Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 75 : Stay Where You Are

*Lena*

Adrian was gone before I'd risen from bed the next day. A scribbled note on the dining room table simply said he'd be back in a week's time, and that was it. Clare had gone home shortly after I heard Xander's voice ring out through my soul, her face lacking its normal luster and her eyes distant, shadowed with confusion.

She said she'd felt fear and chaos.

I felt worse now than I had when Xander disappeared. I knew in my gut that something was wrong, and that nagging feeling I'd been ignoring that told me he hadn't just run off and left me for good was sounding in my mind as I made the strongest cup of coffee imaginable and sat on the front porch, letting soft gray daylight drift over my skin.

I closed my eyes and reached for the little thread of power I knew I had that tied me to those people like Clare who had the power to see–or feel, in her case–into the future and decipher the mysteries of the present. But that power I knew I possessed had been lying dormant for so long. It was just out of reach as I opened my eyes again, watching as the clouds darkened and trickles of rain began to patter against the thatched roof over the porch.

If, and when, we found Xander… I'd have to go back to my family, to my parents. I'd have to find Clare and Sasha refuge. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Adrian was looking for the man who had assaulted Clare and fathered Sasha, and as I sat on the porch, drinking my coffee with milk, I began to wonder why she hadn't mentioned Hale at all during our conversation.

He was the Alpha, and Sasha was his niece. Wouldn't he have done something about it?

A sinking feeling crept over me as I pulled my robe around me and slouched into the rocking chair. Mist wafted off my mug of coffee, and I sipped it carefully as I gazed blankly at the bare trees in the distance.

Clare hadn't told her family the real story–not her father, not Hale, not the older brother who passed away.

The whispers about her I'd heard in the village and at the market suddenly made so much sense. She was wearing a mark on her, bright and bold for the whole world to see. She was a princess, the daughter of the late Alpha, and sister to the new one. And, she'd held her chin up high while the rumors swirled around her. I'd heard her be called a slut, a w***e, all kinds of terrible names. Before I knew the truth, I had actually believed those names held weight.

“You're an awful person, Lena," I whispered into my coffee.

My chest was tight with nerves as I rocked, and rocked, and rocked. I was sick of this, all of it–the magic, the bloodlines. How hard would it have been to be born into a normal family? If my parents had conceived me just a second later, would my soul have ended up halfway across the pack lands, and another soul taken my place?

I closed my eyes and drained the mug, the liquid burning the tip of my tongue, but I didn't care. I had things to do today, normal things–errands and chores. I had lesson plans for the next week to write, and I needed to study the curriculum and materials I'd be using to help teach my kindergarteners to read.

I realized in that moment how torn I truly was. Despite everything, I couldn't let go of who I really was, who I'd always be deep down. I'd forever carry the responsibility of my birthright, of my lineage. I couldn't hide from it. I shouldn't hide from it.

Xander had been right.

I rose from the rocking chair once my fingers began to tingle with cold. The rain was coming down in earnest now, pelting the roof with fervor as the clouds darkened and swirled overhead. I dressed warm, but was in need of a new sweater, and some new socks. I'd been planning to spend the day in the village doing some shopping.

But I also had two letters to mail.

Once I was dressed, I grabbed an umbrella and tucked the letters in my bag and headed out, walking the distance from my cottage on the outskirts of the village to the center of town. I glanced through the rain at the castle situated high on a mountain bluff, its many windows grayed and bleak in the downpour.

Maybe I should go up there? I did want to talk to Clare again. I wanted to see Sasha, too.

***

The postman gave me a once over, nodding his head at the thick wool sweater I was wearing over a pure silk turtleneck undershirt I'd purchased at a shop in town. He smiled softly, his wispy gray hair trembling as he said, “My wife made that sweater. Took her days."

“She did?" I replied warmly, running my fingers over the wool, which was soft to the touch and designed with colorful, multicolored stripes and swirls. It was incredibly loud compared to the muted neutrals I normally wore, but everyone in Cedar Hollow dressed in sweaters. I figured my class would love this, too. It was playful, childlike, and had every color of the rainbow. “I love this sweater so much," I said, and I meant it.

The postman smiled as I handed him my two letters. He glanced at the addresses, then back up at me. He slid one down on the counter, a letter to Abigail, and held the one I was sending to Oliver into the light.

“You're sending this to the Palace of Poldesse?"

I shrugged, forcing a blush to erupt over my cheeks. “Fan mail," I lied. “My students drew one of the princes a picture, and I promised I'd mail it."

That was enough for the postman, and hopefully enough for the letter to make it through to Oliver. The return address was to the school, and my alias, Ms. Grayleigh, was hopefully enough to tip Oliver off as to who it could really be from–at least I hoped.

Abigail's letter had a return address to my cottage, however. She was the only one besides Adrian who knew I was here.

I dropped a few coins on the counter to pay for the postage and took my leave, shaking out my wet umbrella under the covered entrance of the post office before opening it and stepping out onto the cobblestone street. There were no cars here. There were no phones, either. It was as remote as possible.

With my errands complete, I turned toward home, but the castle caught my eye once more.

I had nothing else to do but sweep the floors of the cottage and maybe run myself a bath. I reached up and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear, which was far easier now than when it was short, and made my way to the castle.

***

I was panting by the time I made it up to the castle. There was a road, which was mud soaked and sunken in spots, but it may have been an easier trek than the stone staircase that zigzagged up the side of the bluff. I cursed aloud as I leaned forward, resting my hands on my knees to catch my breath before walking through the front garden toward the front doors. How did Clare and Sasha make this journey every day during the week for school? No wonder Sasha could climb trees better than the first and second graders.

I looked up as the front doors opened and an elderly woman stepped outside, squinting in the rain. I straightened up, coughing and choking as I fought for breath before giving her a short wave and shaking the rain from my umbrella and closing it as I walked toward her.

The front doors were the grandest part of the castle. They were huge and made of rich, solid dark wood. Stained glass took up most of the door, an intricate design that depicted an amber wolf standing amongst the redwood trees visible when the doors were fully shut.

The castle itself was rather plain, however–made of dark stone, and built like a box, not a curve or terrace in sight.

“Can I help you?" the woman asked.

I nodded, gulping before I opened my mouth to reply that I was here to see Clare, but Hale stepped out around the woman, patting her gently on the shoulder.

“It's alright, Mulva. This is Sasha's teacher, Lena. Could you have Reginald put on some tea?"

***

I was thankful for the heat blaring from the fireplace in the library, which was small and cozy compared to the libraries in the Palace of Poldesse and the Castle Drogomor. I was drying off next to the hearth when Hale handed me a cup of tea, a soft smile on his handsome face.

“I'm not Adrian's wife," I blurted, unable to stop myself.

His cheeks colored, but he nodded his head and looked somewhat relieved.

“I didn't think you were," he said with a little laugh as he poured himself a cup of tea from an ornate kettle sitting on the tray on the table between us. “He's a bit abrasive. I didn't think that was your–uh–type."

I blushed, then felt a wave of guilt wash over me. I liked Hale. He was handsome, of course. But he was also incredibly kind and soft-spoken. He was the exact opposite of Xander in terms of personality, and if I was being honest, I liked that. I liked it a lot.

I had no reason to feel guilty, right? Xander took off on me anyway. At least, I was trying to convince myself of that, even if all the evidence we had pointed in an entirely different direction. I looked into Hale's eyes, which were creased with pleasure just by my being there in his company.