Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Chapter 16: Don’t Say My Name

Maeve

“He just left? Just got up and left?” Gemma picked at her fingernails, looking over at me from perch on the couch. We were in the atrium, a towering four-story high addition to the backside of the castle where the windows stretched to the ceiling and almost microscopic hoses ran along the beams, showering hundreds of plants in a steady flow of mist. It was what I imagined a jungle would look and feel like.

I fingered one of the leaves of a massive Monstera vine, marveling at the size of a leaf before turning to Gemma and taking a seat at on a wicker lounge chair across from her, folding my hands in my lap. “I don’t think he even, uh, finished?”

Seriously?” She sat up a little straighter, her eyes wide.

“I mean, I don’t know…”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No! Nothing. He just left. I haven’t even seen him since last night. Maybe it wasn’t… good? Good enough for him?”

Gemma rolled her eyes, “Maeve, come on. Ask any man what constitutes good sex and they will say sex in general!”

I blushed, pressing my hands between my thighs. “I must have done something wrong.”

I definitely felt like I had done something wrong. I knew I had been difficult; he had made that very clear. We had ended up in a tangle of sheets on the floor, and not in a sexy way. Oh, yeah, it was my fault. He was expecting me to be submissive, unyielding. I had failed.

“It’s not your fault,” Gemma said gently, her eyes piercing mine as she willed me to believe her. “Something’s up with that guy.”

“What do you mean?”

“He is not what I thought he’d be. Nothing like the Aaron I met when his family visited Winter Forest.”

“Come on, Gem! I told you it’s been ten years since-”

“He looks nothing like he should, Maeve! He was a blond! Kind of a weakling!”

“Who says hair color can’t change? Rowan’s hair was nearly as light as mine until he reached his twenties. Now it’s as dark as Dad’s!”

“His eyes, Maeve? Don’t you think we both would’ve remembered those eyes? How often do you meet someone with eyes of two different colors, hmm?”

“Well, do you remember what his eyes looked like, Gemma? I don’t! He told me they got more pronounced as he got older-”

“Oh please, how is that even possible?”

paused, biting my lip.

“It’s not possible!”

“What are you saying, Gemma? Do you think he’s not that he’s not Aaron? Who else could he be?”

“I don’t know! I’m only saying he rubs me the wrong way, okay? Like he’s hiding something.”

“I think you’re the one hiding something!” I exclaimed, narrowing my eyes at her.

She arched her brow, leaning forward in her chair. I was being defensive, trying to cover my own shame and suspicion by bringing up the one thing I currently had against her. It was a dance we’d done since my childhood, really. Gemma would try to talk some sense into me, and I would clam up, my only option being to accept defeat or throw it back at her. I never accepted defeat.

“Why are you defending Aaron when he—”

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Chapter 16: Don’t Say My Name

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“Why was your sweater in Ernest’s office?”

She blanched, the color draining from her cheeks as she abruptly looked away from me, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “What did he say about it?”

“He looked guilty and embarrassed,” I said, trying to remain heated, but my mouth was twitching into a smile, a laugh choking me.

hand in dismissal, but I could see the same

I shouldn’t have brought it up.

is your

“I’m sorry, too.”

looked at each other for

me what’s really

at the challenge of putting my feelings into words. Gemma

want me to go

in front of me, looking down at the ground. She came to a stop, rounding on me, her eyes

“Gemma?”

“He’s my mate, Maeve.”

“Who? Ernest?!”

face pinking again,

you guys are

“No. No, we’re not.”

to feel

feel

the second I laid eyes on him, the very second I walked through the doors of the castle. But thinks— I’ve been flirting with him, trying to get a reaction out of him. I even

did

liked it. He wanted

me. Gemma was the queen of dragging

told him how I felt. I told him I was sure we were mates. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there looking like he

having anything to say?

doesn’t sound like

He told me it’s not safe to be around him. I couldn’t believe it, you know, this is Ernest we’re talking about. He wouldn’t hurt

is kind of

know. I don’t know what to do. It happened a few days before we went to the social and … I tried as hard as I could to keep him off my mind, but the pull-oh, Goddess, the mate bond is

“So, you’re sure?”

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Don’t Say My

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paused, wringing her hands, then looked me in the eyes, deadly serious. She was sure. I could tell by the look behind her eyes that she had never been

talk to him. I’ll find out what his deal

can’t. It doesn’t

think it matters

be the reasoning for you even being here, needing a breeder to give Ernest an heir? Don’t see you? I can’t act on this even

hands shaking slightly. “A mate bond overrides

know that’s

for me to be here. I would have no need

I tried to pull away. “Don’t, Maeve. I know what you’re thinking.

“What problems with Aaron?”

of my lower lip to stop it from trembling and giving my true feelings away. She opened her mouth to speak, but

said, crossing my arms over my

“Did we… summon them?”

evaporated and was replaced with his teasing

of the wicker chairs. He glanced over at Gemma, a soft smile on his lips, and she blushed, her eyes slowly leaving

breath, stalking toward Ernest with every intention of dragging him out of the atrium and into his office to demand an

forearm as he leaned

you had a chance to do that before you ran out of my room last night like I had the

two of them leaning into the empty space between

face. “I don’t think he wants to talk to

against the weight of it. Aaron was right behind me, of course, and he put his hands on the glass to help me ease the

the corridor and began to walk toward the stairwell, taking long strides despite the fact that Aaron could keep up with

followed me regardless, grabbing me by the collar of my T-shirt and damn near tossing me into a darkened, rarely

inhaled and my nose filled with the sharp scent of floor polish. The door had been left ajar, likely to air it out after a deep

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16: Don’t Say My

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