand on her shoulder. She shook it off.

“We’re going somewhere safe, Myla,” Mom said, her voice quivering.

“That doesn’t answer my question-”

“Gemma’s dead,” Maeve said, her voice silencing the room. I felt the floor drop from beneath me.

“What?” I choked, a nervous laugh tickling the back of my throat. “When? How-”

The dark-haired man stepped forward, and I instantly recognized him as the man I found with Maeve in the market weeks ago, the one who had left without barely a word. The man with the strange eyes. Aaron, of Red Lakes.

What were we doing on a boat with Maeve’s breeder? And Gemma was dead? None of it made any sense.

“My name is Troy,” he said, standing next to Keaton.

Then he told me everything.

And I sat there, listening, totally incapable of being able to process what had happened. Aaron hadn’t actually been Aaron of Red Lakes at all. His name was Troy. He was someone named Romero’s grandson. Gemma was dead, and it was likely Alpha Ernest was as well. Drogomor had fallen to Alpha Damian of Poldesse, a pack I hadn’t even known existed. Damian wanted Maeve for something. He would be coming after us. We were running.

I looked over at Maeve, taking her appearance in for the first time. She had her hair piled on the top of her head, and she was wearing a loose linen top, the sleeves too long and rolled up to her elbows. She was also wearing an apron that was dusted with flour and other grime.

The princess was here no more, I realized, reaching back to touch the wound on the back of my head, my fingers gingerly stroking the thick sutures.

The world was upside down.

How long had I been asleep?

Everyone started talking at once, and suddenly, the room felt hot and claustrophobic. I grimaced uncontrollably, closing my eyes against the yellow light of the lantern swinging above my head.

I felt Keaton’s touch on my leg, squeezing gently, reassuring me that everything was okay.

“That’s enough! She needs to rest!” the doctor said sternly, silencing the room. I kept my eyes closed and listened to the sound of bodies shifting uncomfortably in the small space. Maeve leaned down and kissed my forehead, smelling like bread yeast and other cooking ingredients.

Mom took my hand and squeezed it, and then I heard the sound of footsteps as everyone began to leave. I opened my eyes to Keaton, a

sober smile on his lips.

“I think you’ll be more comfortable resting in our quarters,” he said casually, glancing over at the doctor.

“Our quarters?”

“Well, yes. You’re the lady of the ship, darlin’,” he waved his hand in a short circle. “It’s all yours. Every inch”.

+++

Keaton pulled the curtains open, revealing a vivid fuchsia colored sunset sparkling across the water. I stood next to him, staring out over the horizon in awe. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered, unable to take my eyes off the endless water.

But in truth, his quarters were more beautiful than the vibrant sunset. It was colorful and loud, with busy floral wallpaper and trim painted gold. A four-poster bed was the centerpiece of the room, with a heavy red velvet canopy and gold tassels dangling and swaying gently as the boat rocked in the waves. Art lined the walls, and he had several large potted plants tucked along the windows and in the corners of the room.

I looked around, running the tips of my finger along the edge of a large couch dressed in the same red velvet as the curtains on the windows and the bed’s canopy, marveling at the riches.

“You’re certainly not a minimalist,” I said, a shy smile touching my lips. He grinned, shaking his head.

“Aye, well, I live in a world of blue, you see. I would never see other colors if I didn’t make use of them elsewhere.” He leaned against the windowsill, watching as I explored the room. It wasn’t a large room by any means, just a bed and a couch and cabinets built into the far wall. The bedroom was inaccessible to the rest of the ship, the only entry point being a climb up a narrow spiral staircase that led up to his office, which had access to the upper deck.

“How did you get the bed down here?” I asked, sitting down on the couch and stroking the velvet. I was nervous, excited, and definitely still a little bit tired and wobbly. He noticed this, taking a pillow off of the bed and crossing the room in three quick strides, tucking it behind my head.

“It was placed in the room before we finished constructing the boat, actually.”

“Makes sense.” I yawned, laying back against the pillow. I felt oddly comfortable around this perfect stranger. I knew nothing about him, but somehow, I felt like I had known him all my life.

“It’s the mate bond,” he said, sitting on the other end of the couch. He lifted my feet and draped them over his lap, gently stroking my ankles.

“Did you just read my mind?” I smiled, closing my eyes to his touch.

“No,” he laughed. I opened my eyes to see his hair falling loose around his face as he looked down, running his fingers across my skin. “But I can see it in your eyes. You’re nervous, but at home with me. I feel it too.”

“What are the odds? That’s all I can think about.”

“Aye, well, I guess having the princess on board was good for something.”

“She’s being a terror, I’m guessing?” My voice seemed far away, my eyelids heavy with fatigue. It’s amazing how being knocked-out for four days can be so completely exhausting.

“That’s why she’s been put to work in the kitchen,” I could hear the smirk in his voice, “Troy’s idea, actually. I was surprised, but then I saw her trying to square up to Robbie-”

“Maeve will square up to anyone if the opportunity presents itself,” I said, opening one eye. “She can’t help it.”

“I know. I watched her trying to ruffle Robbie’s feathers for sport.”

I closed my eyes again, thinking of Robbie, the gentle giant. Then my mind wandered back to Troy’s rapidly explained account of what had happened in Mirage and the castle, the thought bringing down my mood significantly. “So, what now?” I asked soberly, anticipating the same answer I had been given only an hour before. We hide in open waters, we wait out Alpha Damian’s invasion, we hide, we wait, we hide…

“Well, Troy has a map, you see…”