Sold AS The alpha King's Breeder

Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 505

Chapter 7 : Another Beautiful Man

♦Xander*

I’m not sure what I saw looking in our window. Every single hair on my arms was standing on end as I stood on the porch, squinting into the pitch-black night. A soft breeze was rustling the grain in the distance. It was overcast. The entire area was bathed in nothing but blackness.

I’d seen eyes. I knew that much. And they had been looking past me, trying to catch a glimpse of Lena.

I leaned on the railing, gripping it so tightly the muscles of my arms flexed with tension. I looked down the pathway toward the bunkhouse, narrowing my eyes at the single light that was on inside.

Had some creep snuck out of the bunkhouse and peered into our window, not expecting me to be awake?

I hardly ever slept. Not deeply, at least. I’d spent the last four hours listening to Lena’s labored breathing as she suffocated herself in her sleeping bag. I’d finally reached over and unzipped it, just enough for the skin of her neck to be exposed to the cool air in the room.

And when I’d turned back around, I’d seen it. Two eyes looking right at US through the window. Had they been glowing? Or was it only the fact I’d been on the edge of sleep that made them look that way?

I looked back over the open field once more, glaring into the night.

“She’s mine,” I whispered, hoping whatever or whoever it was that was lingering nearby was close enough to hear me.

I locked the door on my way in and opened every cabinet, looking for something to cover the window with. I found a hammer, but no nails or tacks. That didn’t matter to me. I searched around the room and settled on the wobbly side table next to the armchair and broke one of the legs off of it, pulling out two nails and closing them in my fist.

“What the hell are you doing?” Lena was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, now dressed in an oversized tee shirt. Her legs and feet were bare, which sent a thrill through me as I rose to my full height.

“I told you, you were going to get too hot.”

She ignored me, crossing her hands over her chest and stepping out of my way as I sidestepped around her to get back into the bedroom.

“Why did you break that table?”

“I needed nails.”

“For what? Why were you outside?”

“It’s the middle of the night, Lena. Stop asking me so many questions,” I murmured, holding the nails between my teeth as I measured the width of the window with my hands. I looked around the room, settling my gaze on the pillow I’d been using only minutes before. “Hand me that pillowcase.”

“Why?”

“We need a curtain. Just do it.”

She gave me a skeptical look, but to my surprise she followed my directions, sliding the pillowcase off the thin, useless pillow and handing it to me. I held it against the wall and drove one of the nails through it, and then again on the other side of the window, so the pillowcase covered the window entirely.

have just asked for curtains in

her. I glanced down at it, deciding it would be best to sleep with it, or at least have it nearby in case whoever was looking in our window decided

“Fine,” she whispered.

back into her sleeping bag before I sat on the edge of my bed myself,

to turn to look down at her, noticing

“Why? Are you scared?”

mess with me,

at her, reaching over to pat her shoulder. She flinched away from me, glaring

deeply with my hands resting on my chest. I couldn’t find the nerve to close them, not after what I’d seen. I’d

that was okay. I could just lay there and rest, taking long, slow breaths, and still feel well tomorrow. I could nap, perhaps, knowing Lena would be in

to keep my eyes open. I finally surrendered to sleep, and the last thing I envisioned were Lena’s pale gray eyes narrowing in my direction like they had

didn’t like this place. I didn’t like the feeling it gave me, like I was being watched, preyed upon by

she liked it or not… whether

***

♦Lena*

met a few of the other people working at Radcliffe farm over breakfast in the bunkhouse, which was a small square shaped building with two long bedrooms housing several

from nearly every genre available. I found that comforting as I sat in the dining room, picking at

He looked rather menacing as I peered at him over the rim of my coffee mug. I raised my brow at him

was still acting super weird. But I didn’ t know him that

a tight ponytail as she began to gather the dishes. I rose, drinking the last of my coffee, and caught

cup down and turning toward

with?” she said, holding the door

walking along a well-beaten path through the fields of grain, most of which had gone to seed. We were heading toward the section of the farm that was in the southwest corner of the property,

sage, and thyme. I could see the patches of herbs as we crested a shallow hill, their perky green leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. But I saw

the fence?” I asked as we walked down the hill.

“We don’t know.”

dappled the landscape outside of the property line. It could have been burn marks from lightning, for all

more about it than I can,” she answered, shrugging her shoulders. “That’s him,

She motioned me forward, pointing to the old man who was crouched

her over my shoulder as I approached Henry, noticing the look of concern on her face as she turned from US and began to walk back up the hill. I looked to the left, seeing

at, honestly,” Henry said, his back still turned to me. I stopped walking, standing ten or so yards away from him. “The house, I mean. It’s

his eyes. I bit the inside of my cheek as I tucked

giving

continued to stare at me, then arched his brow, shaking his head as he turned back to the herbs. “Sure you are,” he said. I pursed my lips and walked forward, gingerly stepping between the herbs as I made my way closer to Henry. He had a basket next

when I

up at me, grunting in response. I colored, then knelt down

said you were having issues

infestation,” he butted in, cutting me off. I opened my mouth to respond, but he stood, handing me his basket and pointing to the valerian roots. “They’re supposed to look like that,” he said, then opened his palm, showing me the valerian roots in his hand, “not

blackened and withered. I looked up at