Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Chapter 25: Back to Finish the Job

Ernest

“Ernest? Ernest, hey.** Wake up. I’m so sorry,”

I opened my eyes, Gemma’s voice filling the dark, empty space around me. I blinked, somewhat startled, although pleasantly surprised to hear her so nearby

She always left after we had sex. Always. And I had never been man enough to stop her.

I wanted her, needed her, but I couldn’t let go of the notion that I would lose her. Part of me thought, you know, why the hell not? She was my mate. We were meant for each other. I was hurting both of us by pushing her away.

But another part of me knew with every fiber of my being that I would lose her.

I could live in agony and break her heart over and over if it meant saving her life.

We’d kept it a secret, even from Maeve. Maeve would push, and push, and push us to make it official if she knew. The only person I had ever confided in was Aaron.

And all the sudden he was at the foot of my bed.

“Aaron?” I sat up, the sheets falling over my bare chest. I realized quite quickly that I was as naked as the day I was born. I moved my foot beneath the covers, my boxers dragging under the sheets because they were still wrapped around one ankle. And I noticed, as I scrunched my toes, that the lacey blue pair of underwear Gemma had been wearing, briefly, was stuffed in the sheets near the end of the mattress as well.

I blushed, then Gemma blushed, and Aaron quickly turned away as I gingerly reached far beneath the covers to retrieve the evidence of what we had been up to only an hour before.

But there was no smug smile on his face. Gemma’s blush faded as I quickly, and discreetly, tossed her her underwear, which she shimmied into without even blinking.

Gemma looked up at me as she smoothed the fabric of her skirt, her neck moving as she swallowed. She looked scared to death.

“What’s going on? Is someone hurt?” I looked from Gemma to Aaron, adrenaline prickling my fingertips as I threw the sheets back and stood, not caring that I was flashing everyone as I hastily pulled my boxers up to my waist.

“Ernest, I-“Gemma was in tears. She was trembling. She looked at Aaron, a silent plea etched all over her face. I looked at the clock on the far wall, the hands barely visible in the darkened room.

“What time is it? For the love of the Goddess, will someone turn on a light?”

“No, it stays dark,” Aaron said with grave conviction, his face totally expressionless.

“Why?” I replied, pulling my shirt over my head and bending to fish for the pair of trousers I had been wearing. I pulled them from underneath the bed in time to see the fretful glance Gemma gave Aaron, something serious passing between them.

“No one is hurt. Not yet.”

“Not yet? Aaron-”

“It’s not Aaron. I’m not Aaron.”

I had only been in the tower a handful of times during my time as Alpha. I had seen Romero, heard his deranged, slightly senile ramblings before. He was just an old man, an ancient one, really. And he was serving a life sentence for war crimes that took place before I was even born.

him comfortable and well fed. Horace took care of everything. He had insisted. And now

from the beginning. He had arrived in Valoria around the time the real Aaron was set to arrive, spending the first few days in secret correspondence with Horace before showing up to the castle, where he pretended to be Maeve’s

a ruse. Troy was working for the previously disbanded pack of Poldesse, the pack ruled by the Alpha

full weight of his mission until after he arrived. He hadn’t known of Poldesse’s impending invasion. He hadn’t known of Damian’ s desire to conquer Valoria. He hadn’t known of Romero’s

a man desperate to free the only living

Romero, his grandfather.

have done it too, he told me, if his mate wasn’t the same

25: Back to Finish the

Maeve

pulling me out of my abject, yet personally inflicted loneliness. I kept people away on purpose. I talked and talked until I could lull them into numbness and slip back into the shadows. But Aaron, I mean Troy,

my friend. I trusted him. And

I followed him to the tower, Gemma following close behind as we crept through the castle in the pitch black of night. It was 2:00 in the morning, and

being a spy and all, and together we climbed up the

when Troy opened the door to the circular room that had been Romero’s home for

over, and books scattered across the floor. Romero laid in a heap on the floor, naked, his body half-covered by a thin, shredded blanket

whispered, looking around before casting a glance at

next to Romero, reaching down to take the man’s

backward away from the withered form of Romero

croaked, his bloodied mouth dribbling as it stretched into a

Troy said,

old as the Goddess herself, boy.” Romero turned his head and spit a tooth fragment onto the stone floor, spraying blood. But what do you think happens when two old, gnarled wolves fight in close

Troy leaned back over Romero, who

see you told

going

eyes, wheezing. “That bistard Damian wants what I have. Horace was meant to get it -to get the-” He coughed, blood spraying across Troy’s shirt. Troy leaned back, glancing over at me before looking back down at the man, who was laughing

impatient with obvious hatred

it from the wall,” Romero coughed, “there’s a

me. We

know that, boy. Do

from the wall and reached behind it. A full minute passed

But he stiffened suddenly, his shoulders going rigid as he straightened to his full height, turning around

snorted, choking on a laugh Gemma jabbed me hard in the

breathed,

worn, frayed document his face began to

“Doesn’t matter.”

“This is

this can’t be…”

cell door. Gemma pulled on my arm, stopping

looked down at

peeking her