Sold AS The alpha King's Breeder

Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 557

Chapter 57 : A Double Wedding?

*Lena*

Hanna of Red Lakes, the Luna Queen of Valoria, my mother, was the most emotionally controlled person I’d ever known.

And as her eyes grazed over the faded mark above my breast, the wound already healed and a muted white against my skin, her face didn’t change. She was expressionless, and her eyes gave me no hint of what she was thinking.

Her calmness in chaos used to infuriate me. Both of my parents were that way, although my father did have a flair for the dramatics from time to time. Mom? No. Even now, she remained stoic and unbothered.

Several moments passed before her eyes met mine again. I swallowed against the lump in my throat, tears threatening to spill from my eyes as she reached a hand out to cup my cheek.

“Why?” she asked so softly I had to read her lips instead of registering her words.

“I don’t know,” I whispered back, then hung my head in shame.

She walked over to me, tilting my chin with her fingers so I was looking into her face. “He didn’t say anything to any of us about it,” she replied.

She knelt on the ground before me, her voice a lullaby against the agony ripping through my heart. That tether that bound me to Xander went taunt for the first time since I’d left Morhan, searing through my body as I let my true feelings bubble to the surface of my mind.

“He said he wouldn’t,” I choked. “He said it was something for me to do, if I chose to. I didn’t… I loved him. Love… still do. But it hurts, Mom. Is it–is it supposed to hurt this bad?”

My makeup was running. I sniffled as she pulled me off the stool and into her chest, holding me like I was only a child and not a full-grown adult. She ran her hand over my back in a soothing motion that made me want to do nothing more than curl up in bed and listen as she read the book of folklore that always sat on my bedside table back home in Mirage.

“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed, but she shook her head and shushed me.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. This was your decision to make–”

“I have no control over it, Mom. My emotions, everything is just–”

She pulled away from me and reached behind me for a tissue from the box on the vanity, lighting dabbing at my eyes. She gave me a kind, comforting smile.

I swallowed back the frustration that coursed through my body

prickle, and I folded them in the lap,

worked when I was a kid, Mom. I… I’m going to be twenty-one in a few months. What Xander made me feel in all… in all aspects… I felt like I could rip the world in half if I wanted to. Like, I could do it. I can feel it.” It was the brutal, honest truth. Whatever I’d done to Slate in the alley was only a glimpse of what power I

her eyes not leaving mine even though I’d broken away from her gaze. If anyone knew what this felt like, if anyone understood a shred of what

something called a Dream Dancer, someone capable of traveling to what she called the “Spirit Realm,”

went by and she grew into adolescence. Before she was my mother, Hanna of Red Lakes had

that allowed her powers to manifest. My grandmother had trained her to use them.

more than dream dance. I could do much, much more. And I’d had my

have you done with them?” she asked in

powers? What had I done with them, besides blast Slate into oblivion, or so

who Slate was and how Xander had confronted him that fateful day

the means to do something about it… I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about Crimson Creek. My family, everyone but George, thought I’d just spent the last six weeks

that what happened in Crimson Creek was something I needed to handle myself, alone, if I needed

had nearly killed me, but the blood root had brought me back to life. And the fanged man from my dream…. How could

thought of him, which sent a jolt

darkest nightmare was my mate, and he was trying to save me

looked up at her.

gently untangle my knitted fingers. Soft, white rose petals fell from the palm of my hands and drifted down onto the floor where

serious note as she stroked my

“You dream danced?”

I had it. I couldn’t make sense of it. I don’t remember much

she whispered, leaning in to press

this

everything else–my degree, my career, my mate…. The mark had no

whispered, feeling nothing

my smeared makeup, “but after you spend some time at home, maybe a few weeks.” She paused, gently wiping the tissue beneath my lashes as I looked into her eyes. “I know it’s not what you want, but Rosalie…

never wanted them!” I protested, and the look of absolute heartbreak on my mom’s face shattered my

though she were about to

generational strain between us–a mother and daughter, the same as she’d been with her own mother, long ago now. I’d never known her mother, a woman named Leera. She’d been a Lycennian woman, stolen away as a baby

mom had ever had