Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Chapter 44 : Waves of Emotion

Maeve

The camp was nothing more than a few large canvas tents spread out across the beach above the tideline. I sat next to Cleo around a small fire, hugging my knees to my chest as we watched the skiffs dart around the Persephone in the high tide, looking for leaks.

“The ship is definitely floating.” Myla said as she approached our circle, handing out bowls of some kind of stew. I accepted a bowl, thanking her as I straightened my legs and rested the bowl on my thighs.

Cleo was looking out over the water, her gaze eventually shifting to the starry sky above us as we ate our soup in silence. “The stars are so clear,” she said, setting her bowl down in the sand, “It’s truly amazing. You can see everything.”

“No lights,” I said with a smile, following her gaze, “I don’t remember ever seeing the stars in Valoria, especially near Mirage. But back home

– swallowed against the lump in my throat, feeling incredibly homesick.

I was sick of the heat, honestly. I felt sticky and filthy all the time. I thought Valoria had been bad with its thick humidity, but this place was far worse.

It had been two days since I washed up on the beach. We didn’t have much to do but wait, and watch, as the crew of the Persephone tried to mend the boat. Olly had us fetch water all day long, insisting that he boil every bucket before using it for cooking, washing, and drinking. Meran had brought her goats and chickens on shore, letting them roam just within sight. The dog proved to be a great companion to have around. He spent his days watching over the chickens, alerting Meran if they began to stray too far into the brush.

“I think they’re close to finishing fixing whatever was wrong with at least one of the engines,” Myla said, stirring her soup, “That’s what Keaton told me, at least.”

“How are things going with you two?” I asked, smiling softly to myself as she blushed.

“Oh, it’s been great. Kind of a shock, of course.”

“I don’t know if shock is the best way of describing it,” Cleo laughed.

“Oh? Do you have a better word for waking up from a coma to finding your mate on a pirate ship, learning your house burned down, and your pack was taken over by a rival Alpha, then getting swept up in a hurricane and spending your first few nights with your mate sleeping in the sand?”

I laughed, shaking my head as I looked back over the water, watching as the two skiffs made their way back to the shore.

“You’ve hardly touched your soup, Maeve,” Cleo scolded. I shrugged, bringing my knees to my chest again.

*I’m not very hungry.”

Cleo gave me a motherly look of disapproval, then looked away, leaning into a conversation with Myla.

I let the night wrap around me, enjoying the cool breeze coming off the waves. I saw Troy jump off one of the boats, walking through the waves as he guided it up onto the sand. He was smiling.

had happened to him after he cut the skiff loose. He had been reluctant to talk about it at first, but eventually opened up about it the night before as we laid in his tent

missed the skiff by only a few feet. He had been tossed across the deck, crushed against the

before the storm passed over. Troy had managed to climb up the stairs to the helm where he gripped the steering wheel for dear life, trying to angle the boat

other or the ship behind. He had gotten the women onto one of the skiffs. I

him what I remembered, which was practically nothing after I hit the water. I tried to remember what had happened in the water, but it was though my memory had been wiped clean of the trauma. I told him

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14:48

Waves

total silence, my head resting against his chest. I fell asleep to his heartbeat and the slow roll of

breaking out of my musings. He had a bowl of soup in

direction, the sharp, salty smell

the sand.

had passed between Troy and Cleo. A wave of fury washed over for

you

coming out harsh and slightly cold. I cleared my throat, mumbling an apology under my breath

I hated it. I just wanted

several sizes too large for me, and set them outside the tent, careful not to track sand onto the blanket. Supplies had been brought off the Persephone after the storm and carried on the skiffs to the beach camp: clothes and linen and

And for

her voice soft

sniffled, burying my

the edge of the blanket, her hand hovering over my ankle for a moment before she touched me, gently, the weight of her hand a slight

tears from my face, feeling totally idiotic. I never cried just for the hell of it. I rarely cried at all,

fact.

started

at her, glaring,

hadn’t thought about it at all since leaving the castle. It hadn’t

on the time that had passed,

ankle and sending a sudden rush of comfort and fatigue

at her. Cleo was a midwife. She worked with the pregnant women in Old Town and even Mirage on a daily basis.

said quickly, swallowing the anxiety budding in my throat, “I have another week,

soft smile on her face, “Premenstrual

“What?”

attitude at the fire, Maeve. Do