Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 19: This Was Heat

Maeve

Dinner with the Alpha and Luna of Greenbriar was a spectacular affair. The dining hall had been returned to its formal glory with the long wooden table returned to its rightful place and set with our finest china. The cook had outdone herself tonight; our usual roast meat and potatoes was replaced by an extravagant array of game meats and side dishes, large bowls of exotic fruits and bottles upon bottles of vintage wine.

Ernest was back to his usual self, too. His dry monologue nearly put our guests into a stupor as they gulped their wine. Alpha Julian seemed pleased by the conversation, though, nodding his head and actively listening as Ernest drawled on.

Opaline was nearly overcome by boredom, and I was thankful when she announced she would retire to her room for the night, giving me the freedom to take my leave instead of entertaining her in my seldom used sitting room after dinner.

But then I found myself with several hours of free time before, well, whatever Aaron was planning on doing to me.

I went up to my room and changed out of the evening gown I had worn to dinner, choosing a comfortable, silken nightgown and a matching robe. The fabric felt weightless and luxurious against my skin as I slipped into it. In Winter Forest, I was almost always decked out in thick flannel pajamas no matter the time of year. Our house was heated solely by two wood stoves that we always failed to stoke throughout the night. Dad liked the chore of chopping wood and the accomplishment of heating the house by hand himself, even though a servant could have done it for him, but his simplistic desires caused the rest of us grief and chilly toes by morning.

I looked at myself in the mirror, admiring the new freckles on the bridge of my nose. The sunburn had faded and left a soft pink glow in its wake. I was feeling confident, feeling ready. When Aaron came in, I wouldn’t shy away, I told myself. I’d do what I needed to do, and maybe even enjoy myself.

But an hour passed, then another. I laid sprawled out on the bed looking at the ceiling as the clock chimed ten times, signaling the hour. Nothing. No sound from his room, no footsteps in the hallway.

I rolled out of bed and turned off the light as I left my room, my bare feet soundless as I walked down the stairs and toward the library. There was still life in the castle at this hour. Servants were busy tidying up from the day, and the kitchen was noisy and filled with the sound of running water and clanging dishware.

But the library was quiet, shrouded in soft, inky darkness. Moonbeams fell in long shafts across the rugs on the library’s lower level, dust floating in their wakes. I didn’t even bother lighting a candle as I reached the ladder leading to the upper loft and climbed up to the second story, smiling as I laid eyes upon my favorite place in the entire castle.

The loft was cozy, yet spacious, a corner of it lined with cushions and low-lying chaise lounges. It was large enough to house five rows of bookshelves; however, the space between them was totally shadowed by darkness. No one came up here but me, it seemed. I could leave a book open in the nest of cushions and no one would come and close it or put it away. It was my place, my haven.

I hadn’t been reading long before I heard the library door open and shut and a light move through the dark below me. Someone cleared their throat as they set a candle on a table, then cursed under their breath as something fell and bounced across the carpet.

I crawled on my hands and knees over to the railing, looking down to see Aaron standing in the center of the library, his face tilted up toward the ceiling with a large journal of some sort in his hand and a pencil in the other. I watched him for a moment as he studied the mural above our heads, his pencil moving across the paper with great speed.

his eyes met mine.

screamed too, his outburst scaring the absolute wits

normal and he bent to pick up the journal and pencil he had

gravelly. I got off my knees and stood, gripping the railing. “I thought you were a ghost,

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This Was

“A demon?”

A real pain in my-” He mumbled inaudibly as he righted the

drawing? Were you drawing

in a scowl. “Why weren’t you in your room? I was

waited up for you. It

there?” he asked, closing the

tilting my head to the side. He looked down at the journal in his hands and

the candle he had balanced in one hand. I crept away from the railing, giving him room to climb up over

imagining him with thick, dark brown fur and the same spectacular eyes. He’d be huge, I was sure, lurking in the dark of the night and pawing the ground like he was currently

well-worn leather cover. He sighed deeply, his cheeks flushing a delicate rose as

the lines blurred in spots where his hand had brushed against what looked like hand-pressed paper, some sheets harboring tiny traces of plant

he had drawn two men seated at a small table outside of a bar, rolled cigarettes hanging off of their lips as they bent over a chess board. I could smell the picture, smell the smoke and taste the tang of the bitter ales sitting in the warm sun on

incredible,” I whispered, careful not to

a woman, her face obscure as though he was drawing her from a distant, almost unreachable memory This one was done in color, gentle watercolor marks that pooled in some places. Brown hair, soft peach-colored skin. I looked up at Aaron as a sadness swept over me, tightening around my heart. This was

tassels on one of the

turned the pages as the candle burned down, the flame casting a