Todos los capítulos de The Alpha King's Breeder: Capítulo 611 - Capítulo 620

Brie Hot, bright, unforgiving sunlight burns through my eyelids. My body feels… shattered–and itchy. Incredibly itchy and dry and… I open my eyes just enough to feel the grit of sand before I close them again, my stomach rolling and twisting. I cough once–a painful experience that has me moving quickly from lying flat on my belly to my knees where I choke and gag, spilling an exceedingly large amount of water from my lungs. My throat burns like fire. My teeth ache. My lips burn from several splits now packed with… sand. I wipe my face which only spreads the sand further. I spit more water, gulping down air and choking on it like my lungs aren’t used to breathing anymore. My hair sticks to my face in wet, sandy clumps. My skin is raw and blistered from the sun. It comes back to me in fragments. Fractured memories of a fire, of a fight, of death, hurtle to the forefront of m

Brie I gasp as cold water rushes over my head and shoulders, flowing down my body in icy rivelets. The woman leaning against the doorframe nearby smirks at my expense as I shiver violently, trying desperately to cover my naked body with my arm braced over my breasts and my hand shielding the apex of my thighs. Another bucket of water is dumped over my head, and I swallow some of it, choking. “It’s not that bad,” Monica smirks, her arms crossed over her chest as she watches another woman, a young maid or something, start scrubbing sand from my hair for a fourth time. “Wh-why is it-it so c-c-cold?” I stammer through chattering teeth. “It’s filtered water, that’s why.” She untangles her arms and knocks on the doorframe, her pretty, angular face shining with pride. “This ship might look like something out of the stone-age, but it’s high-tech. We have

Logan I don’t remember falling asleep. I don’t remember much of the past day, actually, not since washing up on the shore on some nameless island. I slowly sit up, wincing as bright, fresh pain ripples through my back. I press my hand to my chest where the bandages cover most of my skin and find them damp with blood, but it’s not fresh. No, I must have stopped bleeding like a stuck pig a few hours ago. That’s one thing going my way, at least. A soft murmur beside me steals my attention from my pain, and I turn to find Brie fast asleep, her hands tucked beneath her cheek. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear her hair natural before. It’s wild and… lovely. But looking at her–at the soft, relaxed expression on her face as she sleeps–has me careening back to going into the water with her and realizing that was it. I’m not sure how we survived. Call it divine intervent

Brie Night falls on the trio of ships. During the course of the evening, the ships had been readied, and the camp on the beach had been totally dismantled, leaving no trace that Alex’s pack had ever been there. Now, against a blanket of silver moonlight, the Artemis bobs in the shallows just beyond the mouth of the lagoon, engines purring and sails drawn. I lean against the railing and soak in the cool night breeze. It smells amazing here–like salt and tropical flowers. It’s almost exactly like Maatua but far more rocky and mountainous. Beyond the mountain shielding the lagoon, nothing but calm, open water stretches as far as the eye can see… which means we’ll be totally exposed to whatever enemies are lying in wait. The deck teems with people waiting for the two other ships to silently leave the lagoon. It’s a rough looking bunch–mostly hardened men with deep suntans and scars on

MaeveThe hallowed halls of the palace in Moonrise are quiet and somber. Normally, light would spill through the ancient stained glass windows lining the foyer, casting sunlight that made the golden walls gleam, but today everything is dark. Gray. Lifeless. Rain thunders across the glass ceiling, echoing down hallways usually alive with conversation and bodies bustling from room to room. Now, my only company is my shadow, and even that’s trying to curl away, just as worn and empty as I feel. It’s been nearly a week since we lost Brie. I couldn’t stay in Maatua for another second waiting for news.I walk up the grand staircase, wearing a hoodie, jeans, and sneakers, a far cry from the sweeping, luxurious gowns of silk I normally dress in when visiting my future home.Yes, one day all of this will be mine. I’ve known it–felt it in my bones since I was just a little girl. I will be queen. Soon. Three years from now, I’ll stand on the balcony and wave down at the people of Moonrise–of a