Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 257

Chapter 37: Awake

Myla

Vanilla, but not the essence Mom used when she baked those chocolate chip cookies I liked. It was sharp, fresh, like the long strings of vanilla beans sometimes sold in the market. I sniffed. There was something else with it, floral, like the heavy scent of the magnolia trees when they were full of mature blooms that had been soaked with rain.

I blinked into the yellow light, sniffing deeply again, then went rigid as I realized what was happening.

I felt electric, my chest tightening with sudden anticipation. This was it. This is what I had been waiting for; it had to be! My mate was near. Very near

But where the hell was I? My head ached painfully, the skin on the back of my neck tight as I tried to move my head to the side, my vision blurred. I was not at home. The floor beneath the bed where I laid was pitching back and forth in slow, rolling motion. But that smell was dominating all of my senses at once.

Where was he? Nearby, for certain.

I reached up to rub sleep from my eyes, groaning softly as my arms ached and tingled from lack of use. Blinking into the light again, I saw a wiry old man, his face drawn in deep concern and heavily lined with age..

“Oh,” I said quietly, only slightly disappointed. I would love him regardless, right? He was my mate, after all. Everyone said the Moon Goddess worked in mysterious ways.

“Cleo, she’s awake! Look!” A deep, honeyed male voice rang out in the stuffy room. I turned my head, seeing my mom step forward with a wide, grateful smile stretched across her face and tears rolling down her lashes.

“Mom?”

“I’m here, sweetheart. Oh, thank you, Goddess!”

“What-”

Suddenly, my vision was filled with gold. I blinked again, surprised, pushing my head back against the pillow to get a better angle of whatever, whoever, was blocking my field of sight.

“Nice to finally meet you, darlin’,” he said, his golden-green eyes sparkling with pleasure. His golden hair was falling around his face, which was deeply tanned, and his wide mouth was stretched into a beautiful smile, showcasing his straight, white teeth. He was gorgeous, the most delicious thing I had ever seen. And he smelled good, like really REALLY good.

Then he touched me, his fingers gently running down the length of my forearm. Electricity. Fire. Pure, unaltered desire.

Oh, take that Natasha Blaine, I thought with mirth. She had found her mate at the last social while I had gone home empty-handed and desperately hungover. Natasha’s mate was balding and had smelled strongly of ale and onions when she showed him off during the market, stopping at my booth to gloat.

But mine?

“Holy

shit…” I breathed, looking up at him.

“Myla!” Mom hissed, her voice twisted in shock and embarrassment. But I only had eyes for the beautiful man hovering over me, his eyes alight with something I could only describe as joy.

Take that, Natasha!I thought, my mind going over how I was going to tell her, how I was going to flaunt my perfect, divinely beautiful match.

But then reality came crashing down around me, the pitch of the room and the dull ache on the back of my head suddenly became too much. I felt a little sick, wondering why all of these people were in my room.

My gaze lingered on the golden man for a second longer before I broke away, turning to the side to see the wiry old man, whose own eyes had narrowed as he tilted his head, looking over my expression.

“Alright, we need to give her some space now-” he said, but his voice was drowned out by the scream that erupted from my throat as frantically began to look around at the small, windowless room.

“Where-where–”

it’s alright. You’re okay!” Mom was clutching my hands together, stopping me from flailing as I turned my head from side to side. The

15:28 D

Chapter 37: Awake

bared as the old man appeared at my side with a syringe, the needle gleaming the light of a single oil lantern swinging over our heads. The old man backed away; his brow knitted

of tears, “you’ve been asleep for a few days honey. You’re safe. Do you remember

“Remember-remember what?”

Maeve? Please?” Mom let my hands fall and sat on the side of

.

Not unless I’m here,” Keaton stole a steely glance at the old man before turning away and sprinting out of the

I sat up straight, my vision blurring as Mom held my

That’s it.

as the old man stood in the corner, taking apart the

we? The room’s

a boat, Myla.

head hurts really

do you remember? What

swallowing against the bile threatening to rise in my throat. What did I

kicked the covers down with my feet and then I couldn’t

Mom as she stroked my hair away from my face. “There was a fire. I was in bed… -I

That’s

we were on the street

leaping forward and throwing her arms around me in a tight squeeze. She took the breath out of me, literally, and I wheezed as she inadvertently

was breathing heavily and ran his fingers through his hair as he

she watched the exchange, shaking her head at me. “Seriously, Myla?

eyes off

but not the playful look I was expecting. There was a severe hurt behind her eyes, something I had never seen before. “What’s wrong?” I asked, looking from Mom to Maeve. Keaton sat on the edge of the bed, glancing at

else was lingering in the doorway, his figure shadowed by the crowd. He

room now with so many people. I felt queasy again as I watched them all look at each other, willing one another to be

finally asked, settling my gaze on Maeve. She was on the edge of tears, and the man behind her moved out of the doorway suddenly, resting his hand on

going somewhere safe, Myla,”

answer

voice silencing the room. I felt the floor

nervous laugh tickling

I instantly recognized him as the man I found with Maeve in the market weeks ago, the

were we doing on a boat with Maeve’s breeder? And Gemma was

he said,

told

there, listening, totally incapable of being able to process what had happened. Aaron hadn’t actually been Aaron of Red Lakes at all. His name was Troy. He was someone named Romero’s grandson. Gemma was dead, and it was likely Alpha Ernest was as well. Drogomor had fallen to Alpha Damian of Poldesse, a pack I hadn’t even known

her appearance in for the first time. She had her hair piled on the top of her head, and she was wearing a loose linen top, the sleeves too long and rolled up to her elbows. She was also wearing an apron that was dusted with flour

back to touch the wound on the back of my head, my fingers gingerly stroking

was

had I

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