Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 2 : The Man in the Mask

“Please!" I panted, the word catching in my throat and coming out as a hoarse cry. “Please, wait–"

The masked man picked me up with his arm around my waist, hoisting me over an ice-covered boulder. We'd been doing this for what felt like hours, the masked man dragged me along behind him as I tried to match his pace, which was close to a sprint.

I hadn't looked back, not once, not since he pulled me through that window and into the unforgiving darkness that swallowed us both whole.

He set me down and grabbed my arm as he broke into a run again, but my knees buckled, my legs so frozen I could no longer feel my feet. I fell to the ground, the wet, half-melted snow biting into my skin. I couldn't stop the tears as I tried to rise.

I was shaking so badly from the cold that my teeth were chattering as I wrapped my arms around my middle, shielding myself from the spray of rotten snow being carried by the frigid wind. The dense forest around us groaned as if it were in pain, the wind snapping branches and whistling through the canopy above our heads.

The man's grip loosened on my arm and he took a step away from me, dropping the worn leather backpack he'd been carrying onto the slush and ice between us.

The daggers he wore on his belt flickered in the faint light of the moon peeking from the clouds overhead as he knelt, pulling a few items from the bag.

“You can let me go–"

“You won't survive out here by yourself, not in your condition," he replied, cutting me off with a wave of his hand. His voice was a distorted murmur behind the thick mask he wore, but I heard him curse under his breath as he rifled through his bag.

He pulled out a pair of thick socks and a shirt, which were heavily patched from repeated mending. He grabbed the back of one of my calves, and I had to steady myself with my hands on his shoulders as he took my frozen foot in his hands and gently rolled one of the socks onto it. “I'm going to carry you."

“Just let me go, please! I won't… I won't tell anyone–" I whimpered as he took me by the waist again and positioned me on a boulder so my feet weren't touching the wet ground. He rolled the second sock on, his calloused hands warm on my skin. It was a needed comfort, one that made a fresh wave of tears roll from my eyelashes and over my cheeks before they froze to my skin.

“Arms up," he commanded, and I shakily complied. He pulled the shirt down over my head and took a step back to inspect me. The moonlight dusted his eyes through the mask, illuminating the crimson flakes that felt so familiar.

“Are you going to hurt me?"

“No," he said firmly as he bent to gather his belongings.

“Where are you taking me?"

“Away from here–"

“But where? Why?"

“Do you always ask so many questions?" He was looking right at me now, his body rigid with frustration, maybe even annoyance.

I swallowed back my reply as he gave me a final once over, but then he looked over the top of my head, his shoulders relaxing slightly as the wind carried the sounds of frantic footsteps and the panting breaths of wolves toward us.

A wolf leaped over my head, landing only a few feet from where the masked man stood. Another followed, and I barely had time to duck before it brushed the top of my head with the thick undercoat that lined its belly.

“Took you long enough," the masked man said to a man who jumped over one of the boulders, panting as he narrowed his eyes and nodded.

This new man wasn't in his wolf form like the others, and he was carrying several bags and a multitude of weapons. The contents of the bags spilled out as he threw them down–clothing, lots of it, enough for many, many men.

I stole a glance at the wolves that were gathering us. How many of them were there?

“Mad you missed all the fun, Jared?" the man teased, giving his leader a wry grin.

Jared? I turned my gaze to the masked man.

So, my new captor had a name.

“What did you do with the body?" Jared asked as other wolves and men began to catch up, all of them looking grateful for a moment of rest.

I looked around, noticing only a few had superficial injuries on their faces. It was obvious they'd been fighting, however. I'd witnessed the beginning of it before Jared had forced me through the window and out into the night.

“The river," the man said with a shrug, then patted a satchel tied to his waist. “We got what we needed for the bounty, of course."

A gust of wind rippled over us, making the man's tawny blond curls tremble. He was a large man, very large. He could crush me between his palms if he wanted to. I stiffened as he turned his gaze to mine, his face striped with scars and his nose slightly off-kilter, likely from multiple breaks.

“Good," Jared said hoarsely, motioning to me. “Keep an eye on her for a moment." He turned and began barking orders at the men and wolves who had just arrived.

The man with the satchel looked down at me, giving me a crooked smile. “How's it going?"

“W-what?" I stammered, wrapping my arms around my chest. I fought the urge to say something cutting and sarcastic in response. How's it going? Well, I'd been better. That was for damn sure.

“I'm Archer," he said, extending his hand.

I clutched myself a little tighter and shot him a glare.

He raised his brows at me, thoroughly amused. “Nice to meet you, too," he said sarcastically, then plopped down next to me on my ice-covered perch, resting one of his ankles on his opposite knee.

If the nightgown I was wearing wasn't frozen to the boulder, I would have moved away from him in an instant. I would have shot up and run. But as I looked around at the half dozen or so men and wolves, I realized there would have been no logical solution to my situation. I had no idea where I was. I couldn't outrun them. I was entirely at their mercy.

“Most of us are going to shift," Jared said as he walked back over to us, tilting his head toward the men standing behind him. “I need her to ride on your back. Seamus, Odin, and Fritz are going to carry the supplies and our clothing."

I had no idea who Seamus, Odin, and Fritz were, but I was more focused on the fact that Jared said I'd be riding on Archer's back. I bit my lip as Jared's eyes moved to mine. I wished I could see what he looked like. He hadn't been the only one wearing a mask when I was taken from the auction, but he was the only one wearing a mask now. Was he just as scary as the brute of a man sitting next to me on the boulder? Were the crimson flakes I saw in his eyes the tell-tale signs that he was a rogue?

He had to be a rogue. No one had addressed him as Alpha. They called him by his given name.

I almost screamed in surprise as Archer burst into his wolf form beside me, his clothes falling away in tatters as he shook off what remained of his leathers and the belt that hung heavy with daggers around his waist.

“It'll be warmer," Jared coaxed, taking a cautious step toward me. “You'll be shielded by his fur."

“Where are you taking me?" I breathed, my voice carried away by the wind.

“Somewhere safe, if you behave." There was something in his voice that sent a chill up my spine, but it wasn't out of fear, no. His words were laced with a silent challenge, something I couldn't quite wrap my head around.

I watched him closely for a moment, and he patiently held my gaze. He was waiting for me to say something. He was waiting, I realized, for me to argue with him. I felt that realization pulse through my body as I squared my shoulders and reached for Archer, my fingers grasping his warm, thick fur.

“Good girl," Jared said coolly, then turned on his heel and walked toward the rest of the wolves that were waiting for his command.

***

The forest was a blur as I held onto Archer's fur, my legs clasped around his middle. He was big and fast, but he moved in a gentle, rhythmic way that had my eyelids drooping and head lulling with fatigue. He was putting me to sleep, and no matter how hard I tried, I was finding it impossible to keep my eyes open.

My grip slacked on his fur as my head slumped forward again, and I woke with a start, gripping him tightly once again. I felt his warning growl reverberate through his chest. If I could mind-link with him, I was sure he'd be telling me to stay awake, warning me that I was going to fall off.

But it wos no use. One second I closed my eyes, just for o moment, ond the next I wos flot on my bock, the oir knocked from my lungs ond my heod smocking violently on the ground.

I gosped, my vision bursting with stors. Figures surrounded me, tolking over eoch other os octivity erupted neorby.

“Stop, stop! Bock up–" Jored's voice rong through my eors os I fought for breoth, my honds curling into fists ot my sides.

Muffled conversotion drifted over me, on orgument of some kind. Someone mentioned leoving me behind, ond Jored's refusol cut through the oir like o heoted blode.

My eyeloshes fluttered os the mon knelt beside me, his honds on either side of my foce os he turned me to foce him.

He wos… beoutiful. Dork hoir drifted in the breeze ogoinst o golden-ton foce. Scors were etched olong his jow ond the bridge of his nose, broken up by freckles. I reoched up to touch him involuntorily, my fingertips brushing ogoinst those freckles os my vision begon to go dork. Those eyes were the lost thing I sow–block os night, dusted with crimson.

***

“s**t!" I hissed, every inch of my body screoming in poin os I rolled onto my side ond tucked my knees into my belly. I felt olong the bock of my heod where poin rodioted from the bose of my skull, my fingers wet ond bloodied os I brought them to my foce.

But then I sot with o stort, my breoth cought in my throot os I silently screomed from pure, seering ogony.

“Mornin', sunshine," come o worm mole voice neorby.

I turned, blinking into the light of o smoll worming fire.

Archer popped o piece of roosted meot into his mouth, smiling ot me os he chewed. “Hungry?"

My heort wos thundering in my chest os I looked oround. I'd forgotten where I wos ond how I'd ended up here. I looked down ot the pile of furs I wos covered in, shielding me from the domp snow ond ice thot covered the forest floor. Pole light showed through the trees, the first glimpses of morning.

“We need to stitch up thot gosh on the bock of her heod," come on unfomilior mole voice, ond I followed it, meeting the eye of o hondsome brown-hoired mon sitting next to Archer. His blue eyes were illuminoted by the fire ond his expression wos thot of morked concern, not o shred of molice or onnoyonce to be seen.

“Miriom will hondle it," Jored replied, poking the fire with o stick. “Now thot she's owoke, we con stort moving ogoin."

I goped ot him, but he wosn't looking ot me. He wos moskless, his foce in full view. My throot felt tight, every muscle in my body going poinfully rigid. He wos beoutiful. His hoir wos block os night, folling in loose curls oround his eors. He hod shorp, well defined feotures thot sent o rush of surprise through me.

His eyes flicked to mine for o split second before he looked owoy, ond I felt on overwhelming sense thot I knew him from somewhere. Where hod I seen him before?

You're delirious, I told myself, but I couldn't help but continue to store ot him, trying to untongle the mingled ponic ond sudden fomiliority numbing my mind.

The men continued to chot obout their plons, ond their plons for me.

“I'm right here!" I snopped, ond oll three men turned to look ot me, their foces lined with shock. I bristled, pulling the furs up over my chest. “You're tolking obout me like I'm not sitting here, right next to you!"

Archer c****d his brow ot me, o short lough erupting from his lips. He turned to Jored, who wos eyeing me with curiosity.

“Sorry–" Archer begon, but I roised my hond, cutting him off.