Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 83 : Common Ground

Troy

Well, I was still alive.

I hadn’t been sure what to expect when we finally reached Maeve’s homeland, but I thought Maeve would have been more at peace.

Instead, I watched her crumble at the edge of her parents’ bed, the moonstones in her hands, realizing the act of bringing them together hadn’t worked.

That had been the first time I met her mother, the famous White Queen Rosalie… my future mother-in-law, if Ethan didn’t kill me before a wedding could take place.

We had been in Winter Forest for a full day at that point, and my conversations with Ethan had been short and to the point. I had turned over Opaline to him. I had returned his daughter to her pack. I had given him a complete report on everything that had happened from the moment I first stepped foot in Valoria to the day our boat pulled into the inlet that hugged the shore of Winters Forest’s main village.

Outside of that, he didn’t even look in my direction.

I was only slightly embarrassed that I fell off the dock in front of him, but Rowan made me look slightly better than himself when he jumped in a second time to help me get the moonstone before it was carried away by the tide.

The icy, glacial water had been a baptism of some kind, something that cemented an unlikely friendship between Maeve‘s brother and

1. me.

So, I wasn’t entirely surprised when I woke up the next morning to Rowan in the doorway of Maeve’s bedroom, peering down at me.

“Why are you sleeping on the floor?” he asked in a whisper, arching his brow.

I ran my fingers through my hair and then over my face, rubbing my eyes. “More room down here,” I tilted my head toward the bed where Maeve was still sleeping like a rock with basically all of the pillows in the house tucked around her body. “What time is it?”

“A little after seven,” he replied, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms over his chest. I looked out the window behind the bed, seeing nothing. It was pitch black. “The sun doesn’t come up until, like, eleven this time of year. You’ll get used to it.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” I blinked a few times, my body and mind not yet acclimated to the strangeness of this place. The sun had set the day before at just after 3:00 p.m., and all my body wanted to do was sleep even though I wasn’t particularly tired.

“It’s hard on everyone for a while,” Rowan continued as I stood and folded up the blanket I had been sleeping on. I laid it over Maeve’s feet, which were peeking out of the thick quilt that she had tucked up around her ears. “How’s she doing?”

I could hear the guilt in his voice as his gaze shifted from me to the bed.

In truth, Maeve wasn’t well. She had cried until she fell asleep the night before, spilling her feelings about her homecoming to me while I held her, whispering reassurances against her neck. Maeve was a wreck, and I couldn’t blame her. It was mostly my fault.

1. me.

So, I wasn’t entirely surprised when I woke up the next morning to Rowan in the doorway of Maeve’s bedroom, peering down at me.

“Why are you sleeping on the floor?” he asked in a whisper, arching his brow.

I ran my fingers through my hair and then over my face, rubbing my eyes. “More room down here,” I tilted my head toward the bed where Maeve was still sleeping like a rock with basically all of the pillows in the house tucked around her body. “What time is it?”

“A little after seven,” he replied, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms over his chest. I looked out the window behind the bed, seeing nothing. It was pitch black. “The sun doesn’t come up until, like, eleven this time of year. You’ll get used to it.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” I blinked a few times, my body and mind not yet acclimated to the strangeness of this place. The sun had set the day before at just after 3:00 p.m., and all my body wanted to do was sleep even though I wasn’t particularly tired.

“It’s hard on everyone for a while,” Rowan continued as I stood and folded up the blanket I had been sleeping on. I laid it over Maeve’s feet, which were peeking out of the thick quilt that she had tucked up around her ears. “How’s she doing?”

I could hear the guilt in his voice as his gaze shifted from me to the bed.

In truth, Maeve wasn’t well. She had cried until she fell asleep the night before, spilling her feelings about her homecoming to me while I held her, whispering reassurances against her neck. Maeve was a wreck, and I couldn’t blame her. It was mostly my fault.

“She’s fine. Tired,” I answered shortly, pulling one of the thick knit sweaters Gretchen had laid out for me over my shoulders. Rowan watched me closely. His eyes were so much like Maeve’s, the same color and shape, in fact. But Rowan looked more like Rosalie in the face, at least in my opinion. He had his father’s jaw, though, which tightened and flexed whenever they held back their words.

“I was hoping she’d be awake, so I could… talk to her. Say hi, I guess.”

until noon most days. It’s a

pursing his lips and tilting his head from side to

want me

before Talon and Ernest get back from Mirage today.” Rowan shifted uncomfortably, then tilted his head toward

smell of breakfast sausage and coffee as she chopped potatoes. She looked up from the butcher block, her eyes creasing as her mouth stretched into a beaming smile. “Good morning!” she exclaimed, setting the knife down and turning to

food and grains for weeks, and no one aboard Damian’s cruiser could cook worth a damn. Yesterday, we‘d been too busy to eat a

breakfast.

my coffee

handsome and patient as I imagined you, Troy dear,” Gretchen said sweetly as she flipped the pancakes. “It certainly takes a specific type of man

was a friendly older woman who exuded what I could only describe as “grandma energy,” and she looked

quiet, humble people. Is Hanna coming up to the house today? I want to send her home with some blueberry jam my granddaughter

Gretchen grabbed two plates from the dishrack. “Could

we continued to drink our coffee. I felt a little shy to the point of being uncomfortable. This was Rowan’s domain. Maeve’s childhood home. I was, to be blunt, an unwanted guest. Surely, Gretchen knew about the situation, having worked so closely

the plastic containers in his hands, thanking Gretchen as she

planning on wearing your helmet, Rowan.

said over his shoulder.

as we reached the stairwell that led down to the garage. I had slept there the night we arrived in Winter Forest, but it had been very dark. I could only make out the immediate area around me, which was a tool bench and a few

I followed

“I’m from the Isles,”

the stairs, and the garage erupted into light. I took a moment to be shocked, then composed myself and swallowed the many, many questions swirling

bikes and several sets of skis and snowboards. A large pickup truck sat idle in the far corner of the garage next to what looked like a tractor, both covered in tarps. I hadn’t been around cars in my life, but I could tell the truck was old… Vintage, some might say. Rowan caught me looking at it and gave me a crooked smile. “It’s Dad’s.

seen a vehicle that old before.” | ran my tongue along the inside of my lower lip, wondering

port, and it’s been sitting in the garage for fifteen years or so now. Mom says it takes up too much

to hide my shock, “I don’t think that matters that much. This place is

snowmobiles and started to grab gear off the shelves on the far wall, pulling down an assortment of gloves and padded jackets. I walked around, glancing at the tool bench before letting my gaze wander further into the

back, a bathroom and what looked like a small office or storage room. I could see an icon bouncing around on what looked like a screen and couldn’t

computer?” I

set down the helmet he was holding and inhaled deeply,

“Yeah, it is.”

I’ve never seen

in his voice, and I

read about

and planes.” The war had destroyed most of the technology to

on my excitement. “I’m building more radio towers. I needed a way to test the frequency needed to connect the packs of Valoria and keep track of the data. It doesn’t do much besides that but…

earnestly, wanting nothing more than for him to show me exactly what

blushing a little more as he balanced the helmet on his hip. “Maybe when we

paused, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “I’m not supposed to like

snowmobiles out. It was arduous work, and I was sweating by the time we had packed the food and coffee into two backpacks and

to

if he could hear me. “You’re not planning on leading me away from the village and stranding me somewhere, are

“You’re not who I was expecting you to be, Troy.

***

I looked out over the village, which seemed to be miles below us, the lights of the cabins

never seen before, so close I felt like I could touch them. A green band of light

why we couldn’t have just shifted,” I said as I set my helmet down on the snowmobile and lifted

than getting snowballs stuck between the pads

yeah. I can

food containers and we sat on our snowmobiles to eat in relative quiet, watching the aurora continue its

not going to apologize for punching you,” Rowan said

putting it in my backpack. He did the same, but kept his