All Chapters of The Alpha King’s human breeder : Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Five’s POV I recognized it — that warmth moving up from somewhere central, spreading through my chest and down my arms, reaching my fingertips with a pressure that had become familiar. I pushed it back. "I am not something you can protect selectively," I continued. "You cannot hold me at night and leave me to her in the morning. You cannot claim me before the council and then be absent when the claim needs to mean something." The heat was pushing back against my effort to contain it, insistent, responding to something in my voice or my chest that I couldn't fully govern. "I am not asking you to put me first. I am not asking you to choose me over your kingdom or your responsibilities or any of the hundred things that have a prior claim on your attention." "Five—" "I am asking you to not make me feel like nothing!" I finished. The last word came out with something underneath it that I hadn't meant to release. The heat surged. The lamp on his desk flared — a sudden bright flare,

Five’s POV "She's your friend," I drawled. "That's sufficient." "That's not a reason," she countered. "That's cruelty." "Slaves don't get to determine that," I said. Something moved across her face. I watched it happen — the thing I had been waiting for, the thing I had calculated this entire conversation to produce. Not because I wanted to cause her pain. Because I needed to see it. Because I needed to know with certainty, with my own eyes, in a controlled setting, before I could act on what I suspected. I needed to see what she was. "You promised," she reminded. "I promised nothing," I said. "You said — after Rebecca, after the courtyard—" her jaw tightened. "You said it wouldn't happen again. You said—" "I said what was necessary," I countered flatly. "You are a slave. I am your king. The parameters of what I say and what I mean are mine to determine." She looked at me. I looked back. And watched the thing I had been building toward arrive. It started in her eyes — a

Lucien’s POV She blinked. Something in my voice had reached her — the shift in it, the temperature of it. "Alright," I repeated again. "Then we stop." She said nothing. "Whatever this is," I said, gesturing to the space between us, "beyond what it needs to be. We stop." I kept my voice even. "You are my slave. I am your king. The parameters are clear." Her jaw tightened slightly. "I will deal with the facility," I continued. "What they know about you, what they want with you, what Elvis's involvement is — I will find it and I will handle it. That is in my interest regardless of what happens between us." She was very still. "And when it's handled," I said, "when the immediate threat is removed and the situation is stable—" I held her gaze. "I'll breed you." The word landed in the room like something dropped from a height. Her eyes changed. Not the ancient quality — something more immediate than that. Something that flickered through her expression before she locked it down.

Seven's POVThe girls who had spent three years in Elvis's quarters.I watched one of them as she moved, her bob bouncing with each step she took.That seemed to be the only thing other than her legs that moved.She had learned to take as little space as possible, had learned to draw as little attention to herself as possible — in this case, none.I approached carefully, falling into step beside her.She glanced at me, but said nothing.I kept my gaze forward, maintaining the silence as we walked.Earn her trust. I needed to earn her trust."Your hair is different," I mused, keeping my voice light.She froze.Gotcha.Her entire countenance was blending in. A hairdo that stood out was a slave's nightmare."I'm not the first slave with a bob."Her voice was low and empty."You're not," I agreed. "But you're the first to bob it like that."She didn't say anything.Just kept walking.But I could tell something had changed. I just couldn't identify what.We walked in silence for another co

Five's POVI took a step back, as if hit by a physical blow.She had known.Before it happened — or as it was happening — she had known, and she had left this here for us to find. I folded the cloth back around the paper and pressed it flat in my palm.I stood in the garden with the grey sky above me and understood what the absence of Fifty meant.They had done something to her. We had underestimated Elvis, and he had shown us we were nothing but rats playing against wolves."Damnit," I cursed, my voice carrying the weight of my frustration.This was the work of Elvis or the facility, or both.I couldn't tell which it was because they moved through the same quiet administrative channels.Fifty was gone.I swallowed back the lump in my throat, pushing back the tears threatening to spill.The warmth moved through me — not the power, not yet. Something underneath the power. Something that had been building since a girl named Sixty-seven had wanted to leave and never come back, since a