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It's Just a Little War

last update Last Updated: 2025-10-06 21:41:49

Book 16

Lexa

The packhouse in Silverhide is cast in dim, amber light that radiates from rustic candlelit chandeliers arranged in a row high above my head. Mom stands near the dormant fireplace talking in low tones to Aunt Mercy and Uncle Jacob. Even standing beside her, I can barely hear their murmured conversation over the crowd gathered along the long wooden tables that take up most of the space in the communal dining hall. Familiar faces huddle over the remains of a rather average dinner where more wine and mead was served than anything else. There’s an undercurrent of tension in the room that’s so palpable I can taste it–bitter, sour, something that sticks to the roof of my mouth and can’t be washed away by the wine. So do the others as they lower their heads, whispering, glancing at my mother, their Luna, for direction.

I scan the crowd and meet Chessie’s gaze. Her dark blonde hair falls around her heart-shaped face–curly and bright against her dark green eyes. She’s seated betw
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  • The Alpha King's Breeder   The Culling

    LexaBoots scrape over stone. Water drips down moss covered bricks with a smooth plop, plop, plop next to my head, where my cheek is pressed against what I can only assume is the floor. It stinks here. Like sweat, blood, and filth I refuse to describe. I haven’t moved in hours, but I’ve been awake. Yes, I’m aware. Yes, I can feel every ache in my body. Yes, I’m alive, but why? The memories of the beach are hazy. I’m not sure how much time has passed or where I am. I could actually be dead, I suppose, and currently in purgatory awaiting the Goddess’s final judgment. People have been moving in and out of wherever I am for the last several hours. I know that much. Facing the wall with my body curled in the fetal position, I haven’t so much as glanced behind me–at the darkness, at the shadows that groan and grumble, at the sound of chains grating across the wet floor. The Boots, I call them, have been coming in and out, collecting souls in silence. A key slides into a lock. A murmured

  • The Alpha King's Breeder   Swallowed Hole

    LexaAustin brushes my shoulder as he moves in front of me, the two of us towering over the beach on our perch high above the waves. Without the fires, the beach is practically invisible, but it’s the silence that’s unnerving. I look out over the water with the slightest turn of my head. It’s a clear, beautiful night… at least, it was. A strange storm funnels toward the shoreline, smoke-like tendrils of dark mist creeping over the sea in whirls and swirls that carry the unmistakable taste of… copper. The mist floods the beach. Strange orange-hued lightning crackles in the silent storm beyond without the warning of thunder.Magic. It has to be. I try to step forward, but he stops me with a hand curled around my forearm, his grip tightening in warning. Neither of us breathe. Neither of us move. I can feel the tingle of magic between us as we send our silent commands for an explanation to the screams through the mind-link. I tug out of his grasp and take a single step toward the edge o

  • The Alpha King's Breeder   Reject Me Then

    LexaTeshka isn’t known for its pristine beaches. The water here is gray and turbulent, the waves crashing against the shore to the songs of seagulls and the roar of the water lapping up the cliff faces. I watch the sunset over the horizon–watch it slip beneath the gray water, turning the sky a vibrant crimson that fades into streaks of violet, and as I look into the stars that slowly come into full view, I send another colorful curse down the empty mind-link to my idiot cousin Blake, who is the reason I’m stuck on the Goddess forsaken beach. It took four days to travel here in our wolf forms. We stopped to camp every night, not a single fire lit, eating no more than a few oatcakes and washing them down with whatever water we could get our hands on. My girls made haste because that was my command. I’m not here to fuck around–not with so much at stake. But the shoreline in Teshka, which spans nearly twenty miles before becoming so steep it’s completely impassable, is just impossible

  • The Alpha King's Breeder   It's Just a Little War

    Book 16LexaThe packhouse in Silverhide is cast in dim, amber light that radiates from rustic candlelit chandeliers arranged in a row high above my head. Mom stands near the dormant fireplace talking in low tones to Aunt Mercy and Uncle Jacob. Even standing beside her, I can barely hear their murmured conversation over the crowd gathered along the long wooden tables that take up most of the space in the communal dining hall. Familiar faces huddle over the remains of a rather average dinner where more wine and mead was served than anything else. There’s an undercurrent of tension in the room that’s so palpable I can taste it–bitter, sour, something that sticks to the roof of my mouth and can’t be washed away by the wine. So do the others as they lower their heads, whispering, glancing at my mother, their Luna, for direction. I scan the crowd and meet Chessie’s gaze. Her dark blonde hair falls around her heart-shaped face–curly and bright against her dark green eyes. She’s seated betw

  • The Alpha King's Breeder   Epilogue: In the Deadlands

    LexaSummer sunlight sweeps across the trembling fields of wheat–a wash of pure gold against the emerald face of the mountains just beyond. I lift my face to the sun and breathe in, letting the scent of what will be another prosperous harvest fill my lungs. It smells like… bread. Bread and apples. Bread and roasting meat. Bread and the ever burning fire at the center of the village, where lively chatter rises above the crackling embers, above the stretch of a laundry line being raised, above the sound of shutters opening and mothers calling out for their children to come brush their teeth before running off to play. Goddess, it’s good to be home. “Lexa! LEXA!” Chessie’s voice rips down the road, followed by her pounding booted footsteps as she races in my direction. I turn, catching her in the glare of the early morning sun, her wild blonde hair tousled from sleep–unbrushed–and her dress–the first dress I’ve seen her wear in over six months–wrinkled, like she picked it off the line

  • The Alpha King's Breeder   A Week of Not Knowing

    MariannaA Week Later…Some mornings, I can barely drag myself out of bed, but I do. I put on the brave face I have Dean to thank for–a face that hides the internal anguish and dread ripping me to pieces. But I’m being strong for Skye. I have to. I promised Blake I would be. Some nights when I can’t sleep, I go to the empty, quiet ballroom and fill the space with the sound of my violin, praying he can hear the music through our bond. It’s all I have to hang on to–the only thing keeping me from falling into myself, from giving up. Now, morning sunlight drifts through the curtains in Blake’s suite as I gather what belongings I’ll need for the day and stuff them in my purse, along with a few snacks and drinks for me and my daughter. She’s in the main living room when I walk out, sliding my sunglasses into my hair while double checking I brought everything we’d need for a day out of… here. Just away. The palace walls have felt like a grim reminder of who won’t be joining us today and wh

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