Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 80 : Blood in the Snow

Maeve

Snow was falling in thick, heavy sheets as we walked along the dock, our footsteps absorbed into the

vacuum of total and complete silence that accompanied such weather. I could barely see the village

through the snow, just hints of the multi-colored cabins that were nestled near the shore. The snow was

heavy, sliding from the metal roofs as the cabins warmed within and wood-smoked funneled through

chimneys.

My steps felt unsteady as I walked, not used to being on solid ground after five weeks at sea. The

journey took longer than we expected, having met bad weather as we passed through the Isles and

various challenges with the boat as we crept through the ice filled water of the north-eastern coastline.

There had been a few times we had almost given up, debating whether to turn west and seek refuge in

Breles, unsure of what awaited us if we stayed east and landed in Valoria.

But none of that mattered anymore.

I was home.

I stopped at the edge of the dock where the wide–plank floorboards met the rocky trail leading back to

the village. I remember stopping here before, but on the other side, looking out over the port at the

seaplane idling on the water, waiting to take me to Mirage, to my destiny

1. LV.

Would I have still gone if I knew what was in store for me?

Troy had said something to me, but his words vanished into the snow. I looked up, seeing a darkened

figure standing on the bluff just above the port. I immediately knew it was my dad.

Troy fell behind as I walked forward, the snow piling around my ankles as I trudged up the slope leading

into the village. I watched my feet, unsure of what to do or say when I faced him. I knew Dad was

matching my pace. He always had. He had never let me get too far ahead of him or fall too far behind.

He was waiting for me at the top of the slope where the gravel road began. I could just make out his face

in the dim light cast by the porch lights of the nearby cabins. His hair was wild, much longer than when I

had last seen him. Snowflakes were sticking to his beard and eyelashes. His face was expressionless.

“Hi, Dad,” I said softly, biting the inside of my lower lip. I didn’t realize I had my arms wrapped beneath

my belly before I felt a wave of shame wash over me, causing me to tuck my chilled fingers into the

pockets of the oversized wool coat I was wearing.

“Hey, kid,” he breathed, and the briefest hint of a smile touched his cheek and was gone before I could

even blink.

I stared at him, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to will myself to speak. He tilted his head, his

eyes creasing against the silent tears welling in the corners of his eyes. “Where’ve you been? It’s been a

long time”

I ran to him, throwing my arms around him as he curled his body around mine, locking me in a warm

embrace. I didn’t try to stifle the sobs as I broke down, clinging to his jacket so hard my nails left marks in

the leather

“It’s okay,” he said into my hair, resting his cheek against the top of my head. “It’s fine. You’re home now.”

“I’m home,” I mumbled against his jacket, the words barely audible, “Where’s Mom?”

“She is at the house, asleep.”

“Oh,” I said weakly, a fresh wave of my tears soaking into his jacket as I pressed my face against his

chest. She was alive. She was still alive.

“We need to talk about-” Dad paused, his body going rigid with tension

I squeezed him harder, knowing he had spotted Troy, who had likely just reached the top of the slope

and was in full view of Dad. I turned my head to look over my shoulder at Troy, giving him a weak smile.

He gave me one of his signature crooked smiles, but then he shifted his gaze toward the road, his brow

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furrowing as he began to slowly lower our bags onto the ground.

I peeked over Dad’s arm just in time to witness a blurred figure sprint by, stopping in front of Troy in a

spray of snow, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“You get one shot,” Troy said slowly, letting go of our bags and straightening to his full height. “Because I

deserve it.”

Rowan wound his arm back and punched Troy cleanly in the jaw. Troy shook his head, spitting blood into

the snow before looking back up at Rowan. He caught Rowan’s hand in his as Rowan attempted to

swing at him again, and arched his brow. “I said one!”

“Troy!” I squeaked, but Dad promptly shushed me, an odd look in his eyes as he watched Troy and

Rowan start to beat the living hell out of each other in the middle of the road.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, Maeve,” Dad said, continuing to watch the fight. He grimaced when

Rowan reared back and headbutted Troy in the nose, and then arched his brow, slightly impressed,

when Troy put Rowan in a headlock in return, forcing Rowan to his knees.

“You’re enjoying this,” I hissed, trying to free myself from his embrace.

He chuckled silently, his chest vibrating as he loosened his grip on me.

“This is really the guy, then?”

“I love him,” I said bluntly and with enough force to draw Dad’s attention away from the fight.

He stared at me, searching my eyes for understanding. “I know,” he replied, his voice soft and calm

against the sounds of Troy and Rowan fighting in the background of what could have been a sweet

father daughter moment.

I turned away from Dad to glare at the two idiots behind me, losing my patience. “We get it, you’re very

strong and manly!” I snapped.

Troy was flat on his back, his leg wrapped around one of Rowan’s and his arms pinning Rowan’s arms to

his side. Troy had taught me that move, something he called a sweep, and I knew he was only moments

away from flipping Rowan onto his stomach and holding him down until he tapped out.

Troy immediately released Rowan from his hold on him at my words and my dad’s steely gaze, but

Rowan used that to his advantage, turning on Troy and continuing the match.

“They’re enjoying themselves,” Dad said beneath his breath, tilting his head as he watched them

continue to roll through the snow and murmur curses. “I used to be young once, you know. I used to do…

whatever it is they’re doing.”

Rowan had met his physical match in Troy, and had resorted to throwing snowballs to ward off any

further attacks, one of them hitting Troy squarely in the chest where his wound was. I flinched as I

watched Troy double over, holding his hand out in momentary surrender. It had healed well over the past

several weeks, but was still tender

“Are you mad at me?” I asked Dad, not daring to look at him.

He was still for a moment, then shrugged, shaking his head as he rested his chin on the top of my head.

“There’s nothing to be mad about. Are you upset with me, though?”

“Why would I be upset with you?”

“I didn’t find you.”

I didn’t know what to say. I could hear the hurt in his voice as he spoke, and my eyes began to water as I

turned my focus back on Troy and Rowan, who were, of course, back to throwing punches, although it

was obvious they were beginning to tire.

I almost said I hadn’t wanted him to find me, spilling my long-held anxieties about the idea of him, and

Mom, falling into Damian’s trap. I swallowed my words, resting my head against his arm as we watched

Troy and Rowan. I shifted my gaze to the side, catching Pete out of the corner of my eye. He was

standing still with his backpack sliding off of his shoulder and onto his arm.

He dropped it into the snow as he took a single step toward the blonde woman standing in front of him,

facing him. She was wearing nothing but a plush bathrobe and flannel pajama pants, her hair knotted in

a loose bun on the top of her head, ruffled from sleep. Pete took her hand.

“How is this possible?” I whispered to myself, watching them with interest. We had been in Winter Forest

for ten whole minutes and Pete had found his mate.

“You’re shivering,” Dad said as he wound his arm around my shoulder and turned me toward the village,

our house in the distance blanketed in snow and perched on the hill overlooking the village. “Let’s go

home.”

“Okay,” I replied, too overwhelmed to argue that we should break Rowan and Troy up first.

We walked past Pete and the blonde woman, and I couldn’t help but stare. Neither of them looked at us

as we passed by, but I recognized her-Kacidra, Aaron’s twin sister, who I had only met the one time their

family had visited Winter Forest ten years ago. I opened my mouth to ask Dad what she was doing here

but was interrupted by Dad’s voice drifting through the chilled, snowy air.

“There’s a lot we need to discuss.”

“1-I know.”

“Something happened while you were gone,”

“It was Mom, wasn’t it?”

Dad was silent, but his arm was still resting over my shoulders as we walked, his hand squeezing my

arm in response to my question.

He would’ve told me if she were dead. Dad wouldn’t lie to me and tell me she was sleeping if she was

dead. Rowan’s focus wouldn’t have been on Troy. He wouldn’t have even cared about Troy if Mom had

died while I was away.

We were nearing the house, the gates to the compound just visible as we turned the corner and started

walking up the driveway. A light was on in the living room, setting the deck above the garage alight in a

safe yellow glow.

I felt like I was just here, like I had just been standing beneath the shelter of the deck while the first

spring rain pounded against the floorboards above my head, going over the proposal my Dad had

pitched to me only moments before. Go to Mirage. Give the pack of Drogomor an heir. Rule as Luna.

Be a mother.

I stopped walking just as we reached the gate, unable to step forward. Dad removed his arm, turning to

me.

“Alpha Damian is dead,” I said without thinking, staring blankly at the woodgrain on the garage door.

“How?”

“A friend of mine killed him. When we were… it doesn’t matter.”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now. It’s the middle of the night.”

A silence passed between us as I continued to stare forward, feeling lightheaded. “Okay”

“Come inside, Maeve. Sleep. Sleep in your own bed.” Dad shuffled his feet, crossing his arms over his

chest as he looked up at the living room. “I’ll tell your mom you’re home in the morning.”

“Is she hurt?”

“Yes.”

I looked at the ground and reached up to wipe my nose on my jacket sleeve. “How badly?”

“Maeve, please”

“Maeve?”

I looked up as a figure stepped out of the garage, her face shadowed by the deck above her head. I took

one cautious step towards the gate, my hands trembling as I reached up to push it open.

“Ge-Gemma?”

Gemma reached along the wall on the side of the house and flipped the switch, flooding the driveway in

light. I almost passed out, my vision going blurry as I swayed, Dad catching me before my knees

buckled.

“Goddess, Maeve, are you alright?” Gemma came forward, patting a bundle of blankets against her

shoulder.

I gasped, thinking I was going to pass out a second time as I clung to my dad for support

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“I told you we have a lot to discuss,” Dad grunted as he put his arm around me, practically dragging me

through the gate as I gaped at Gemma.

Gemma smiled at me, her eyes shining with tears.

“You were pregnant?!” I cried over Dad’s shoulder as he took me

through the side door next to the garage that Gemma had come out of.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks as her mouth stretched into a desperate, disbelieving smile, nodding

her head as she followed us inside, her baby starting to fuss as she shifted the bundle in her arms.

“Is Troy with you?” she asked, her voice filled with longing.

“He’s wrestling with Rowan in the village,” I panted as Dad tried to coax me up the stairs.

He was growing frustrated and turned to Gemma, giving her a cold look.

“Maeve, I already told you once,”

“I can’t believe you’re here. All-all this time we thought,”I stammered.

“Ernest is here too, Maeve. We both got out. I have so much to tell you!”

“That’s enough, both of you!”

“Dad, just-”

I heard footsteps in the house above us as Dad guided me up the stairs, his hand pushing gently on my

lower back. I was already in shock, but it was amplified by the voices of Aunt Georgia and Aunt Vicky

chattering in the hallway, their voices lifted in surprise.

LU

Suddenly, I was surrounded by family, people that at several points during the past months I thought I

would never see again. I barely had time to catch my breath before Georgia had me out of my coat, and

Vicky was fussing over me, fluffing the snow from my hair with tears in her eyes as Georgia took my

hands, turning them over in her own as they inspected me fully.

“Does Rosalie know?” Gemma’s voice cut through the fray, and I turned my head toward her, catching a

glimpse of the infant resting in her arms. He was dressed in a soft blue onesie, his chubby fist stuffed into

his perfect mouth. I burst into tears.

“Leave her alone, everyone-Georgia, stop! She needs to go to bed—” Dad was struggling against the

crowd that was surrounding us, which had grown by three as my cousins had been roused from sleep,

their blonde curls lopsided and full of static.

“Ethan? What’s going on?”

Everyone stopped moving and the hallway was bathed in silence. Kat, my youngest cousin, tugged on

Vicky’s sleeve, rubbing her eyes as Vicky quietly scooped the young girl into her arms.

I walked between Dad and Georgia as though in slow motion, entering the main foyer and turning to look

up the staircase that led to the second floor. Mom was standing at the top of the stairs, leaning against

the railing for support.

“Is it really you?” she said, her voice trembling.

I opened my mouth to repły, choked from tears, just as Dad walked past me and began to walk up the

stairs.

“Rosalie, this has to wait-”

“Maeve? Are you really here?”

“I’m here, Mama.” I said, my voice shaking as I began to crumble.

The conversations had started up again the hallway outside the door to the stairway to the garage as

Rowan entered the house, tossing our bags into the foyer as he argued with Gemma and Troy, who were

fielding an onslaught of questions from Georgia and Vicky

I looked back up at Mom, shaking my head in disbelief.

“I’m home.”

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