Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 38 :1 Made a Huge Mistake

♦Lena*

Crimson Creek faded from view, its lights just a shimmer on the far horizon as the train rumbled forward through the slow rolling hills. The train car was dark: the few passengers sharing our journey were settling in their seats, closing their eyes.

Seven hours until we reached Morhan.

I glanced at Xander, who was sitting opposite me. He had a magazine in his hands and was staring blankly at it. His eyes flicked up to meet mine, and I quickly looked away, a feeling of absolute dread washing over me.

We'd ended things. Mutually. Even if we hadn't actually said the words that whatever we had been was done. I didn't know why he'd chosen to sit so close to me when there were rows and rows of empty seats.

The constant vibration of the train began to lull me into a stupor, my eyelids growing heavy with sleep. I looked over at Xander one last time before closing my eyes.

Let bygones be bygones, I thought with distress.

It was over.

It was time to go home.

I'd built this place. Every pebble along the edge of the clear pond, every drop of water cascading from the gentle waterfall lapping down the dark chunks of granite leading to the forest above. This glen was mine, every inch of it. I'd made the emerald grass so soft it felt like cashmere against my bare toes, and the glistening dew that dusted the grass wasn’t wet, or cold.

Ivy climbed up the trucks of the weeping willows that encircled my haven. Thickets of honeysuckle grew along the side of a workshop, its walls painted blue and dappled with stars.

I hadn't been here in years. I'd locked this place away in my mind, keeping it safe.

Time hadn't touched my glen, my secret garden. Pockets of sunlight drifted through the willows and dusted the grass as I walked forward, breathing deeply the heavy scent of hyacinth and hydrangea.

The door to the workshop was well-oiled and didn't make a sound as I opened it. Shelves full of paint lined one wall, and a large built-in hutch was on the far side, filled to the brim with paper, canvas, pencils, and pens. I breathed in the scent of ink. my body letting go of the tension I'd been carrying.

A short while later. I was sitting at the edge of the pond with my sketchbook propped on my knees. I was sketching the small golden fish that lived in the pond, their scales reflecting like jewels in the crisp, clear water.

I decided at that moment that I had no reason to leave this place. I had everything I needed. The weather was always warm. It never rained. I had an abundance of flowers and plants to look at and study.

No one could find me here. It was only for me. Just me. No one was here to tell me what to do, how to think, who to be.

I placed my hand on the grass, gripping the emerald tufts between my fingers. Purple clover began to sprout around my touch, blossoming right before my eyes. I smiled, flipped the page of my sketchbook, and began to draw the purple blooms.

But my pencil didn't make a single mark. I lifted the leaden tip and turned it, eyeing the pointed edge with interest. I tried again, but the pencil disintegrated against my touch, turning to dust.

“What-"

long willow branches tremble, dragging their leaves through the water. I looked up where the stut was filtering througli the canopy as tiny

There was no direction to the voice, it was just there, echoing over the water and wafting on the breeze. "Builder

voice had simply been there, and it had likely been there before I even laid the foundation of my dreamlike garden. I assumed it was just my subconscious manifesting itself. The voice knew all of my secrets and desires. It was like an imaginary friend, in a way, and had been so since I was

in the

watching the white specks continue to dance over the water.

do them

I said simply. "Did you miss me. voice? I haven't been here

not of time,

"Alt, yes. I forgot."

througli the glass pane of a window. I watched them for a

life is starting soon, I believe," I whispered, tilting my head toward

softly, the sound earned away by the breeze. "What's different this

narrowing my

"How did you know?"

for you. He's trying to wake you

heavy fluorescent light of the train car. Xander was shaking me by the shoulders, concern darkening his features. I swatted him. pushing him

asleep!" I hissed, then glanced around. The train was stopped and passengers were beginning

to pull our bags from the overhead bin. He roughly tossed me my duffle bag, and I caught it,

the strap of the duffle bag over my shoulder, rising from my seat, but then looked down. I

clover had sprouted from the carpet, its tiny leaves tangled in the

he said sternly, trying to take me by the elbow, but I shoved past him and hurried down

snow-covered platform. Xander was right behind me. grasping me by the hood of my jacket

the hell

what you're

thought you were dead," he said, leaning close to hiss in my ear. "You were sitting there with

I sidestepped around him and tiudged through

follow. But I could feel his gaze on me as I walked off the platform and onto the

evidence pertaining to the estate. I adjusted the weight of my duffle bag as I walked up the street, feeling like an outsider

first floor flooding into the street. I looked up at the

in

"Lena." Xander said.

only twenty yards away, his hands

heart. He shifted his weight, tilting his head a

you sure?" he said, his voice

yards, that was it. I could run to him.

to know you," he said, his