Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 38 :1 Made a Huge Mistake

♦Lena*

Crimson Creek faded from view, its lights just a shimmer on the far horizon as the train rumbled forward

through the slow rolling hills. The train car was dark: the few passengers sharing our journey were

settling in their seats, closing their eyes.

Seven hours until we reached Morhan.

I glanced at Xander, who was sitting opposite me. He had a magazine in his hands and was staring

blankly at it. His eyes flicked up to meet mine, and I quickly looked away, a feeling of absolute dread

washing over me.

We'd ended things. Mutually. Even if we hadn't actually said the words that whatever we had been was

done. I didn't know why he'd chosen to sit so close to me when there were rows and rows of empty

seats.

The constant vibration of the train began to lull me into a stupor, my eyelids growing heavy with sleep. I

looked over at Xander one last time before closing my eyes.

Let bygones be bygones, I thought with distress.

It was over.

It was time to go home.

I'd built this place. Every pebble along the edge of the clear pond, every drop of water cascading from

the gentle waterfall lapping down the dark chunks of granite leading to the forest above. This glen was

mine, every inch of it. I'd made the emerald grass so soft it felt like cashmere against my bare toes, and

the glistening dew that dusted the grass wasn’t wet, or cold.

Ivy climbed up the trucks of the weeping willows that encircled my haven. Thickets of honeysuckle

grew along the side of a workshop, its walls painted blue and dappled with stars.

I hadn't been here in years. I'd locked this place away in my mind, keeping it safe.

Time hadn't touched my glen, my secret garden. Pockets of sunlight drifted through the willows and

dusted the grass as I walked forward, breathing deeply the heavy scent of hyacinth and hydrangea.

The door to the workshop was well-oiled and didn't make a sound as I opened it. Shelves full of paint

lined one wall, and a large built-in hutch was on the far side, filled to the brim with paper, canvas,

pencils, and pens. I breathed in the scent of ink. my body letting go of the tension I'd been carrying.

A short while later. I was sitting at the edge of the pond with my sketchbook propped on my knees. I

was sketching the small golden fish that lived in the pond, their scales reflecting like jewels in the crisp,

clear water.

I decided at that moment that I had no reason to leave this place. I had everything I needed. The

weather was always warm. It never rained. I had an abundance of flowers and plants to look at and

study.

No one could find me here. It was only for me. Just me. No one was here to tell me what to do, how to

think, who to be.

I placed my hand on the grass, gripping the emerald tufts between my fingers. Purple clover began to

sprout around my touch, blossoming right before my eyes. I smiled, flipped the page of my sketchbook,

and began to draw the purple blooms.

But my pencil didn't make a single mark. I lifted the leaden tip and turned it, eyeing the pointed edge

with interest. I tried again, but the pencil disintegrated against my touch, turning to dust.

“What-"

A breeze made the long willow branches tremble, dragging their leaves through the water. I looked up

where the stut was filtering througli the canopy as tiny specks of light came cascading down over me

and the water's edge. They settled on the water, floating in the gentle current.

"You've returned," said a voice. There was no direction to the voice, it was just there, echoing over the

water and wafting on the breeze. "Builder of realms."

"Not for long," I whispered, looking around for the voice. How many times had it found me over the

years? It was the only thing that had breached my sanctuary's defenses. It was not malicious or

wanting, however. The genderless voice had simply been there, and it had likely been there before I

even laid the foundation of my dreamlike garden. I assumed it was just my subconscious manifesting

itself. The voice knew all of my secrets and desires. It was like an imaginary friend, in a way, and had

been so since I was just a child.

"Still enjoying your time in the realm of the mortals?"

"I wouldn't say I'm enjoying it," I said with a smirk, watching the white specks continue to dance over

the water. "But I have things to do-"

“Why not do them here?"

"I cannot," I said simply. "Did you miss me. voice? I haven't been here for a very long time."

"I know not of time, builder."

"Alt, yes. I forgot."

The little specks rose from the water, drifting througli the air like dust in a ray of sun coming througli the

glass pane of a window. I watched them for a moment, letting my sketchbook fall from my lap as I

hugged my knees.

"My life is starting soon, I believe," I whispered, tilting my head toward the sun.

"You've said that before." the voice said, then chuckled softly, the sound earned away by the breeze.

"What's different this time? Is it the man?"

I flushed, narrowing my eyes.

"How did you know?"

"He's waiting for you. He's trying to wake you up-"

I opened my eyes, blinking into the heavy fluorescent light of the train car. Xander was shaking me by

the shoulders, concern darkening his features. I swatted him. pushing him away.

"I was asleep!" I hissed, then glanced around. The train was stopped and passengers were beginning

to disembark.

Xander didn't say anything but watched me closely as he backed away, reaching up to pull our bags

from the overhead bin. He roughly tossed me my duffle bag, and I caught it, fixing him with a glare.

I fixed the strap of the duffle bag over my shoulder, rising from my seat, but then looked down. I froze

for a moment, then looked up at Xander, whose eyes were still firmly fixed on my own.

Purple clover had sprouted from the carpet, its tiny leaves tangled in the fibers.

"Let's go." he said sternly, trying to take me by the elbow, but I shoved past him and hurried down the

aisle.

My blood was racing when I stepped onto the snow-covered platform. Xander was right behind me.

grasping me by the hood of my jacket as he whirled me around to face him.

“What the hell was that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"I thought you were dead," he said, leaning close to hiss in my ear. "You were sitting there with your

eyes wide open!"

"I was asleep." I ground out. "Bye, Xander." I sidestepped around him and tiudged through the thickly

falling snow, my chest tight with nerves.

He didn't follow. But I could feel his gaze on me as I walked off the platform and onto the sidewalk.

The walk wasn't far. I'd left my trunk back in Crimson Creek. There was no reason to take it home with

me, not since all of my equipment was now considered evidence pertaining to the estate. I adjusted the

weight of my duffle bag as I walked up the street, feeling like an outsider in the place I'd called home for

three years.

I rounded the comer and saw the building where our apartment was situated, the lights from the

bodega on the first floor flooding into the street. I looked up at the fourth floor, seeing a light on in what

would be our living room, and I let out my breath.

I'd be home in two minutes, tops.

"Lena." Xander said.

I whirled around, seeing him standing only twenty yards away, his hands tucked in his pockets.

The look on his face broke whatever was left of my heart. He shifted his weight, tilting his head a little

as he looked over at me.

“Are you sure?" he said, his voice catching in his throat.

“Are you?" I asked. I was on the verge of tears again. Twenty yards, that was it. I could run to him.

throw my amis around his neck—

"I'm happy I... I got to know you," he said, his face etched with grief.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he turned around and disappeared around the comer.

I stared at where he'd been standing. I wondered for a moment if he'd even been there to begin with. I

clutched the strap of my duffle bag until my knuckles turned white, a sob threatening to escape my

throat.

Then I took a step forward, then another, and suddenly my duffle bag was on the ground, and I was

miming as fast as I could back around the comer in the direction Xander had gone.

But the next street was empty. The brick buildings cast a shadow over the snow-covered sidewalk, and

as I looked down I saw not one single footprint in the fresh, powder fine snow.

I opened my mouth, an exclamation of shock on the tip of my tongue. But then someone shouted my

name.

"LEEEEENA!" Heather called, waving her gloved hands at me as I turned around. “What the hell are

you doing? We saw you from the window-"

"I dropped something," I lied, walking toward her.

Unease rippled over my skin as I approached Heather, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder

beneath a red knit beanie. She was dressed in pajamas and a bathrobe, but had her heavy winter

boots on. at least.

“Come on, it's freezing. We just made a pot of coffee."

I picked up my duffle bag, dusting the snow from its surface. Heather and I linked amis as we walked

up the hill toward our apartment, slipping every once in a while during the climb.

"Don't tell me about it yet," she grinned, squeezing my ami. "I want to talk all about it over coffee."

"There's not much to say," I said gently, reaching up to wipe away the snowflakes that were stuck to my

eyelashes.

"Oh, please," she laughed, nudging me a little. "Abigail told us everything in her last letter."

I stopped walking. Heather slipped, and I steadied her before she brought us both down onto the

sidewalk. “What did she say?" Blood was lushing into my cheeks, which made them tingle painfully.

"That you and Xander were getting cozy." she teased, giving me a smug smile.

"Did she say anything else?"

“Mmin... No, that was it. She said you'd have a lot of explaining to do when you got home. Let's go. It’s

really starting to snow now. I bet they cancel the Graduate Luncheon tomorrow because of-"

Her voice faded as we began walking again, my mind taking me elsewhere. I thought of my dream, of

my secret garden, and the voice inside that place that always kept me company. What had it said to

me. exactly? I could never remember....

Before I knew it, we were inside the apartment. Viv screamed with delight when I walked in behind

Heather, pushing Heather out of the way to wrap me in a tight hug. Within minutes I was out of my coat

and settled on the couch with a hot cup of coffee in my hands, looking out the window at the sky. which

was just starting to lighten with the first hint of morning.

Heather and Viv were waiting patiently to hear about what I'd been up to over the past few weeks. But

they were only interested in hearing about my time with Xander, and they seemed to be in the dark

about everything else I'd told Abi about Crimson Creek and what had been happening there.

"So?" Heather said, snuggling deeper into the fluffy blanket she had draped over her knees. "Xander? I

knew it-"

"I was wrong," I cried, not even trying to hide the pain in my voice.

Viviene’s face fell, and Heather jumped to her knees in concent as I began to crumble in the space

between them on the couch.

"I was wrong about him. I made a huge mistake. I made... I love-"