Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 130 : He’s Back

*Lena*

Two Months Later

Mom turned a letter over in her hands, peering down at the return address with a skeptical eye. I looked up from the pile of letters scattered in front of me on the long table in the library at the Castle of Drogomor, situated on the outskirts of Mirage.

“Who is that one from?" I asked, extending a hand.

She wordlessly handed me the letter, but I didn't recognize the name.

“Who is Warren?" I asked before ripping it open. I unfurled the paper and then set it down on the table.

Mom arched her brow at me. “What?"

“This isn't for us," I said, sliding the letter to the side. “It's for Grandpa, I think."

“Well, what does it say?"

“He'll kill us if we read his mail!"

“Your grandfather doesn't live here," she said with a little laugh, snatching up the letter before I could stop her. We'd been blocking out at least two hours a day reading through the letters that had been arriving at the castle recently. Most of it was for Dad, but the Alpha King of Valoria had been in Breles for the last two weeks trying to get the radio towers and landline system working again. We were picking up his slack, as a good Luna and princess would do, of course.

“Why would anyone send mail meant for Grandpa here?" I prodded, but Mom's brow began to furrow as she quickly read through the letter's contents, then abruptly rose from her seat. “What?" I said quickly, adrenaline prickling my fingertips. “What's wrong?"

“Nothing's wrong," she murmured, but she looked entirely confused as her gaze flicked to the top of the letter and she started reading it over again. “This is from–"

I snatched the letter out of her hands and darted toward the window, where pale morning sunlight was filtering through the stained glass. Rainbows of light danced across the muted pink cotton dress I was wearing.

“Dear Elder Gray," I began, reading it aloud. “I'm responding to an inquiry regarding an open position on the High Elder Council in the Realm of Light. My Alpha King has chosen me for the position, and I'm writing with my intentions to accept the position to serve on your council. I'm under the impression Soren Black was originally the one called to serve, but he has graciously declined–"

Mom exhaled audibly as she dropped into one of the armchairs by the dormant hearth. It was summer, and there was no need for a fire. I could already feel the heat that was threatening to embrace Mirage, and it was only morning. I glanced at her, trying to read her expression before I continued.

“I am the brother and ally of Theo of Egoren and his mate Ciana."

The rest of the letter was just… business. The man asked about lodgings and accommodations for his family, where he would live. What this role would entail.

said, my chest tightening with excitement, “Warren

chest and turned to fully face the window. The Castle of Drogomor was miles and miles away from the

to myself. Mom was squeezing the bridge

be! Why would mail arrive from Egoren if people from that realm hadn't been the ones to bring it through the portal in the first

“Lena–"

door to the library, my

“Lena!"

around to face Mom, who let out

“What?"

the port. This could have been sent from anywhere, and we

over to her and dropped the letter in her lap, waving a hand in

sounds like Dad's

“Lena!"

port right now. I had to find him, or at least a way to contact him if he

are not going

by train!" I

“You're pregnant–"

am I going to give birth on the

based on your last

the floor as I chewed

won't go into

the mention of Alexis, her soon to be granddaughter. We'd taken to calling her by

a baby suddenly felt real. I was going to be a mother, which had always been my absolute dream, but had never

here for it. He'd missed my anatomy scan, where Mom and I got to see every little finger

before Oliver sealed the portal forever. Warriors from every pack still lingered in the west, and the High Elder Council was hard at work alongside the Alphas of our realm as they tried to piece together the fractured communities in the west who were

plenty of space for the refugees of Breles to go in the sprawling metropolis where more than a dozen territories bled into one massive city. Drogomor, my own pack, had taken many of the refugees from Breles into what was simply called “Old Town," a medieval-looking area with stone buildings and cobblestone streets dusted with magnolia petals. As the princess, I'd taken it upon

the wounds of the war ran deep. Hospitals were still full. So many families had been left without one or both parents. An orphanage had been set up in Old Town to house the children who had nowhere

with children, especially after my brief stint as a teacher in Cedar Hollow. I found

my mind off my mate and

my mom a look that said I was not taking no for an answer. “I just… I'll go to the post office and see if

her head, and I was off in a flash

***

office looked down at the envelope the letter from Warren had been in, her brow knitted in a