Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 5

“Alpha!” Talon greeted the man with respect.

The giant, gorgeous man acknowledged him with a simple nod, an aura radiating off of him that reeked of authority.

He looked towards Estrella, who immediately pulled out her report. “Alpha, Miss Rosasile is still quite weak, but with proper care, she should be much better in two weeks.”

His expression didn’t change, but he moved as she spoke.

He was coming towards me!

I had never seen such movement—graceful and swift, faster than any wolf I had ever encountered.

So fast that, in the blink of an eye, he was at my bedside.

The faint scent of musk surrounded me. The earthly aroma reminded me of the forest on a rainy day, and it replaced the smell of sterile chemicals in the ward. It was cold but almost psychedelic, just like him.

I couldn’t help but lower my head. Through the gap in my hair, I saw his black leather shoes stop right next to my bed, with the toe of the shoe aimed in my direction.

He had to be staring at me! I didn’t need to see to know that.

“Look up,” he commanded.

His voice was deep, very deep. It struck me and sent shivers through my whole body. Pausing for a moment, I put myself together.

The cold reflection from his metal cufflinks came into my view. His hand had already stretched toward my face. His fingers were long, neither bulky nor too slim—just perfect, and full of power.

What was I thinking? Rosalie, stop focusing on the wrong things!

Within a second, his hand clamped down on my chin, his fingers strong and hot, pressing hard—forcing my head up.

He was clearly not a patient man.

was grateful that my long, loose

at me,” he

lifted my eyes to look

dare refuse—no one dared to disobey

glow around him, and I couldn’t help but think that he looked like a

between his well-defined, jet-black eyebrows. He was frowning, as if he

down, his piercing blue eyes locked onto me, like a falcon honing in on its prey. I was that prey, trembling, wondering whether the next second he would just swoop down and seize me, either take me straight up into the cloudy sky or throw me down on the craggy

breathe. The only sound I could hear was a

the corner of my eyes, I saw his right arm moved. Almost instinctively, my body tensed and I half-flinched—I was expecting a slap to land on my face, as that was what my father would have done—but I stopped myself, because I still remembered his order to not

barely

slap never

the hair away from my face. My hair tickled my cheeks, and I smelt the gentle scent of his musk again enveloping me

blue orbs scanned over my own, as if he

those blue eyes had been like an angry sea, ready to devour lives at any time. But now, when he looked at me closely, the waves of

then did I realize what a clear and beautiful

and anxiety faded away—only the pure blue in his

seen when I was all the way up on my swing in my backyard. I was seven at that time, and my mother’s laughter and my father’s non-deterrent reproaches

was all

though… I saw my own reflection—a helpless girl, sitting on a hospital bed, wearing a white dress that was gifted by her mother as a symbol of happiness, being forced to look up

to cry, but I

to suppress the moan that wanted to escape from me. Never had I felt this

my face, and took a step back

the scent of his musk left me and

“Alpha!”

chance to ask him… Rosalie, I

gathered all my courage and asked the question

the money you gave my father?” I quickly stammered out. “I’ll work really hard as your maid, or any

my knees in the hospital bed, willing to chase after him out the door if

goodness, though, he stopped and turned around, raising his eyebrow. He seemed

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