Semua Bab The Alpha King's Breeder: Bab 471 - Bab 480

AvivaThe moment Ryan stirs again, I launch into motion. I’m out of the tent the second he begins to stretch like he’s the only one on the sleeping mat. I run at a full sprint through the center of the camp, wearing nothing but his shirt. I jump into Freya’s tent and land with a crunch on top of her. She squeals, swatting me as she tries to untangle herself from the quilt she bundled herself up in last night. “What the hell are you doing, Aviva?”I grab her cheeks. She blinks sleepily up at me, her eyes cloudy with confusion. “I need you to tell me everything about men. Everything.”***“Look at those idiots,” Freya giggles as she pops another perfect, sweet strawberry into her mouth. I lick strawberry juice from my fingers and turn to look over my shoulder at the group of men on opposite sides of the creek below, yelling and arguing with each other as they try to get the two heavy, overladen carts across the swollen creek. I smirk down at them. I doubt they’ve even noticed us watch

Ryan Rain pelts the roof of the packhouse. It’s the largest building, other than the barns we erected last year, in Silverhide. It’s an exact model of our packhouse back in Crescent Falls but made with cruder materials instead of things like steel and concrete. The log walls still smell like cedar as I walk around, making the rounds, checking in on my pack. Everyone has questions about my wife, of course. Jacob, after being sent to Silverhide to gather help with the carts, spread the word. Now I’m being showered in clipped congratulations, everyone sounding a little unsure. I’m sure the strained smile on my face doesn’t help. Aviva is seated at the end of one of the three long, wooden tables. She has a plate of food in front of her, and I’ve been watching her eat as I weave from pack member to pack member, making sure she’s actually touching her food. She’s seated next to Shosanna, who&rsq

AvivaRyan turns away as I strip out of my dress in a pocket of trees toward the very back of the village. I hang it on a tree branch before shifting into my wolf form, feeling naked despite my thick fur. I’m used to having my knife belt and bow slung across my back even in wolf form, but now I’m in my skin, and I’m not giving Ryan the same courtesy as he strips off his clothes. I do turn my head to avoid watching him take off his boxers, however. I’m not that desperate. He clutches the camera in his mouth, protected by a little leather bag, and leads me through a network of wolf trails that weave through a rather dense forest that hugs the back of the village. We follow the creek at one point, which weaves through the forest. It’s the only sound other than the rustling of the leaves overhead. It’s beautiful here, I have to admit. The forest is thick as we start gaining in elevation toward the very back of the valley where the mountains Silverhide is nestled between finally join. A

Aviva Warmth. I feel warm to the bone and heavy as I roll to the side and snuggle deeper against the body beside me. My hands drift up his stomach to his chest, tracing taut muscles until I reach the half moon shaped scar on his shoulder. He stirs, rolling over and running his calloused hand over the slope of my naked hip, over my thigh. When he kisses me, it’s unhurried, his tongue sweeping over mine and exploring any place he hasn’t yet discovered. My breasts ache as he rolls my peaked nipples between his fingers, stirring that desperate, unending want between my legs. His tongue dances with mine as he slides a hand down over my belly, his fingers reaching for my slit, and he finds me wet and aching for him. He hums with satisfaction, his mouth still on mine, and whispers, “What have you done to me, little wolf? I can’t get enough.”I gasp, my eyes flying open to pale gray daylight str

Aviva “I know that feels better,” Freya says, frowning at the frantically bleating sheep, who is now sheared clean and pretty much naked as it gallops off to join its herd. She wipes her brow, squinting into the sunlight as she gathers up an enormous handful of raw wool and carries it over to the creek where I’m crouching in the water, rinsing another batch of wool until it shines a soft white. “Who’s next?”“That one,” I laugh, tilting my head to the giant, gray and black ram with spiraling horns that looks like he wants nothing more than to kill us both. He stamps his hooves and lowers his head in emphasis, snorting and shaking his fuzzy head. “That fucker,” Freya growls, tucking her hair behind her hairs and stretching out her arms over her head. “He’s been getting in my way all morning.”“I can take him, if you want.” She shakes h