Accueil / Werewolf / The Alpha King's Breeder / Chapitre 431 - Chapitre 440

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951

Flashback

Sarah After the Ball Alpha Sydney of Shadowcrest pauses during the long trek down the stairs leading out of the temple of the Moon Goddess. He extends a hand to me, and I take it, finding his hands warm but slightly clammy. I meet his eyes. Goddess, he has radiant eyes. The kind of blue even the best artists can’t capture in a painting. Dark blue, like the deepest ocean, and so expressive I can see every thought behind them. He’s nervous. I am too, which is silly. We’ve been dancing for an hour, singing along to a lesser known local band we both love. He helped me finish the cocktail I didn’t end up liking, and somehow we ended up doing… this. Escaping the party together without telling a soul. He wanted to see my flowers, and I wanted to show him more than anything. This man is not only an Alpha but the heir to the throne of Alpha King. He’

Unlocking the Past

Sarah Everything hurts. My head feels like someone took a hammer to it. I open my eyes to slits and quickly close them again. Pain rushes through me in waves like it has its own tide, and my breath is driving the current. I know where I am. Sydney’s scent is everywhere. I tried to leave him. I really did try. I thought it was what I was supposed to do to protect him and our son, but the Goddess laughed in my face, didn’t She? I slowly turn my head to the only source of light I can find and carefully open my eyes again. Sydney’s sitting at a desk only a few feet away, his back to me. The soft click, click, click, of his keyboard fills my ears as his laptop screen comes into view. It’s a blueprint of some kind. An equation pops up on the screen that takes him a single second to figure out, and then the blueprint shifts, new numbers and letters appearing that make

Queen of Wishful Thinking

SarahTime is an illusion. I’ve never slept so much in my entire life. My body feels weak and heavy as I linger on the edge of sleep, refusing to let myself succumb to the inky, black, depthless slumber I’ve been experiencing for days even though my body is begging for it. I know it’s the tea. It has to be. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to keep down since spiraling back to reality, and Cosette has a habit of hiding her nasty herbal concoctions behind copious amounts of honey and cream. A burst of pain launches me back into alertness. I sneeze loudly, ripping my eyes open to find myself face to face with Blake, who’s gripping my nose with an iron fist. He beams at me, his eyes going all squinty with delight. “Did you just stick your finger all the way up my nose?” I ask, arching my brow at him. He sucks in his breath and does his best impression of laughing, which comes out as a broken coo, then smacks me smartly on the cheek. I’m under the impression Cosette or Dalia drops

Unburying Sasha

Kenna I knew something was up with Sydney several months ago when he sat in my sitting room looking so stern and withdrawn after our battle with Gabriel. Now, I see why he was acting that way. Now, I finally understand. He’s standing next to Sarah’s bedside holding his son. I almost can’t believe it, but I always knew the Goddess was going to bless Sydney with all the riches he tried to avoid. A radiantly beautiful mate. A perfect, golden child. A boy. His heir. Healthy and strong. The image of them together as I walk into the room is flawless. But there’s a crack in the perfect picture. I can see it in Sarah’s violet eyes–such a strange color. I can see it written all over Sydney’s face as he places a protective hand on Sarah’s shoulders. They’re afraid of what comes next. Sasha. I remind myself her name is Sasha. This woman is Att

It’s Obvious

Sarah I look at the women in the sitting room, wondering if I should pinch myself to make sure this is real, and I’m not cooking this vision up in my muddled brain. I have no idea where Cosette went, but Isla remains in her wingback chair, her legs crossed as she balances a steaming cup of coffee on her knee. Her head is slightly bowed as she speaks in low tones to Maddy, who is fluttering around a low lying coffee table, arranging cookies and pastries on a little tray. Two queens. A mother and daughter by love and marriage with a bond forged by hard times. My stomach does a little flip as I sink to the white carpeted floor with Blake babbling incoherently in my arms as he reaches for the hazel eyed baby sitting only a few feet away. “Careful, she’s crawling now,” Kenna says with some effort as she sinks to her knees, then stretches her legs out with her back resting against the couch. B

The Air I Breathe

Sydney I stayed out all day. I didn’t come home until the sun faded and the sky turned an inky, endless black dotted with stars. Admittedly, I stayed at my office until nearly 10:00 PM just to piss Cosette off, thinking she’d be waiting by the door to cuff my ears even though she was the one who bullied me out of my own home this morning. Being alone, thrust into a somewhat normal routine again, felt right. It felt good. I feel somewhat like myself again after a day working and several hours spent shifting and running through the woods.But I also didn’t stop thinking about Sarah all day long. I replayed those memories she returned to me over and over again until the night we spent together after the ball was so clear I could taste the vanilla chapstick she was wearing and smell the floral perfume scenting her skin. Now I’m home, walking through the garage door, and the house is quiet and dark

The Ancient Art of Marking One’s Mate

Sarah This feels like the very first time. There’s nothing frantic about this. Each touch, every stroke of his fingers, is calculated and meticulous, honed to my pleasure. Sydney’s hands graze up my back as I continue to straddle him, my thighs locked against his hips. I grind against him, growing desperate with need. His fingertips drag down my spine in a touch that sends chills cascading over my body, like he’s hitting every nerve and setting them aflame. There’s nothing in my head. My mind is blissfully quiet as every ounce of my energy focuses on the way he’s touching me and how he tastes when I kiss him again and again. “Sarah.” He growls low in his throat when I bite down on his lip. I grind against his cock, nothing but my leggings and the towel he’s wearing around his waist to separate us. “Please,” I whimper. “Please, Sydney

Hunted By A Wolf

Sarah“This is humiliating!” I whisper, trying to cover my naked body with my hands. The cold night air bites into my skin, numbing the pain of the fresh mark, yes, but stinging everywhere else. Sydney, in his wolf form several feet away, paces back across the patio and says into my mind, ‘If you shift, you’ll be warm.’He did this on purpose. He didn’t so much as offer me a robe, probably to enjoy the sight of me in just my skin, shivering and at his mercy.“I know,” I bite out, annoyed. “I don’t know how!”‘You’ll feel it. Just tell your body what you want it to do.’ He comes to a stop, and in a glimmer of movement and faint light, shifts back into his human form. “See?”I frown at him before squeezing my eyes shut. All right, body. Shift. Turn my hands into paws, or whatever. Nothing. I run my tongue over my canine teeth, testing. He’d noticed they’d sharpened after I marked him, but they feel normal to me. “Sydney, I can’t do it.”He shifts back into a wolf like it’s nothing f

Telling Ryan

Sydney I pull my truck through the gates of Silverhide thirty minutes after leaving my own territory. Tall pines rise up all around me as the road leading out of the city center, and the NZ, narrows, and turns to finely packed gravel dusted with snow. Ryan’s house is the first building visible in the dense forest. It rises above the trees, stately and modern despite being a log home. The windows reflect the snow as I drive past his private driveway and dip down into the village. Silverhide is a small, exclusive pack. After the war twenty-two years ago, several of the rogue villages along the base of the mountains that border Eastonia moved inward, trying to integrate into the packs in Crescent Falls. When Ryan and I came of age and started our own packs, he chose this old, undeveloped territory and opened his gates to whoever wanted to follow his lead then promptly shut them again. His numbers are small even compared

Don’t Trust Her

Sarah Blake lifts his head from the carpet in the sitting room off the foyer, his chubby fingers gripping the carpet fibers as he whines, his mouth pulled in a frown. “This is supposed to be good for you, honey,” I urge when he starts to fuss. Dalia, on her knees beside me, nods in silent agreement. “See? You’re learning how to push up with your arms. Soon you’ll be rolling over onto your back if you want it bad enough.”In response, Blake turns purple with rage and lets out a howl that I’m sure can be heard in the village. Dalia and I exchange looks, but she chuckles softly and promptly scoops him into her arms. “Bath time, then bed, I think,” she says, meeting my eyes for confirmation. I nod, shrugging. I watch them walk away and feel a pang of guilt ghost through my chest. My milk dried up. It was my fault for being so stupid and reckless. Blake doesn’t n

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