Semua Bab The Alpha King's Breeder: Bab 521 - Bab 530

ColeLate afternoon sunlight drifts through several open windows overlooking my desk. I scan the notes I took on Misty’s injuries, written in untidy, looping scrawl. A physician’s handwriting. My mom always said I was going to be a great doctor based on my handwriting alone. Four two-inch lacerations just below the wrist on her right arm. Twenty sutures. I’d used 5ml of sanitizing solution, one roll of medical grade, sterile gauze. If she were an actual patient, I’d see her back in five days to remove any sutures that hadn’t dissolved. And, based on the nature of the injury, I would have ordered antibiotics…. Yeah, antibiotics, a ten day round, just in case.It hadn’t mattered. When she’d burst into the meeting last night, snarling at everyone and going as far as to point her manicured nail at Richard like she was about to put a spell on him, her bandage was gone, and all twenty sutures were fixed on skin that had healed completely. I close my notebook and slide it into the lower dr

MistyIt’s been two hours since I left the apartment I share with Georgia. I creep around another corner, sketching the sharp angles of what I believe might be the fourth floor of this Goddess-forsaken fortress, and I’m no closer to finding a way out than I was when I left my rooms. Another foyer stretches ahead of me, followed by another staircase leading both up and down, splitting down the center. I sigh, tapping my pen on my lip as I ponder whether to take the stairs or keep walking to the exterior bridge that connects this area to another tower, I think. Whoever built this place was a glutton for punishment. My legs are burning from the effort of navigating at least a dozen staircases already. I lean against the wall for a moment to catch my breath, flipping through the four pages of notes and examining the crudely sketched map. I can get back to my room from here. I believe we’re on the sixth or seventh floor up there, if my estimate about where I am now is correct. I haven’t

Aviva“I have her.”Ryan and I turn to look at Sarah. We’ve been avoiding looking at her because, quite frankly, she looks terrifying right now. Her eyes are glowing and totally, completely violet. Her hair floats around her head as she stands with her hands on either side of what Ryan called a “bird bath.” It’s not a bird bath. It’s some weird bowl that an even stranger, tiny man brought here all the way from Veiled Valley. Apparently, Arthur, the royal historian, has a collection of useful objects in his treasure trove in Veiled Valley’s library, and a scrying bowl hadn’t been hard at all to acquire. Still, Sarah has been bent over this bowl for almost a week, whether it’s snowing, blowing, or sunny and absolutely frigid. The tip of her nose is bright red as her glowing eyes widen and her mouth pulls into a smile. “I have her. Guys, I found her!”Several people rush toward her, but Ryan and I hang back. All around us, a city of tents clogs the Silverhide valley with hundreds of w

MistyEverything that happened over the last forty-eight hours is a blur. One moment, I was sitting on the floor of Cole’s trashed bedroom, talking in low tones as he packed his meager belongings into a worn backpack. The next, he donned his cloak and left, and almost nine hours later, returned to me and Georgia passed out cold in one of the apartment’s guestrooms. Georgia didn’t stir when Declan picked her up and carried her out of the room, but Cole woke me gently, telling me it was time to go. I didn’t have time to ask how he’d managed to get us out of the fortress claimed by the order. The few personal items he’d retrieved from my dorm room were already packed away in a car, he’d said. He offered me a sweatshirt that smelled like him and guided me, Georgia, and Luke–with an entourage of over twenty exhausted order members in their black cloaks, through the fortress I failed to map. There was one way out. Maybe at one point in time it would have been a grand foyer, something beau

MistyCole backs me against the doorframe, his body curling over mine to chase my mouth as I lower my feet to the floor. The memory of our kiss from the party weeks ago clogs my brain for several delicious seconds. He tastes the same. Warm and minty. His lips are soft but demanding as his tongue slides over my lower lip, beckoning for me to open for him. The towel covering my body is holding on by a thread as I wrap my arms around his neck. He lifts me up, pinning me against the doorframe and pressing his body to mine. My hand drags down his back, leaving a trail of my healing powers. He trembles, and the kiss turns to something hungry and… wild. “Stop healing me,” he breathlessly commands. “No,” I counter, but his mouth steals the word from my lips. It doesn’t strike me that we should stop. There’s no reason for this. This attraction, this bone-shattering need I’ve felt since we slept together for the first time–as quick and cold as that was. Maybe it’s morbid curiosity. Maybe i