Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 306

Chapter 86: I Can’t Have His Child

Hanna Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

I didn’t bother to hang my coat up on the hook as I staggered through the door to the small cabin I shared with Kacidra. I tossed the coat to the floor, the thick fabric falling on the wide-plank floorboards in a wet snowy heap.

Kacidra wasn’t home. She had spent the last two nights with Pete, who was living in one of the cabins in the village. They were mates, and the connection had been intense, passionate. I saw the pattern, of course. Troy and Maeve. Ernest and Gemma. Even Keaton, the man who was the captain of the boat that both kidnapped and saw Maeve to safety, had found his mate in Maeve’s friend Myla.

Everyone on this prophesied path was finding their mates, including me. This was the definition of fate.

Apparently, Rowan and Maeve were at the center of it all. And then, there was my role.

| sunk to the floor in front of the couch, my head in my hands, and let myself cry.

I felt nothing but deep, painful guilt after listening to the unnamed old woman’s words. She was my great-aunt, my tie to Gayla, the Seer… Gayla, who must have known what my mother would become and the powers she held, the powers

she would give to one of her children.

I thought of the white roses on the temple grounds, how their

petals had littered the stone pavers after Tasia had destroyed the sanctuary. Tasia, who the people of Lycenna were afraid of but also worshiped. The same way they wanted to worship me.

The people who believed my future child would be the Moon Goddess herself.

But I didn’t have my powers any longer. I didn’t want them back. And I wouldn’t be the Goddess’s vessel of rebirth.

I peeked through my fingers, my eyes clouded with tears.

There was only one thing I could do to end the prophecy, to break the chain of events that were plaguing a family I had grown to love.

I needed to reject Rowan.

I sucked in my breath and wiped the tears from my cheeks, nodding at myself as I silently agreed to the inevitable.

But then there was a knock on the front door, and then a cold rush of air.

“Hanna? Goddess, it’s freezing in here,” Rowan crossed the threshold of the front door, shutting it firmly behind him before stalking toward the neglected wood stove.

I watched him in silence as he crouched in front of it, stoking the dying embers with pieces of kindling until a fire erupted from the ashes once again. He meticulously added pieces of split birch to the woodstove, arranging them in such a way that guaranteed a slow, hot burn. I couldn’t help but smile as | watched him, my heart squeezing in my chest.

Rowan, my Rowan.

He turned around, seeing me sitting against the foot of the couch. “What’s wrong? Are you alright? Maeve told me what happened at the castle.” He stepped forward, kneeling down in front of me and taking my chilled fingers in his.hands. “You’ re cold, Hanna.”

“I have to go home,” I whispered unsure if I meant for him to hear it or if I just needed to say the words aloud.

He looked confused, sitting back so that he faced me with his arms wrapped around his knees, ‘To Red Lakes?”

I nodded, dreading what I needed to say next.

“Why?”

“I can’t be your mate, Rowan. There’s too much… too much at stake. I can’t continue to put you and your family in danger.”

“What do you think is going to happen?” He was

expressionless, but a sadness lingered behind his eyes, something that told me he had known this conversation was coming.

“Tasia wants me as much as she wants the stones. I need to

go. I need to bring the stones with me when I do. You cannot follow.”

“I won’t allow you to do that.” The firmness in his voice sent a chill up my spine. I looked up at him, his face distorted by the strands of hair that were falling over my face.

“We can’t be together. The consequences are too great. If we have a child… that child…”

“You really believe what that senile old woman said? About our child being the second-coming of the Goddess? Come on, Hanna.”

“Why don’t you believe that could be possible after everything that’s already happened? A year ago you were just a shifter,”

“A year ago was a lifetime ago, Hanna. There is no going back now. I won’t let you run. I won’t let you sacrifice yourself for my sake.”

“Your family,”

“My family can fend for themselves. They are more than capable of defeating a single wolf. Lycenna is in shambles from what we understand. They are no longer a pack, or a cult, whatever you want to call it! Mom is seeing to the refugees for now, but they mean to continue north, over the ice-pack. What they think they’ll find there, I don’t know-”

“They’re running, Rowan. Don’t you see why? Tasia isn’t just a single wolf. She was powerful enough to mortally wound your mother. A White Queen. Imagine what she could do with the stones.”

“Maeve is the keeper of the stones, it’s not your responsibility

“You have to let me go!”

He lunged at me, pinning me to the couch. His face was only inches from mine, his blue eyes pleading with my own. No, they seemed to say. No, no, no.

He took my face between his hands and kissed me, softly,

brushing his lips against mine. I fought the urge to cry as he pulled away, not wanting it to end even though I knew it had

to.

But he kissed me again, this time harder, the kiss needy and final. I opened my mouth to his, letting him pull me close and wrap me in a desperate embrace.

“I can’t let you go,” he said in a raspy voice, his words tickling the skin on my neck. His mouth moved along my jaw, his fingers tangling in my hair as he gently pulled my head back so I looked up at him, exposed to him. “You’re not going. Not alone.”

Before I knew it, I was in his lap, running my fingertips over his bare chest. My skin was chilled despite the heat of the woodstove, but his hands were warm against my back. He ran his fingers up my spine, sending sparks flying across my skin. My shirt was on the floor, the pale fabric glowing in the light

of the full moon and sending whispers of light through the frosted window next to us.

He rested his hand against my back, forcing me closer, my breasts pressing into his chest as I kissed him deeply. He was gentle with his touches as he explored me, his mouth moving from mine to my neck to my collarbone, lingering there for a moment before he dipped down to take one of my nipples between his teeth.

I let my breath out in a long, pleading moan as the sensation awakened something deep within me. Something I had been holding back for months. Something that could ruin any chances of letting him go.

The moan was the only invitation he needed. He ran his hands

along my thighs, then stood from the couch, holding me against him as he carried me through the living room and into the tight hallway leading to the bedrooms,

He backed into my room, shutting the door with his foot before tossing me on the bed. My heart was pounding against my ribs as he took a step back, looking down at me. Heat flashed behind his eyes as he reached down, his fingers lingering on his belt buckle. I stared at him, taking him in. Trying to memorize every single inch of him.

He was waiting for me, waiting for me to say no, to say yes… to say anything. I swallowed back the mingled fear and despair threatening to take hold of me, and nodded, my mouth parting to whisper an inaudible “please.”

He had his pants off in an instant, standing naked at the foot of the bed. I tried to keep my eyes on his face, afraid to let them wander. This was it for us. I wanted to remember the way he was looking at me right now more than anything.

He slowly crawled to me, helping me shimmy out of the thick fleece-lined leggings I was wearing and my panties. I was totally bare, completely exposed to him now. I didn’t try to hide myself. I closed my eyes as he looked at me, and I was able to feel his gaze move from my eyelids to my navel and the swell of my hips.

I wondered if he had ever done this before. Part of me thought he had, because the way his hands ran down the length of my thigh, his thumb pressing into the flesh behind my knee felt like the work of an experienced man.

But the other part of me thought not, because the way he touched me in all the right places felt as though we had done

this together time and time again, even though it was the first time. I felt electric. His touch sent sparks shooting down my legs and warmth between them, a nagging ache that threatened to take over with each passing second.

His mouth met mine in the softest kiss. I could feel the tears threatening to spill over my lashes as I opened my mouth. He ran his tongue along my lower lip, nibbling it with his teeth as his hands continued to explore.

And then he moved his hand behind my legs, his fingers gliding against the growing wetness. Nothing had ever felt better than his touch against my tender skin.

“Rowan,” I breathed, “please…”

Minutes or hours could have gone by; I didn’t know for sure. Every second of pain and ecstasy was all part of a drawn-out goodbye. He said my name, the sound of it on his lips sending me over the edge as I gripped his shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Sometime later I woke to stillness. Outside the frosted window, the full moon still hung high in the cloudless sky. Rowan was sleeping with his arm around me, his fingers limp against my hip bone where I lay turned into his, my face in the crook of his shoulder.

It was cold outside of the snug nest of blankets. I rose and pulled Rowan’s shirt over my head, hugging the fabric to my skin. It fit me like a dress, the hem brushing against my bare thighs as I walked through the cabin, turning into the living room with every intention of stoking the fire in the wood stove.

I knelt before it, reaching out to clasp the handle to open it when a sudden warmth wrapped itself around me like a blanket. I blinked and was no longer in the cabin. I was looking out over the water, soft surf brushing against my toes.

I turned to the murmur of voices behind me.

And there l.was, standing before the granite temple that used to haunt my dreams. I had thought it signified the Temple of White Queens, and the chaos I had heard in a long-ago dream was a glimpse of the destruction Tasia had caused within its walls.

But I was wrong about something. This temple was intact. It was old, very old, and unfamiliar

A man appeared, his back to me. He was walking to the temple, his head hanging as he sauntered toward the entrance. I felt a wave of familiarity wash over me, the specific locks of his chestnut-colored hair and manner of walking sending chills through my spine.

“Rowan?” I said, but my words were silent, lost in the sound of the waves on the rocky shore.

He turned his head, his sideburns dappled with gray. He looked right at me, through me, as though he had heard me speak but found it shocking.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he turned back to the temple, resting his hand on the door frame. A ring made of green stone was on his pinky finger, catching the light as he pushed against the door and stepped into the darkness.

I followed him, my steps quick on the strangely colored flat rocks beneath my feet. But when I reached the temple and stepped inside, I found myself alone.

The altar at the back of the temple was covered in wilted white roses, their petals yellowed and falling to the floor. I looked around, noticing the cobwebs and thick layers of dust on the rows of stone benches, and the cracks in the stained glass windows that let in pale beams of light, specks of dust floating in their wake.

Again, I heard murmuring, familiar voices chattering in the empty place. I turned back to the altar and the sound ceased. Was that Kacidra I had heard laughing? Gemma’s voice lifted

in response?

“But you just got here. You can’t leave now!” said a young woman, a teenager, standing at the altar. She had not been there before. Her hair was completely white and pulled back from her face by several intricate braids around her forehead and ears. Her hair flowed all the way down her back, brushing against her hips as she turned to me, a single white rose in her hand.

She was playing with the stem, her finger on the thorn. “Don’t leave,” she begged, but her voice betrayed her looks. She had the voice of a child, someone much younger than herself, and even her eyes seemed too young for the angled curves of her exquisitely beautiful face.

Her eyes were silver with flakes of blue around the irises, the same blue as Rowan’s. The breath caught in my throat as she looked at me, her brow furrowing into a frown.

A man walked through me down the center of the temple. He

was young, his hair a soft copper blond. He bent to whisper to her, and I watched as her face fell, her eyes darkening as she gripped the thorny rose stem in the palm of her hand. The man turned, looking right at me, his eyes two distinctly different colors.

“Wake up, Mama!” the woman cried, tears falling from her white eyelashes. “Please, wake up!”

“Hanna? Hanna wake up-”

Topened my eyes to Rowan looking down at me, his arms wrapped around my naked shoulders. I was still in bed, nestled beneath the quilts with my body against his.

“You were crying in your sleep. Are you okay?”

“I was dreaming,” I said, more to myself than to Rowan.

“Dream Dancing? I thought you lost your powers?”

“No, I… this was a real dream.” Fatigue was pulling me back into sleep.

“We’re going to figure this out, Hanna. I’m not going to lose you,” Rowan said, but I was already miles away, slipping over the edge into a deep, dreamless slumber.