Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 968

Chapter 19 : A Gentleman’s Agreement

*Lucas*

As expected, Sasha was early. She stood up from the bench on the platform, having waited for me, and I waved a greeting.

She wore another sweater and a pair of jeans, but I still remembered what was underneath that sweater. I wondered if she was wearing another sports bra or if she'd chosen something more… frilly. Maybe lacy, partially see-through....

I paused and squeezed my eyes shut. We had a mission, and that mission did not include mentally undressing the delectable Sasha Wentley.

“How's Ian?" Sasha asked when I approached.

“Fine–insubordinate, as usual," I said with a smirk. Her hair was up today in a bouncy blond ponytail, exposing the long lines of a creamy neck. Moon Goddess help me.

Sasha smiled and it went straight to my groin. “He's funny."

“See if you still think that after he deliberately thrashes you around some potholes," I grumbled.

Sasha laughed, and that was even more tantalizing than her smile.

“All packed?" I asked, having to clear my throat a few times to regain the power of speech.

Sasha looked at me curiously, but nodded, indicating the large duffel sitting on the bench next to her. “All packed."

“Great." I lifted her duffel, swinging it up over my shoulder with my own.

“Lucas!" Sasha said. “You don't have to—“

“Let's go." I cut her off.

Sasha gave an exasperated sigh and fell into step next to me. I held out our tickets to the porter and he took our bags, escorting us to our compartment.

“Ever been west before?" I asked Sasha as the porter stowed our bags over our heads.

“No," Sasha said, sitting down across from me. “Never."

“Beautiful countryside," I continued, settling myself so this time our legs were not touching–close, but not touching. I was still trying to figure out what impulse had me torturing myself rubbing legs with her all the way to the capital from the library site yesterday. It had been very unprofessional.

Why did I keep flirting with temptation?

Sasha noted the distance between our legs and I heard her sigh, turning her face to the window.

I didn't blame her for ignoring me. I'd have given me the cold shoulder, too, for constantly sending out so many mixed signals.

We were still sitting in silence when the train started moving, Sasha staring out the window.

I tried to think of something to talk about but gave up after the better part of an hour and took out a book instead. It was a history of the architecture of ancient Egoren temples. I figured I could try to beef up my knowledge a bit before meeting with Eliza. Maybe there would be a mention of other White Queen temples in the Dark Realm.

“Good book?" Sasha asked after a while.

I glanced up and saw she was now looking at me. “A bit dry, but yes," I answered.

“Can I read it when you're finished?" Sasha's voice was hopeful.

I smiled at her. “Of course."

If the heat in her eyes before she cast them down was anything to go by, my smile affected Sasha just as strongly as hers affected me.

“Do you ever go back to the Winter Forest?" I blurted, trying to break the tension.

Sasha looked back up. “Yes, sometimes. You?"

“I try to make it back for every Winter Solstice." I imagined the trees and clean, crisp air of our homeland.

Sasha looked wistful, imaging the same, I imagined. “I don't get back that often, but I do try to get back as often as possible."

“You miss home?" I asked.

“I like the bustle and innovation of the capital of the Dark Realm, but yes, sometimes I miss home," Sasha confessed.

“It was a great place to grow up," I said.

Sasha made a face, her eyes suddenly… angry and focused on me. “For some people."

She turned back to the window, but I put my hand on her knee. I wanted whatever this was out to rest between us once and for all. “Sasha, talk to me. What did I do that was so terrible?"

Sasha looked down at my hand, then at me. She sighed. “You really don't remember, do you?"

“I don't," I said. “Remind me."

“You were a bully, Lucas, you and your friends. And I was an easy target. Enough said?" Sasha replied.

I shook my head. “No, not enough said. Though whatever I did that I thought was teasing and you thought was torture, I am very sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

“It's over now. We're grown-ups. Do we really have to rehash it?" Sasha complained.

“I think we do. Well, me and a sharp slap on the cheek think it might be a good idea," I reminded her with a slight smile.

Sasha groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Don't remind me."

“Kind of hard to forget," I said.

“My bracelet," she said stiffly.

I felt my brows furrow as I jogged my mind to recall a bracelet.

“I… I stepped on it," I said, feeling my stomach drop at the memory of her crying and begging for me to give it back to her. “Oh… Sasha I...."

I remembered thinking that the bracelet made of old leather and vines had to be a worthless piece of junk. But I could remember the way it crunched under my foot. It felt like glass breaking.

“I am so sorry," I said and she wiped away a tear.

I began to imagine the true value of the bracelet that must have been a precious heirloom.

“I wish I could go back and be a better kid," I mumbled.

“Me too," she agreed.

“Did you get in trouble for that?" I asked and watched her jaw tighten.

I didn't remember much about her mother, but she never seemed like a harsh parent. I swallowed as the air around us seemed to thin out, so I changed the subject.

“So… I've always wanted to ask… how do your dream dancer powers work?"

Sasha picked up on me trying to alleviate the tension between us, but still did not remove her hand from mine. “I see visions," Sasha said, “not that you didn't know that already. And I can manipulate water and air."

“Really?" I said.

Sasha wiggled the fingers of her free hand in the air, and a breeze blew over my book, turning the pages.

I stared, the oddest feeling coming over me. “Wow. I had no idea you were that powerful. I mean, I know your mother's kind of a seer… but she doesn't seem to be as strong as you. You're more like my Aunt Hannah."

“Mom's not as powerful as I am," Sasha confirmed. She looked uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“What? Is something wrong?" I asked, placing my other hand over hers so her smaller hand was sandwiched between my two larger ones.

“I just don't… really like… using or talking about my powers, because of how I got them," Sasha said haltingly.

Ah. Yes, the rumors. Sasha's father was a Lycannian man named Slate. Her mother had the misfortune of meeting him when she was sixteen, and he assaulted her.

It was the Lycennian line that was known to carry the same powers Sasha had, dating back to Carl, who would have been Sasha's grandfather.

Lycennian men were also known for their heartless brutality, and I could see why Sasha would want nothing to do with that connection.

“I understand," I responded softly. I tilted her chin up, seeing tears shimmer in her eyes. “Hey, none of it is your fault. And you use your powers or don't use them, when and how you want, as far as I'm concerned. As soon as we're done with that damned orb, you can decide never to use them again, if you want. I wouldn't blame you at all."

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