*Isla* Maddox runs to me looking just as worn out as me and Poppy are. We’ve dragged Antony over a mile along the beach back to the city, praying that someone would see us and help. Hot sun beats down on us as I watch my mate close in, his eyes narrowed and mouth parted in surprise. “Is he–” “He’s dead,” I say quickly, the words tasting like pure acid on my tongue. Maddox pauses, his eyes meeting mine. ‘Are you going to save him?’ he asks through our bond so only I can hear his question. It’s a hard one, if I’m being completely honest. Do I give this man another chance? This man, my own cousin, who has done nothing but lie to us? ‘I’m going to try to,’ I tell him, not sure if I can. Not sure if anything can. How long do we have? Maddox nods and steps forward, his large frame partially blocking the unforgiving sun. “The falls,” I choke out to everyone, gathering my reeling thoughts as I stumble down the street. “We have to get him to the falls, right now.” It’s not far from
*Isla*The open air sitting room overlooking the beach shimmers like gold in the soft afternoon sunlight. I stare down at the newborn baby girl in my arms, my thumbs gently brushing back her dark hair. Goddess, she looks like Poppy. My heart squeezes in my chest as I peer over at my friend who is asleep on the couch across from mine, a sleeping baby Asher in her arms. Elijah and Emery are… somewhere. Emery is making the most of the last day here in Maatua, especially now that she can see it at its best. Elijah came into the castle this morning during breakfast, totally drenched and covered in sand. We’d only caught a glimpse of Emery as she sped toward her quarters, just as wet as Elijah. She’d swam out a little too far into the ocean, and he’d gone in to save her life, at least he thought. He hadn’t realized Emery was a very strong swimmer; she ended up having to rescue him instead. But that had been this morning. Now we are just… waiting around. Our boat will be here tomorrow, mi
*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.
MistyI flip a page in my journal, squinting at the terrible handwriting I’d scribbled down last night when I’d woken from my latest dream. I can’t comprehend what I’d been trying to say. Dark? Hurt? Silver? Those words look somewhat clear. I can’t even remember writing them down. I close the journal with a sigh and slip it back in my purse, hanging the bag over the back of my chair in the common room of my dormitory. It’s a massive building with a pitched roof, several towers, and spooky, darkened alcoves, but it’s home, and right now, I’m sure I’d be able to hear Georgia singing her heart out in the shower if the nagging, incessant voice in my head would shut up for a single, blissful second. I’ve come to the conclusion after two years of hearing what I can only describe as white noise and the occasional static screech, like I have a radio fixed inside my skull, that the voice isn’t my internal dialogue. No, that’s a separate entity in itself, and I’m constantly at odds with the u
MistyTwo white wolves in a clearing.Their bodies made of mist and aether, standing side by side.Mates. A marvel of second chances and extraordinary fate.Two white wolves turn toward the sunrise knowing what they must leave behind; what he sacrificed for those he loved and her refusal to let him go into death alone.Two white wolves stand over their earthly bodies. He, battered and still.She, going into death with eyes open, cupping her mate's face between her graceful hands, her eyes locked on his at the moment of her dying breath.Their last words had been simple. I love you.They always had.They’d promised this instance in stolen moments, in private corners, when there was nothing but the stars to light their way.I will not stay here without you.I will not leave you behind.And so, it was.Two
AvivaThe first flakes of snow fall from the sky as I watch Ryan trying to herd everyone in position. Bundled against the cold in a wool coat Freya and I worked tirelessly on for the last three weeks, I step to the side, finding myself in the center of the crowd standing in the middle of the village of Silverhide. I watch my mate and his Beta, James, nudge families together and run back and forth toward a tripod where Ryan’s camera rests, facing us, to gauge whether all one-hundred and fifty people are in view of the lens.Ryan stands behind the camera with his hands up, his hair dusted with snow. “Okay. Nobody move!”A few excited giggles whisper through the front of the crowd where the numerous children are arranged. I glance around, watching as James joins Dahlia’s side, their baby on her hip. The baby girl finally has a name. Cosette, named after a friend of Dahlia, but they call her Cossie for short. Other babies
Two months later…RyanThe Harvest Festival has been held at the festival grounds between Endova, Teshka, and Navvan for centuries. When we arrived two days ago, leaving only a few people behind in Silverhide to make sure the animals are tended to in our absence, the wide, open space had been nothing but rolling plains.Now, it’s a city of canvas tents and twinkling lights, the air spiced with smoke and the smells of meals being cooked at each fire. Songs mingle as I walk through the festival with Aviva on my arm. I’m wearing a normal outfit. Well, not normal, actually. Mom forced me into a suit and tie with the Crescent Falls royal banner and all of my metals from my years as a warrior draped over my shoulders. Aviva is wearing that white, fur-lined dress again and a pair of new sheep-skin boots Freya and Mercy made for her, but instead of freshwater clam shells and pearls decorating her hair, her curls are w
RyanAn hour earlier…I can’t scrub the image of Aviva dead in my arms out of my head. It’s been several days since the battle, since the moment I put her in my uncle's arms and turned back to the ravaged scene, not knowing whether or not she survived the journey all the way to Maatua.Three days. It was three entire days before Sydney arrived in Silverhide with news about my mate. I’d just arrived back at my territory, exhausted and in tatters, when he clapped a hand on my shoulder and used his powers to spirit us to Moonrise, then to Veiled Valley, then to Maatua. He’s not as strong as Ryatt. Jumping took a toll on us both, and when we finally arrived at my grandparents’ beach house, I collapsed before I even made it up their driveway.Everything since the battle is a blur. Navvan is just… gone. The few survivors were mostly women and children who’d left the villag
AvivaI wake with a start to bright, warm sunshine and the smell of salty air. I grope white sheets, blinking several times to clear my vision as an unfamiliar bedroom fades to life around me. Warm white walls. Pale wood finishes and sleek furniture in soft browns and creams. White curtains drift in a salty breeze coming through several open windows, and a glass door opens to a deck with a view of… a view of the ocean.I’ve never seen the ocean before. From where I lie, I can hear the waves crashing on a white sand beach. Music I don’t recognize drifts toward me, carrying two voices with it, one male, and one female.“Your parents worry about you endlessly, Misty.”“They have nothing to worry about. It’s not like I’m ten anymore, Grandpa. I can make my own way in the world now. Plus, where was their worry when they shipped me here four years ago, huh?”“You
RyanI’ve been dreaming about tying Aviva to my bed, but I’m going to make it a reality for entirely different reasons. Now, I’ll be tying her to keep her there, forever. No more hunting. No more fighting. No more killing rogues barefoot in the woods.No more putting herself in situations like this. I will do her dirty work. I will gladly do it. I roll with Hardan in his… hellhound form? Whatever the fuck he is now. I wish, Goddess, I wish I could have faced him man to man instead of beast to beast. I would have loved to see the look on his face when I ripped out his heart for even thinking for a second he had some kind of claim to my mate, even before I found her. We roll down a decline. I sink my talons into his belly, ripping hard, but I already know hellhounds aren’t that easy to kill. We crash into an oak tree. Leaves shower over us as he tries to claw free of my grasp. He’s calling out, bellowing strange, high-pitched howls. The forest floor rumbles as I sink my claws into hi
AvivaI’m having the time of my life.I zigzag through the woods in my wolf form after three rogues who’ve decided they want nothing to do with me. In fact, the rogues have stopped hunting me over the past several hours and instead are trying to get as far away from me as possible. Their prey has become their biggest predator.I did my best to lead the horde away from Endova. That was my goal–the reason I made the snap decision to leave my mate behind and race into the jaws of death itself. Now, I have the horde moving away from the tribal packlands all together, herding them back into the open plains like a shepherd, and they’re my sheep–if a shepherd killed their sheep, that is.I’ve lost count of how many there are. My red fur is completely black with their blood. I catch my reflection in another small, burbling creek as I leap, seeing only my eyes shining like polished amber against a
Ryan“She’s not here, Ryan,” Mercy hisses as I run through the village. She’s hot on my heels, grabbing my fur to try to pull me to a stop but I’m not in my right mind.It’s been five hours since I last saw Aviva. Andrew and I have been scouring the forest and plains for any sign of her, but I lost her scent, and my desperate attempts to mind-link with her have come up empty and silent.I shift into my human form the second I cross into the pack house and immediately crash into one of the tables, tripping over the bench and landing on my side with a crunch. I’ve been in my wolf form since last night. Exhaustion sings through my bones as my vision spins. I hear Andrew similarly falling to the ground with a choked groan before hurried footsteps reach the pack house. Someone throws a blanket over me with a scoff, followed by Mercy’s sharp, soprano voice ripping through the air as she starts s