*Isla* Poppy and I sit on the terrace, a pitcher of sweet hibiscus tea sitting between us on a small patio table as we balance the twins on our knees and let the sun warm our skin. Asher is resting on my thighs blissfully dreaming away. “I forgot how much Isaac used to sleep when he was a newborn,” Poppy smiles, looking down at Daphne. “Or how small he used to be. I was shocked when I saw the twins for the first time. I expected them to be much, much bigger based on how big my bell had been.” “This doesn’t last for long,” I laugh, sighing deeply. “Isaac learned to run before he could walk. Some days I miss when he was easy and small.” “I’m looking forward to being able to take them down to the beach so they can run on the sand and help me look for seashells,” she replies, laughing softly. “Antony can teach them how to swim, and I can sit on a towel and work on my tan.” “How’re you and Antony now?” I ask. “We’re working through it,” she admits, giving me a sad smile. “Taking it
Epilogue to Book 4... Two Years Later *Maddox* “Where is she?” I ask, looking over the strewn papers on my desk. I look down at the dark wells of ink splatter over everything and frown, shifting my gaze to the trail of ink that moves in a circle around my desk, then around the couch in the center of the room. Inky fingerprints cover the leather then disappear again before the ink spots disappear beyond the door and into the long corridor. Elijah shrugs, his mouth curved at the edges as he looks around the room. “Not here anymore, obviously. I’m sure if you follow the trail she left behind you’ll know exactly where she is.” I glance over at him as I gather the ink stained papers and stack them neatly before sighing and tossing them in the trash can beside my desk. “How’d she get in here, anyway?” “She just learned how to turn doorknobs,” I answer, shaking my head. I can’t help but smile despite the fact my entire office is covered in ink, and my best fountain pen is dismantled
Welcome to Season 5 of The Alpha King's Breeder. I hope you will enjoy Isaac's story as much as you have loved Isla and Maddox's story!*Isaac*“It’s not bad.” Mom smiles tightly as her hands smooth over the front of my dress suit, her slender fingers pale against the navy blue fabric. I twitch, reaching up to tug on my collar while I look at my reflection over the top of her head. For a moment, I think it’s my father staring back at me, but no. My father, Alpha King Maddox, and I have practically the same face. Strong jaw, high cheekbones, and the same sharp nose. But I’d been blond up until a few years ago, the glossy golden hair that favored my mom fading into a rich brown. I look even more like him now than I ever have before.Mom’s soft blue eyes, the same color and shape as mine, turn up to meet my gaze. “Where’s Dad?” I ask, trying to shrug the stiff fabric from my shoulders as Mom breaks from my gaze and walks in a circle around me to inspect the suit she’d had specially mad
Three Years Later…*Maddy*The floorboards have never been cleaner, and my hands have never been more raw. Soapy water soaks through my leggings as I kneel, wringing out my sponge in a bucket of water. The chalet needs work, at least my stepmother says so every chance she gets. The cracks in the ancient plaster and the stone chimneys blackened with soot were once clean and whole, and the chalet itself used to be regal and housed her family back when they had wealth and standing. Now, it’s a testament to her less-than-ideal situation. A situation, she says, is only exasperated by my being in the picture. I’m another mouth to feed. Another body to clothe. But I don’t eat anything but scraps left over from the main table and my clothes are nothing but tarnished rags after years and years of mending. Elodie eats like a queen, wears the hottest fashions, and is treated like a person, whereas I’m treated worse than dirt. Elodie is my stepsister, and she’s the apple of my stepmother Lou
*Maddy*I wriggle against the restraints. My wrists are raw and aching from the ropes. I don’t know what time it is or where I’m being taken, but I was carried from the chalet to a vehicle, then onto a train, and now I lay with my face pressed against a hardwood floor thick with the scent of fresh wax. Two achingly slow days have passed, and I have no idea where I am or why. Sold. That was what Lousia said. She’d sold me. It’s no wonder she had money to buy meat and wine and four new dresses for Elodie. I roll onto my side and curl into a ball. At least it’s warm wherever I am. Chill doesn’t bite my toes or waft through cracked windows. No, this place is nice. Well-furnished with thick velvet curtains and plush couches. Still, I’m on the floor, hog-tied and filthy after two days of rough travel. I turn to look out a window on the far side of the room. Soft daylight spills across the floor, illuminating obscure sculptures and art collecting dust. Midday, maybe? Afternoon? My stom
*Isaac*My office feels like it’s caving in on me as I tap my fingers on my desk and stare down at the profiles scattered across the wooden surface. The same desk I used to sit beneath as a child while my dad conducted pack business is now littered with pictures and essays written by women I don’t know.And I don’t really care to know them either.Dad is going to be livid when he finds out what I’m doing. Mom, too. Especially Mom, now that I think about it. They went through hell and back to be together and raised me and Ella to never have to worry about being in the position I’m willingly putting myself in. It’s not like I’m looking for a breeder. I’m looking for a wife. “For the love of the Goddess,” I breathe, pinching the bridge of my nose as my head begins to throb. “You still have time to back out,” Cassian grins from the red leather sofa across from my desk. His ankles are crossed over one of the arm rests as he lounges aimlessly, still in jeans and an old college T-shirt.
*Maddy*I need to run now. I can feel Reginald's fury starting to suffocate the room. He’s still arguing with one of the well-dressed men who is now shouting in his face. I understand nothing.A few of the women dressed in fine gowns start to walk out of the ballroom, their faces drawn in disappointment. I glance around quickly, trying to keep my battered face shielded from the Prince–no, the Alpha King. He’s the Alpha King now. I hadn’t realized until I saw him, but the crest he wears on his lapel confirms it.He hasn’t recognized me. I didn’t expect him to. It’s been three years, after all. And I look nothing like the rosy cheeked teenager I’d been when he’d asked me to dance at his birthday ball. He’s as handsome as ever with the same dark hair as his father and his mother’s bright blue eyes. I remember them well from the ball. The scent of bergamot and leather waft off of him, making my lower abdomen tighten, but I’m not here to throw myself at the king. It seems clear we’re not
*Isaac*Lorena sits in a wing-backed armchair in the formal sitting room off the front garden. Her golden hair falls over her shoulders in soft curls. Her eyes haven’t left mine for the past hour, and to be honest, I find myself growing more and more uncomfortable in her presence. This isn’t good. She’s my top contender at this point, a week after out initial meeting. Her father, an Alpha, is a great man. Kind, loyal, intelligent. An ally I am lucky to have. I know that his loyalty to the crown isn’t contingent on whether or not I choose Lorena as my wife and Luna based on a prior conversation I had with the man. Thank the Goddess. It’s not that I’m not attracted to her. It’s not that I can’t see her potential. It’s her voice–and the words that leave her lips when her guard is down. I can sense a bit of a mean streak, and the way her eyes narrow on the female maids that work at my home make me wonder if she’d rule this house like a dictator, her intentions cruel and that cruelt
Brie“Tonight?”“Yes, tonight.”“How?” I laugh, taking a step away from him. “We-we can’t.”“We can,” he says breathlessly, shaking his head. “The temple stays open all night. We’d just need to find a priestess.”“We’d need a witness,” I whisper as the cogs in my mind start turning. “I’d need a dress–”“I’d marry you like this,” he says, taking my hands. “But please, for the love of the Goddess, marry me before I go.”I blink up at Logan, my heart swelling and squeezing simultaneously. There’s still a whisper in my mind that warns me that he could change his mind, that he can’t really want me, but I… banish it, giving myself to him fully. “Are you sure?” I ask, scanning his eyes. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want you to be my wife, Brie.”“I’m already your mate.”“It’s not enough.” He brushes my hair out of my face and kisses me, but a rush of air alerts us to a visitor making their way up the stairs to the tower. I pull away as a soft knock sounds on the door. Neither
BrieLogan steps into my dad’s office. All eyes turn to him as he scans the men–Sydney, Grandpa Ryatt, my father, a few others that serve both my father and grandfather as generals, captains, and commanders. Logan’s eyes are like polished, imperfect emeralds as he eyes my grandpa wearily, like he’s not entirely sure he understands what Ryatt just said to everyone in the room. “Brie, you don’t need to be here for this,” Aviva whispers behind me, knitting her fingers in mine. But Logan growls, “She stays.”A silent, heavy, creeping hint of tension scatters around the room. The entire castle would explode if someone lit a match right now, I’m sure. My spine tingles as Logan turns to Ryatt and says, calmly despite the bite in his voice, “There’s nothing in Emberfyll.”“Quite the contrary,” my grandfather replies immediately, rounding my father’s desk, his shadow powers simmering and coiling around his fingers, “Debris has been washing up on the southern shore of Tarsian for decades now.
LoganBrie looks exhausted, but otherwise… happy, thank the Goddess, as she sits between her mother and Misty, listening to their conversation and picking at a sandwich. I lean my elbows on the table across the room where I’m sitting in silence, alone, still waiting for my mind to catch up with my body after Maeve jumped with us from the middle of the ocean to Veiled Valley. A shadow moves into view, crossing through the doorway before a shadow breaches the informal living area. Ryan looks around before turning the corner, beelining for me, waving away several rushed questions coming from the group of women on the couches nearby. He braces his hands on the table beside me, leaning down to whisper into my ear, “I need to speak to you in private before Ryatt returns. Can you come with me?”I glance at Brie, who’s watching us with her brows furrowed in worry. I suck my teeth before nodding, and Ryan moves back a step so I can stand. Brie and I have been using the mind-link as much as
BrieI pull the stool out from under my vanity, sinking down and facing Blake. I’m older than him by a few months. We’ve always been close, even when we were younger, and he tended to want to play rowdy boy games with Aris. He always sat quietly and played tea-party with me, though, without fail. He’s also the pariah of the family and knows it. His powers rival Ryatt’s, which is a terrifying thought. In fact, I often question who’s more powerful–him or Maeve? But that’s not a fair question at the moment, given that Maeve’s powers aren’t even fully developed yet. Blake, however… he exudes energy that makes my skin tingle as he sits in my desk chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “You found us, didn’t you?” He nods, a flash of guilt darkening his irises. “I admit I didn’t even look until Maeve cornered me. She felt you, she said. Sensed your arrival back in our waters.”I wonder how much Logan told the family. Probably everything, I’m sure. That man can talk, and I love that abou
BrieAt first I think I’m dreaming that I’m in my room in Veiled Valley. Familiar smells and textures unravel my senses, shielding me in a sense of calm serenity I haven’t felt in a very long time. Sunlight trickles through the curtains as they lift in a soft, warm summer breeze. Birdsong flutters through the air, breaking through murmured conversation nearby, but it sounds like a gorgeous day outside. The kind of summer day I’d spend in the garden before shifting and running into the mountains to that overlook, where a waterfall funnels back toward the city of deep, emerald green and crystal. The vision fades for the space of a breath, my eyes growing heavy once again. I wonder what I’ll dream of next? I hope it’s a good dream. But my stomach rolls and pitches, and I choke on a cough. Bright pain tingles through my body, settling at the base of my neck where a headache of epic proportions explodes, and suddenly wherever I am is too bright and far too loud. I groan, twisting into t
LoganI hit solid ground with a crunch that reverberates through my body, shocking me back to life. Dark stone and stained glass come into view, and it’s all familiar. We’re in Veiled Valley, in the castle.I blink, sucking in a breath, then curl to a seated position before swaying to my feet, my vision blurred, but I can just make out the outline of Maeve clutching Brie to her chest as Brie slumps over her arms. I run, slipping over the stone floor, and pull Brie out of Maeve’s grasp just as she begins to fall to the ground. “What is wrong with you?!” I shout at Maeve, kneeling and cradling Brie as my knees hit the ground. “What were you thinking?!”I smooth Brie’s hair out of her face. Her eyes are closed, and she’s pale, barely breathing. “Hey, Brie? Brie, come on–” I run my hand over her face, smoothing pale silver tears from her eyes, but she remains frozen. I look up at Maeve, who’s panting, a horrified look on her face. She shakes her head over, and over, mouthing something
LoganBrie folds her arms under her chest against the sudden, humid chill in the air. Thunder booms around us as the Artemis creeps toward the towering waves that should be crashing down on the deck but seem to hang in midair, casting long shadows over the ship. I rest my hands on the railing, caging Brie in against the wooden slats while we look up at the waves, neither of us breathing. In fact, everyone aboard the Artemis is standing on the deck, watching the unnerving sight in absolute bone-chilling silence. The waves simply vanish ahead of us, rolling back into the depths, allowing the fleet of over a dozen boats to pass. It’s unreal. It doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. “Are you all right?” I ask my mate, resting my hand on her upper arm. She nods but is beyond words at this point. I don’t blame her. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for the last half hour as the Artemis leads the charge. Several men scale the ratlines to hang from the masts, keeping an eye on the shi
Brie“There’s four main ports on the continent,” Logan says, bending over the crude, illustrated map of Crescent Falls and Eastonia for Alex. “Here, in Maatua. Just south of that is Avalone, in Veiled Valley. I believe that’s where we’ll be closest. However, if we come out of the veil far south, there’s a port here, in Tarsian, which is part of Eastonia. And if we’re somehow north.” He breaths, tapping the map with his knuckles. “We’ll be here, in Crescent Falls.”“And Emberfyll is… where?” Alex asks.“Somewhere… over here, I believe.” He drags a finger south from Tarsian and sharply east. I follow it, my chest tightening as I look up at him. We’re on the Artemis right now, tucked away in Alex and Monica’s private quarters. Behind us, the Asteria, the Atropos, and two other grand ships bob in the water. Beyond them, an entire fleet of ships of varying sizes follows our progress away from Tempest Valley and into the open, toward the veil. We’ve been on the water for two weeks. Before
MaeveMom stands with her arms crossed on the balcony overlooking the ballroom in our castle. In the city below, the once beautiful, tropical landscape is cast in shadow. The crystal bridges lined with greenery are now painted in banners of black. A field of flowers stretches beyond the gates of the castle, left by mourners. Left for my sister. Veiled Valley has never been this quiet and dark. The sun has barely shown itself since Brie left us. The castle itself has barely stirred in that time. It’s magic just… can’t handle Brie’s loss. It mourns with the rest of us, sometimes sending a low, choked groan through the corridors that make the lights flicker, like the magic is crying. “I’m not ready,” Mom says quietly as she watches the women below mingle in small circles, most, if not all of them, dressed in dark fabric–mourning gowns. “I’ll tell them we’re waiting. It's not a problem,” I reply, gliding to her side, reaching to lay my hand over hers as she grips the balcony, but she t