All Chapters of The Alpha King's Breeder: Chapter 681 - Chapter 690

MaeveMy family has gathered for a final supper before everyone goes back to their usual lives. I sit at the head of the table, picking at my food, my stomach still in knots. I feel hot and cold at the same time, which is unnerving. I don’t get sick. Not unless I exhaust my powers, but the last few days have been… a real test of my limits, I suppose. This isn’t a formal dinner by any means. Everyone is dressed comfortably and moving around, mingling in small groups. Kieran is asleep in Logan’s arms while he and Brie talk in quiet tones to my parents, while Sydney, my grandpa, and my father talk to Ryan on the far side of the room, glasses of whiskey in their hands as they stand near one of the windows overlooking the city below. I had the meal setup in one of the upstairs rooms–the pink room, we call it. It’s wide and deep, with enough room to fit the entire family comfortably. It used to be a playroom. I remember being here as a kid with Maddy watching over all of us while the othe

MaeveIt’s snowing in Crescent Falls. I watch the landscape rush by as I ride in the back of a blacked out SUV, resting my hands on the swell of my growing belly. I’m nearly eight months pregnant now. The reality of my situation hasn’t set in yet. I think back on that day when I’d sat on the bathroom floor with Jane, spilling my heart out, often. Everything since that moment has been a blur. Within days of confirming the pregnancy, I started my grand tour of Eastonia. First, I traveled through Moonrise and the towns and villages surrounding the main city, formally introducing myself as their queen. Then, I spent a few weeks in Veiled Valley with my family while navigating my royal duties and guarding my secret. I didn’t tell my mom I was pregnant. She still doesn’t know. I don’t know how to say it. I left Veiled Valley and traveled through the Roguelands, with many dozens of stops, meeting face to face with every Alpha, Beta, and Luna. I sat in on pack meetings, listening to the tr

MaeveThree kings sit before me at a large circular table in a simple, but bright, room within the temple in Crescent Falls. Sweat prickles along my brow line, but my magic keeps my nerves under wraps as King Lucius of Lunaria smiles at me, pleased, I think, with how the summit went. King Evan of Celestoria, however, keeps his expression cool and collected, while Sydney sits somewhat smugly nearby, glancing at his watch. We’ve been here for hours, covering everything from trade to the relationships between the territories under our separate control. With so much migration and tourism between our four kingdoms these days, not to mention a massive boom in population that followed the War of Tarsian twenty years ago, the agenda was long and tightly managed, but long nonetheless. I’m tired, hungry, and ready to leave. I smooth the fabric of my neat, perfectly tailored black and gold suit jacket. My hair is tightly woven into a bun at the nape of my neck, and Brie did my makeup this mor

SorenSnow falls in heaps that stick to hanging neon signs coated in ice. Street lights flicker as I move through the shadows, keeping my head down and my eyes covered by a thin strip of black fabric. A group of drunk patrons stumble out of a bar in front of me, tumbling into the ice covered street, carrying music and the scent of beer in their wake, but no one looks in my direction. It’s easy to go unseen in a city this size. In the distance, between the gaps between old apartment buildings and shops, shadows rise over the icy river. There used to be a city there. Now it’s a wasteland, nothing but ash. Twin Rivers has a sordid history. I hate coming here. It’s noisy and dirty but constantly bustling. It reminds me of some of the bigger cities in Crescent Falls that fell out of the influence of the royal family. Crime runs rampant here, practically unchecked. I know this city is on Maeve’s radar. It’s the largest city in the Roguelands, with twelve packs claiming territory in the c

MaeveMy hands move to my stomach on instinct, cradling the heavy swell and the baby currently kicking the absolute life out of me. My lips part with another heavy breath, but words fail me as the phantom, the man who blesses my dreams, lifts his head and meets my eyes. He looks… the same, but different. That wry, charming boyishness has bled into something hard and dark–hollow, just like I’ve felt for nine months. He’s wearing that same dusty blue backward ball cap, but his hair is a little longer, curls poking out around his ears. His eyes are the same trio of colors but lined with dark circles–exhaustion, I realize, as I take another tentative step into the room, not daring to blink lest he disappear. The column of his throat bobs as he holds my gaze, searching my eyes, my face, his eyes uncharacteristically wetting as he licks his lips and lets his gaze lower to my stomach. I feel a sudden jolt of uncertainty, maybe even shame. “Soren,” I suck back the word as it splinters int