Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 288

Chapter 68: Death of a White Queen Hanna The waves were lapping against the shore in a graceful, rhythmic pattern. I like this water.

It was frigid, biting, and sent a jolt of electricity through my body whenever I reached my hand down into the rocks and let it glide over my bare skin.

Rowan swam in it on occasion.

I loved to watch him as he did laps back and forth along the breakwater where the water was calm and safe from the swirling rip currents.

We had been taking long walks together lately, always ending at the port.

I would perch on a rock and watch him dive into the water, his chestnut hair clinging to his skin as he moved gracefully against the heavy silt.

Like a seal, I thought with a smile.

Or an otter.

My Rowan.

How odd we must seem to other people.

We were not the typical mates.

We’d known each other for almost three months and had yet to touch more than occasionally intertwining our fingers while we walked.

We barely spoke, in fact.

But I found solace in our silence.

Rowan had never once chastised me for my uncontrollable powers.

He never judged, rejected, or ignored me.

I was just Hanna to him.

Not a witch.

Not a dream dancer.

I was just the girl I hadn’t yet had a chance to be.

Watching him board the seaplane once again stung more than it had the first time.

They were all going, the men, leaving us women behind while they congregated with the Alphas of the East to settle things in Mirage.

I stood on the bluff overlooking the port while the plane took off and circled over the village until it disappeared into the low hanging clouds, and I could feel Rowan’s presence no more.

This time was different and would be different.

I wasn’t a stranger to Rowan’s people any longer.

Rosalie was interested in me, enthused by my powers.

She could sense them and make sense of them in a way no one else had done before, save for my mother before she died.

Even Kacidra had softened to me, opening up her heart and accepting me for who, and whatever, I was.

And then there was Gemma, who had the strangest aura about her, something that pulled me in and kept me hooked on her every movement and every word.

She had felt so familiar to me in the same way Rosalie felt familiar.

I often wondered if Gemma had powers of her own, something buried deep inside, something dormant.

But that didn’t matter at the moment.

I was standing along the shore as Rosalie, Kacidra, and Otto’s wife Shelly fussed over the row of white roses that lined the stone fence along the inner wall of the cemetery further up the hill.

The Temple to the Moon Goddess was nestled snugly in a crop of tall spruce trees overlooking the water, and the voices of the women carried on the soft breeze that touched my cheek as I closed my eyes and breathed deeply the scents of salt and pine.

I was supposed to be here right now.

I felt it in my bones.

Why, I didn’t know.

It had taken some coaxing to get Shelly to join us on this trip.

The temple was a good thirty minute walk from the village, and she was reluctant to leave her young children behind.

But I knew there was more to it.

Shelly didn’t worship the Goddess.

She had been reeling from the events Rowan had described during one of our walks.

She was a strange person in a strange land, someone who didn’t quite fit in.

Much like myself.

I hadn’t had a single conversation with Shelly, but I felt a bond with her, nonetheless.

Kacidra called out, her voice mingling with the

at her, her blonde hair swaying in the

had been holding and turned to

successfully pulled myself in and out of my dreams

confirmed she was safe and

something I wasn’t sure I

go with me into the spirit

about

spray, and turned toward the temple, tucking my hands in the pockets of

me comfort as I maneuvered over the rocks to

as I entered the cemetery through the rusted gate, closing it behind

arms were full of roses, and a hint of smile was evident on the corner of her

she continued to converse with kacidra, who

gone inside the

smell the matches she used to light the candles at the altar

an odd rush of air touch my skin despite

candles didn’t

downy hairs on my arms and neck rose as I watched Rosalie move around the altar,

drifting down from the stained-glass windows, the reflection rippling over her hair and cheek as she turned to light a

the lump in my throat as I

etched out of pure granite, crafted as though the temple had been built around

was outstretched, fingers splayed and palm facing the ceiling The fingers of that hand were darkened from centuries of being touched by parishioners who knelt before the statue, reaching their

ever prayed to the Moon

But I sought her.

sought her in my

thought, if I could only catch a glimpse of her, maybe I would know her reasons

that I was standing before

Unsure.

“I don’t think we should do this,

turned around, her

force you

I promised you that.”

don’t think 1-1

wrong? What

her

why I

roses on the altar that was situated between the stone benches and the statue, her fingers lingering on the petals as she watched me with a careful eye, “I don’t know

me,

I couldn’t deny her desires to see Maeve alive

a stoic woman, but a silent

carried herself with dignity and

never let us see her falter or give in to

her, but an overwhelming part of me told me that whatever she

and

U

need to

need to see

to…to understand how this

What this means.

just for us,

for Maeve, and Rowan.” “1-1 know-” “You and I are

you for something I have to

want…you and Rowan, and I

know for

I

leaning against my deeply rooted anxieties about attempting to take Rosalie, the White Queen herself,

to try,”

I nodded tightly.

had come

roses they carried

we doing this?” Kacidra asked bluntly, leaning against the

her, then me, her expression softening as she smiled and

think I’M just hold her hand, see if she

sounds too

gave her a motherly look of warning, then turned her attention back to

towards the statue nonchalantly, her eyes

we just need

be able to

that makes sense I know your method

all we can do,” she smiled, but I could sense her

about the idea of her being able to Dream

impossible, in

she was a White Queen If

a deep breath, looking over my shoulder at kacidra and

nervous

looked oddly excited and

the silent

toward Rosalie, my eyes flitting

practiced, and practiced until I got

confident in my abilities to will

always find

I worried