Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 16: Don’t Say My Name

Maeve

“He just left? Just got up and left?” Gemma picked at her fingernails, looking over at me from perch on the couch. We were in the atrium, a towering four-story high addition to the backside of the castle where the windows stretched to the ceiling and almost microscopic hoses ran along the beams, showering hundreds of plants in a steady flow of mist. It was what I imagined a jungle would look and feel like.

I fingered one of the leaves of a massive Monstera vine, marveling at the size of a leaf before turning to Gemma and taking a seat at on a wicker lounge chair across from her, folding my hands in my lap. “I don’t think he even, uh, finished?”

Seriously?” She sat up a little straighter, her eyes wide.

“I mean, I don’t know…”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No! Nothing. He just left. I haven’t even seen him since last night. Maybe it wasn’t… good? Good enough for him?”

Gemma rolled her eyes, “Maeve, come on. Ask any man what constitutes good sex and they will say sex in general!”

I blushed, pressing my hands between my thighs. “I must have done something wrong.”

I definitely felt like I had done something wrong. I knew I had been difficult; he had made that very clear. We had ended up in a tangle of sheets on the floor, and not in a sexy way. Oh, yeah, it was my fault. He was expecting me to be submissive, unyielding. I had failed.

“It’s not your fault,” Gemma said gently, her eyes piercing mine as she willed me to believe her. “Something’s up with that guy.”

“What do you mean?”

“He is not what I thought he’d be. Nothing like the Aaron I met when his family visited Winter Forest.”

“Come on, Gem! I told you it’s been ten years since-”

“He looks nothing like he should, Maeve! He was a blond! Kind of a weakling!”

“Who says hair color can’t change? Rowan’s hair was nearly as light as mine until he reached his twenties. Now it’s as dark as Dad’s!”

“His eyes, Maeve? Don’t you think we both would’ve remembered those eyes? How often do you meet someone with eyes of two different colors, hmm?”

“Well, do you remember what his eyes looked like, Gemma? I don’t! He told me they got more pronounced as he got older-”

“Oh please, how is that even possible?”

paused, biting my lip.

“It’s not possible!”

“What are you saying, Gemma? Do you think he’s not that he’s not Aaron? Who else could he be?”

“I don’t know! I’m only saying he rubs me the wrong way, okay? Like he’s hiding something.”

“I think you’re the one hiding something!” I exclaimed, narrowing my eyes at her.

She arched her brow, leaning forward in her chair. I was being defensive, trying to cover my own shame and suspicion by bringing up the one thing I currently had against her. It was a dance we’d done since my childhood, really. Gemma would try to talk some sense into me, and I would clam up, my only option being to accept defeat or throw it back at her. I never accepted defeat.

“Why are you defending Aaron when he—”

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Chapter 16: Don’t Say My Name

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“Why was your sweater in Ernest’s office?”

She blanched, the color draining from her cheeks as she abruptly looked away from me, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “What did he say about it?”

“He looked guilty and embarrassed,” I said, trying to remain heated, but my mouth was twitching into a smile, a laugh choking me.

dismissal, but I could see the same look of embarrassment

was only… I shouldn’t have brought

your business too, huh?

“I’m sorry, too.”

for

his office if you tell me what’s really going on between you and Aaron,” she said, her

the challenge of putting my feelings into words. Gemma was the only person I could talk to about this

you want me to go

and began pacing back and forth in front of me, looking down at the ground. She came to a stop, rounding on me, her eyes glossy with what looked

“Gemma?”

“He’s my mate, Maeve.”

“Who? Ernest?!”

nodded, her face pinking again, a slight smile touching

are

“No. No, we’re not.”

why not? You’ve been waiting to feel the

doesn’t feel it.

the castle. But thinks— I’ve

what did

it. He

me. Gemma was the queen of dragging things along to

felt. I told him I was sure we were mates. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there looking like he was about to

not having anything to say? Ernest,

sound like

to be around him. I couldn’t believe it, you know,

kind of

I tried as hard as I could to keep him off my mind, but the pull-oh, Goddess, the mate bond

“So, you’re sure?”

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Don’t

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could tell by the look behind her eyes that she had never been more sure about something

to him. I’ll find out what his

you can’t.

it matters a

be the reasoning for you even being here, needing a breeder to give Ernest an heir? Don’t see you? I can’t act on this even if he felt

my hands shaking

that’s not

Ernest. If Gemma was Ernest’s mate, then they could have the heir. There’d be no need for me to be here. I would have no need of a breeder. I could walk out of this castle, tonight, nursing my broken heart on the journey home and then think of Aaron again. “I’m going

grabbed my arm as I tried to push past her, her fingernails digging into my skin as I tried to pull away. “Don’t, Maeve. I know what you’re thinking.

“What problems with Aaron?”

true feelings away. She opened her mouth to speak, but we were suddenly interrupted by the glass door of the atrium sliding open, humid

said, crossing my arms over my

“Did we… summon them?”

instantly evaporated and was replaced with his teasing arched brow when he saw the scowl

wicker chairs. He glanced over at Gemma, a soft smile on his

of “I hissed under my breath, stalking toward Ernest with every intention of dragging him out of the atrium and into his

me, grabbing me by the forearm as he leaned down

you had a chance to do that before you ran out of my room last

Gemma sitting on the couch across from him, the two of them leaning into the empty space

a sly smile on his face. “I don’t think he wants to talk

me, of course, and he put his hands on the

into the corridor and began to walk toward the stairwell, taking long strides

and damn near tossing me into a darkened, rarely used

the sharp scent of floor polish. The door had been left ajar, likely to air it out after

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Don’t Say My

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