All Chapters of The Alpha King’s human breeder : Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

Five's POVI had been warned in the way I was warned about everything, by Seven, who looked at the sky that morning and said, "Tonight," and then handed me a cup of cold water without comment.It didn't help.By dusk the heat had settled under my skin and refused to leave just like last time. I knew what was happening, knew what my body needed. Every seam of my dress felt like a hand, and the stone floor was too cold against my bare feet and not cold enough. Each time I closed my eyes I smelled pine.I was furious about it.Three days had passed since the council annex. Three days of polite silence, of passing him in corridors with my chin level, greetings said exactly as flatly as it had been said in the beginning. He had sent no summons. I had sent no message. Somewhere in the citadel a new administrator was being chosen for Facility Seven, and every time I thought about it, my hands shook.I was not going to go to him.That was the decision. I sat on the edge of my bed with my k

Seven's POVI was on my way to the kitchen when I heard the guard."Beta’s in rut," he whispered to the man beside him, his voice low, almost amused. "Third night. Barracks won't go near his corridor.""Who's he got?""No one. That's the strange part."I kept walking. I kept my face smooth and my pace even, because a slave who slows down when wolves are talking is a slave who has been listening.I had been listening.The kitchen was on my left. I took the stairs to the right instead. Curious, I told myself. Only curious. A person is allowed to wonder whether a man who said ‘I will wait a very long time’ meant it.His corridor was empty. The air was thick with pine-smoke and cedar and something wilder underneath, the smell of a wolf. My skin prickled. Something low in my belly responded, and I resented it.His door was ajar.I pushed it open with two fingers.The bed was made. Perfectly, military-tight, not slept in. No lamp was lit. No woman's perfume, no torn robe, no Corinne in

Lucien's POVThe lower keep smelled of damp stone and, faintly, of almonds.I noted it the moment we reached the cell and said nothing. Five noted it a half second later. I felt her stiffen beside me through the bond.Fenn sat upright on the cot, his hands folded in his lap, his chin lifted, the posture he had worn in my study. In death it looked less like composure than a final insult. His grey coat was still immaculate. The empty cup lay on its side by his foot."Nobody touched him?" I asked."The physician," Theron informed. "Briefly. Nothing else."I crouched and studied the body without touching it. His lips had a faint blue cast. His fingers were clean. There was no struggle in the cell, no scuffed floor, no torn cloth."He drank it willingly," Five observed quietly.I looked up."Look at his hands." She stayed in the doorway, careful not to disturb the room. "He folded them. He knew what was in the cup and sat down to wait. Someone gave him a choice.""Or someone showed him a w

Lucien's POV The council convened at midmorning, and I gave them everything except the one thing that mattered. I gave them Greywater, the buried facility, the sealed cells, Fenn's trap, the soldiers in plain black, the ledgers Theron had carried out in six crates. I laid it out in the order I had rehearsed, evenly, and watched the councilmen absorb it with their shoulders drawn up, their eyes moving to each other. I said nothing of the archive's last door. Nothing of a warm room, a kettle, a woman who had braided the first woman's hair. Iseult was a hundred and four years of testimony, and I intended to bring her before this table only when she could not be quietly removed. "A facility operating outside the crown's knowledge," Lord Aldous started, his voice thin. "For how long?" "Decades," I responded. "Fenn confirmed the secondary operation predates my reign." "And Fenn is dead." "Poisoned in my keep." I let the weight of that sit, let the subtle accusation stir them. "Which

Five's POVI woke in a bed too small for the man beside me.His feet hung off the end. A carved wooden horse stood on the windowsill, one ear chipped, and the ceiling had a water stain shaped like a lopsided bird. Lucien slept on his stomach with one arm flung across my waist, his face pressed into a pillow that had been aired for the first time in years.I lay still and let myself have it.He woke an hour later and pretended he hadn't been watching me do the same."Come," he hummed, pulling on his shirt. "There's one more room."***It was at the end of the upper corridor, a door painted pale green, the paint flaking.He stood with his hand on the knob for a long moment."I haven't opened it," his voice was quiet. "Not since.""We don't have to.""I want to." He exhaled. "I want you to see her."He twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, giving us space to step in. The room was small and bright. There was a narrow bed with a patchwork quilt. A shelf of lopsided clay animals.