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.

took care of

say Troy, had told me everything. He started from the beginning. He had arrived in Valoria around the time the real Aaron was set to arrive, spending

the previously disbanded pack of Poldesse, the pack ruled by the Alpha Damian,

impending invasion. He

to it all, a pawn, and a man desperate to

Romero, his grandfather.

told me, if his mate wasn’t the

Back to Finish

Maeve

that he was telling the truth. I just knew. Troy had seen right through me from the very beginning. He had broken open the carefully constructed persona i had spent my life perfecting, 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, had

my friend. I trusted him. And against all odds,

close behind as we crept through the castle in the pitch black of night. It was 2:00 in the morning, and despite Troy and Gemma’s desperate pleas to rouse the castle, I protested, insisting that I’d face Romero

key, of course, being a spy and all, and together

home for two decades, none of us were prepared for what

mess, the sparse furniture toppled over, and books scattered across the floor. Romero laid in a heap on the floor, naked,

looking around before casting a glance at Gemma, who stood statuesque, stunned into

reaching down to take the man’s head

a surprised howl. All three of us jumped, Troy leaping backward away from the withered form of Romero and Gemma pulling me away from the door to the cell, her fingers digging into

Romero croaked, his bloodied mouth dribbling as it stretched into a smile,

said, looking

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 quarters, hmm? Makes a mess

did this? Why?” Troy leaned back over Romero, who pointed

see you

wasn’t going to let

was meant to get it -to get the-” He coughed, blood spraying across Troy’s shirt. Troy leaned back, glancing over at me before

Troy growled, growing impatient with obvious hatred

coughed, “there’s a stone loose. Pull

with me. We haven’t much

boy. Do

Romero as Troy stood and pulled the little wooden cot away from the wall and reached behind it. A full minute passed before he pulled a stone the size of my head from the wall, placing it on the bed and glancing down at Romero

bent behind the bed. But he stiffened suddenly, his shoulders going rigid as he straightened to his full height, turning around with a yellowed, rolled up

on a laugh Gemma jabbed me

see,” Romero breathed, blood trickling from

worn, frayed document his face began to change, his eyes widening into perfect spheres. “Where did

“Doesn’t matter.”

“This is

this can’t be…”

it?” I said, taking a step toward the cell door. Gemma pulled on my arm,

throat. He looked down at Romero, who had a wide

asked, peeking her head from behind