Sold AS The alpha King's Breeder
Chapter 621
Chapter 621
CHAPTER 121 : THE MARK IS GONE
*Xander*
“Xander!”
I swung wildly into the dark, my clenched fist meeting with the side of someone’s jaw. My knuckles cracked against bone, my skin splitting with the impact. I roared with fury, fear, and pain.
I couldn’t see anything. Why couldn’t I see anything? Someone was holding me down, voices erupting nearby, all around.
“Sedate him–”
“Stick him with that needle, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do!”
Adrian’s voice rang through my ears, and I gasped, bucking against whoever or whatever was holding me down.
“I can’t see,” I rasped, whipping my head from side to side, “Adrian!”
“I’m here, Alpha.” I felt Adrian’s grip on my forearm and momentarily relaxed before reality rushed back to me, taking my breath away.
I thrashed against what felt like several people holding me down, the voices surrounding me now shouting in desperation to be heard.
“Xander, listen to me–”
“Where is Lena? Where–where am I?” I cut Adrian off, unable to hide the panic in my voice.
I felt a gentle touch against my cheek, someone with soft, feminine hands. For a moment I thought it was Lena, my heart skipping a beat and then breaking as someone else’s scent hit me.
“Take a breath,” Rosalie whispered, and I did, my body surrendering to her words while my mind fought against them. She reached to the back of my head and fumbled in my hair for a moment, then I felt fabric slide loose and graze my cheekbones as light flooded my eyelids.
I blinked frantically to adjust to the bright light overhead, some kind of lamp shining directly in my face.
My eyes began to adjust to the light as several shadowed figures hovered over me, their faces blurred and distorted.
“Are you going to freak out if we let you go?” Rosalie asked lightly, her voice warm and motherly as she gently tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear.
I shook my head, or attempted to, the act sending a ripple of searing pain down my spine. I felt everyone holding me down ease up on their grip, and I shot straight upward in a seated position, screaming in agony.
“Damnit–his sutures!”
“Xander, lay back down!”
“Xander, listen to me–”
voices around me as my mind spun and my vision blurred with black spots. I fell back again, panting as heat coursed over my skin. I felt everything–every scratch, every
Night Realm–”
shushed me as though I was a sleepy child, her touch the only
“You’re in Breles, Xander.”
muffled and wet like he was speaking with a mouth full of water. I blinked into the light, my vision clearing enough to catch a glimpse of him standing behind several unfamiliar people. He was pressing an ice pack to
I punch you?” I asked stupidly. My ears began to ring violently, and I couldn’t hear his reply, but based on the look in his eyes, I
Oliver hissed as he was nudged hard in the ribs by none other than
the stars above me, the sky fading into dawn. I was in a tent–one of the war tents in the camp in Breles. I
dressed in a white coat soiled with blood. His eyes were narrowed on me, but not in a menacing way. He was watching me closely,
saw when I looked down at my body. I gasped, then panicked, and hands
what my face looked like, and
I’d been
of my blood,” Rosalie said, giving me a weak smile. “It…
the f**k happened? How
a long
look, and Oliver’s
f**k
came a male voice from
speaking in low tones as she retreated out of sight. Through the ringing in my ears, I could hear
is closed,” Oliver said
“Lena–”
in his eyes that I didn’t recognize as he held my gaze for a moment longer, then he walked away, pushing
healer cleared his throat. “I really need to continue patching him up,” he said, every word laced with annoyance. I hadn’t registered the Egoren warriors standing in
vampires are still
his back to us and began rifling through a cart of supplies. “It’s nearly morning.
hadn’t seen step toward me again, retreated a
growled, nearly foaming at
be awake for this,” the
painfully turned my head
“For what? What–”
was rushing over my body, threatening to take me under. I fought against the darkness creeping into
been instinctual, or maybe habit, but before I succumbed to sedation, I reached
gentle touch. I met nothing but open flesh, and
“No!”
said, her voice trembling with
a strained, forced whisper. Through the numbness taking over my body, I could feel the anger roiling. Her mark, her mark
might have screamed. I might have roared like the wolf struggling to
***
camp?” I asked the healer, a different one from the man who’d done his best to sew the gaping hole in my
an older woman with a round, somewhat plain face but striking dark brown eyes, only shrugged at my inquiry. “This is war. There is no schedule,” she replied tersely, motioning for
need to speak to him,” I said through gritted teeth as she pulled the blood soaked bandages from my chest, revealing deep, jagged puncture wounds–bite marks, hundreds of them, all over my
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