Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Chapter 57: Madalynn‘s Son

Maeve- The Persephone

I climbed the stairs to the upper deck, wrapping a loosely woven shawl over my shoulders as I stepped into the light of the moon. Una and her people had supplied us aplenty, ensuring we had food, tools, and clothing for our journey.

Our journey through the Southern Pass.

I was thankful to have more feminine clothing to choose from now, soft silks and flowing fabrics that I favored over the tight britches and poofy, oversized shirts worn by the crew.

But Troy was back in his usual garb, the white of his shirt glistening in the moonlight reflecting off the water. He was sitting against a crate, his head bent over a large sketchbook and a pencil in his hand. He looked up as I approached, a soft smile touching his lips. “I thought you were asleep?” he said as I moved in on him.

“I wasn’t tired,” I said honestly, sitting down next to him and looking out over the deck. The sails were tied in place, wrapped snuggling around the masts as the engines purred beneath us. The Persephone was moving as silent as a ghost through the water, too far south to be picked up on the radars of other ships in the Isles of Denali to the north. We were safe. For now.

I pulled my shawl tighter, slightly chilled by the soft breeze. It had been warm in our room, but the side of the bed where I expected Troy to be sleeping was cold to the touch when I woke from a restless half-slumber. We hadn’t had a single private moment together in the last twenty-four hours. Myla, Pete, and I had reached the beach camp just as the skiffs were coming back to pick up the last of the tents. Troy was already on board the Persephone, pouring over maps on the main deck with Keaton by his side, the two of them trapped in a long, drawn-out conversation about the plan, whatever that would be.

Thad hoped he’d at least come to bed with me once the Persephone breached the southern channel and we began to rock in open water. But he wasn’t there when! woke up

I bit my lip as I sat beside him, a question weighing heavily on my mind.

“Did Una tell you?” I breathed, nerves tightening my throat as I spoke.

“That you’re pregnant?” he replied, his voice steady and calm. “Yes, she… she did.” He was silent for the space of a breath, looking over at me with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Troy!” I exclaimed, unable to stop myself. I had had a nagging, overwhelming sense that he would be upset, maybe even angry at the news. He looked shocked though, setting his sketchbook down and taking my hand, knitting his fingers in mine.

“Why the hell are you apologizing?”

“Because I know… I know this wasn’t what you wanted to happen!”

He gaped at me, his brows knitting into a confused frown. “Maeve-”

“You were never my breeder!”

“Well, uh. Obviously, I was.” He gave me a sly smile, rubbing the palm of my hand with his thumb. “We weren’t doing much to… not get pregnant.”

I swallowed, surprised by his reaction. I remembered our conversation during our lakeside dinner in Dianny, where the strange powers of the valley seemed to pull us together, making us less reserved with our words. Four boys? He had repeated. His eyes had been full of happiness.

“It’s twins,” I said weakly, hoping I was interpreting his reaction to my pregnancy correctly.

“Oh, Goddess. What are we going to do?!” he laughed, eyes twinkling in the moonlight

“Are you happy?” | asked.

“I’m nervous, Maeve. If I’m being honest.” He swallowed, looking suddenly serious. “They technically wouldn’t be… mine. That’s how this works.”

gripped his hand. “No. That

heirs to Drogomor. Even if

heen your breeder-”

“Drogomor is gone.”

I tricked you,

do you

pulled his knees into his chest, letting go of my hand as he wrapped his

growing up, remember?” He paused, pursing

have to do

them to be raised without me. I don’t know how to be a dad.” His words sliced through

felt like I was going to

I just… they deserve more than I can give them. What am I, Maeve? An orphan, a beach rat,

too harsh to hide. He

pulling me to him, resting his chin on the top of my head as I laid my head on his chest. We sat quietly for a moment, holding each other. “I

she the woman in your old sketchbook? The one you

It’s not even my memory, Maeve. It was my father’s description of her. He said…” He trailed off, clearing his

I said, shock evident in

for war

but the answer was suddenly clear. I straightened

answer passed silently between

me?

wasn’t your parents,

“But

know,

only heard her name in passing once when

not until Romero said it. I thought he had been my paternal grandfather, but he

your dad? Who

bit his

I didn’t actually know his name until he dropped me off at Damian’s court when I was four or five. Four, I believe. My last memory of him was.. |-” He exhaled, shaking his head, the memory obviously troubling him. “I followed him back to the beach. I was crying for him. He kept pushing me away. He ran from me, and I couldn’t keep up with him. I never saw

most painful things I had ever imagined, of him, more of a toddler than a little boy, trying desperately to keep up with his father as his father was trying to abandon him. I couldn’t bear it. Tears welled in my eyes as

before that are too fleeting and fragmented to remember fully. I remember a small house near the beach. I remember being alone often. I remember a meal he used to make all the time, homemade noodles with a red sauce made from the tomatoes he grew in the garden. I can still smell it. But I don’t remember his voice anymore. I

“Troy… I’m so sorry.”

nothing to be sorry about,” he said, shaking the memory

15171

were just a

looked at me, eyes full of unreadable emotions. He reached out and stroked my cheek, pressing his forehead against mine so the tips of our noses were

between my hands, kissing him. It was a long, easy kiss, something / had wanted to do for a while. “We’ll be there for them, both of us. We have to.” | said, a silent plea trembling in my

pulled away,

you find

mate?” He laughed, throwing his head back. “Who do you think you are to