Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 7 : Another Beautiful Man

♦Xander*

I'm not sure what I saw looking in our window. Every single hair on my arms was standing on end as I stood on the porch, squinting into the pitch-black night. A soft breeze was rustling the grain in the distance. It was overcast. The entire area was bathed in nothing but blackness.

I'd seen eyes. I knew that much. And they had been looking past me, trying to catch a glimpse of Lena.

I leaned on the railing, gripping it so tightly the muscles of my arms flexed with tension. I looked down the pathway toward the bunkhouse, narrowing my eyes at the single light that was on inside.

Had some creep snuck out of the bunkhouse and peered into our window, not expecting me to be awake?

I hardly ever slept. Not deeply, at least. I'd spent the last four hours listening to Lena's labored breathing as she suffocated herself in her sleeping bag. I'd finally reached over and unzipped it, just enough for the skin of her neck to be exposed to the cool air in the room.

And when I'd turned back around, I'd seen it. Two eyes looking right at US through the window. Had they been glowing? Or was it only the fact I'd been on the edge of sleep that made them look that way?

I looked back over the open field once more, glaring into the night.

"She's mine," I whispered, hoping whatever or whoever it was that was lingering nearby was close enough to hear me.

I locked the door on my way in and opened every cabinet, looking for something to cover the window with. I found a hammer, but no nails or tacks. That didn't matter to me. I searched around the room and settled on the wobbly side table next to the armchair and broke one of the legs off of it, pulling out two nails and closing them in my fist.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lena was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, now dressed in an oversized tee shirt. Her legs and feet were bare, which sent a thrill through me as I rose to my full height.

"I told you, you were going to get too hot."

She ignored me, crossing her hands over her chest and stepping out of my way as I sidestepped around her to get back into the bedroom.

“Why did you break that table?"

"I needed nails."

"For what? Why were you outside?"

"It’s the middle of the night, Lena. Stop asking me so many questions," I murmured, holding the nails between my teeth as I measured the width of the window with my hands. I looked around the room, settling my gaze on the pillow I'd been using only minutes before. "Hand me that pillowcase."

"Why?"

"We need a curtain. Just do it."

She gave me a skeptical look, but to my surprise she followed my directions, sliding the pillowcase off the thin, useless pillow and handing it to me. I held it against the wall and drove one of the nails through it, and then again on the other side of the window, so the pillowcase covered the window entirely.

"Why couldn't you have just asked for curtains in the morning?"

at it, deciding it would be best to sleep with it, or at least have it nearby in case whoever was looking in our window decided to do anything they would likely

“Fine," she whispered.

in her voice. I waited for her to climb back into her sleeping bag before I sat on the edge of my bed myself, sliding the hammer under the bed

timid enough for me to turn to look down at her, noticing the apprehension in her eyes.

"Why? Are you scared?"

with

her, reaching over to pat her shoulder. She flinched away from me, glaring before she turned to face the wall

my hands resting on my chest. I couldn't find the nerve to close

could just lay there and rest, taking long, slow breaths, and still feel well tomorrow. I could nap, perhaps, knowing Lena would be in the company of others. Unless, of course, whoever had been peering in our window had been

later I found it hard to keep my eyes open. I finally surrendered to sleep, and the last thing I envisioned were Lena's pale gray eyes narrowing in my direction like they had

didn't like the feeling it gave me, like I was being watched,

liked it or not... whether she liked

***

♦Lena*

breakfast in the bunkhouse, which was a small square shaped building

with several bookshelves stocked with books from nearly every genre available. I found that comforting as I sat in the dining room, picking at my plate of bacon and eggs while everyone else chatted amiably over mugs of coffee and plates heaped

the table, eyeing everyone suspiciously. He looked rather menacing as I peered at him over the rim of my coffee mug. I raised my brow at him as he met my eye, and he softened his expression, sighing as he

night, but he was still acting super weird. But I didn' t know him that well, so maybe this wasn't weird for him. Maybe he always acted like

pulled back into a tight ponytail as she began to gather the dishes. I rose, drinking the last of my

cup down and turning

to go see what we're dealing with?" she said, holding the door open for me as I stepped

fields of grain, most of which had gone to seed. We were heading toward the section of the farm that was in the southwest corner

patches of herbs as we crested a shallow hill, their perky green leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. But I saw something else, something that I'd

side of the fence?" I asked as we walked down the

"We don't know."

spots that dappled

than I can," she answered, shrugging her shoulders. "That’s him,

crackled with static, someone's voice coming through the speaker. She motioned me forward, pointing to the old man who was crouched in the herb garden, his back

on her face as she turned from US and began to walk back up the hill. I looked to the left, seeing the manor in the distance,

to look at, honestly," Henry said, his back still turned to me. I stopped walking, standing ten or so yards away from him. "The house, I mean. It's falling to pieces like

bit the inside of my cheek as I tucked a lock of hair

Lena,” I said, giving him

said. I pursed my lips and walked forward, gingerly stepping between the herbs as I made my way closer to Henry. He had a basket

will be, officially, when I

response. I

were having issues with the

off. I opened my mouth to respond, but he stood, handing me his basket and pointing to the valerian roots. "They’re supposed to look like that,”

seeing the spindly roots blackened and withered. I looked up at him, thoroughly confused. ‘My partner said he

the soil," he