Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 26 : I’m Not a Witch

*Mila*

Soren's accusation rang in my head like a gong.

He took a few steps toward me, arms outstretched like he was going to hug me.

“No!" I snapped. I pushed him away and ran around the bed so he couldn't get close to me again.

My mind raced with thoughts and images from my childhood. I grabbed the sides of my head and shook my head

slowly.

“No. I'm not a witch, okay? I'm not," I insisted, my voice calmer but no less insistent.

It was crazy for him to think that. Magic wasn't part of my life. I mean… sometimes things just happened, but that

wasn't magic. It was just… divine intervention.

“I'm not a witch. I can't be a witch," I repeated to myself over and over again.

“Mila…"

Soren's voice was soft and low.

I snapped my eyes to him and glared at him. I didn't want him to come any closer to me.

So many memories surfaced, memories that I could hardly imagine. Were they repressed memories? Had I blocked

them out?

One memory surfaced over all the others.

Before I'd left the Saboreef pack, I had found a rat in a rat trap. I hated when my foster mother set those!

Thinking the rat might still be alive, I took it out of the trap. It was dead. Or… I thought it was. I cried because the

rats weren't bad. They always ate the tainted and rotten food, which meant our rations were better.

While I cried over the rat, I remembered praying to the Moon Goddess that its soul be honored and find peace.

When I touched his little body, the rat jumped up, squeaked, and sat up, cleaning its whiskers.

But it had been dead!

Had I resurrected the rat with some unknown power?

At the time, I just thought I'd made a mistake and it wasn't dead. But I had always wondered if something else had

happened.

Could I believe my own memories?

I laughed bitterly and shook my head.

“I can't be a witch. It isn't possible," I insisted in a soft murmur.

Lost in thought, I hadn't noticed Soren come around the bed. He reached for me and at his touch, I fell into his

arms. He cradled me against his chest and my heart fluttered.

Pain and fear gripped my chest and my stomach. It coiled in me like a poisonous snake.

What did it mean if I couldn't trust my own memory?

“It's okay, Mila," Soren cooed. He ran his fingers through my hair and pressed a warm, soft kiss on my temple.

I sighed and leaned against him.

“Don't listen to me. I know you're not a witch," he said in a gentle murmur.

My mind settled slightly and I closed my eyes. I clung to his shirt like it was my only lifeline and I breathed in his

delicious scent. The scent of cedar and amber in the rain. Every muscle in my body relaxed, except for my fingers

as I held onto him.

“What… what if…"

“What if…? Mila, what are you thinking?" Soren asked kindly. He kissed my temple again.

The reoccurring dream I had about Helen surfaced again. She'd used a spell in my dream. I didn't know the words

but I knew it was magic.

How did I know that?

I didn't know anything about magic! Did I?

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If Helen was appearing to me in dreams and whispering incantations, did that mean she was a witch?

“Helen, is she a witch?" I asked, breathing heavily.

“I don't know," Soren admitted.

I'd never told anyone about those dreams before. I never had anyone to tell and I'd always thought it was just a

fantasy of my own creation.

I knew the dreams were real now.

“She came to me in dreams, ever since I was a girl," I blurted out. “And she used a spell on me. She… she asked

me to come find her. If she can get in my dreams, she could be a witch."

“She didn't use a spell on you, Mila. It was just a dream," Soren said soothingly.

I nodded against him.

“But… she led me here through dreams," I argued.

“I don't believe that. You're here because some hidden knowledge inside of you brought you here," he told me.

I wanted to believe him, but I couldn't. “If she is a witch… does that mean… I am?"

I could barely say the words and as soon as they were out of my mouth I shivered and trembled.

Soren tightened his arms around me and squeezed me against him. I felt his heartbeat against my cheek and I

wanted to stay protected in his arms forever. It was the only safe place for me in the entire world.

No matter where I went, he was the only one that ever saved me.

“Mila, I'm sorry I said that. You would know better than me if you're a witch," he said. He rubbed my back gently.

“I don't know… I…"

There were other memories pressing at the back of my mind. I didn't want to remember them but I did at the same

time. I felt like I had to know the truth.

“What do you mean?" Soren asked.

“What do I mean?" I repeated his question.

I felt like a fog lifted from my mind and all these memories from my childhood flooded in. Details I'd pushed so far

down that I hadn't thought of them in years.

Groaning, I buried my face in Soren's chest and I shook my head. Tears sprang to my eyes but I refused to let them

fall.

“Mila, talk to me," Soren coaxed.

I shook my head again. “No," I whispered.

“Why?" he asked.

I kept shaking my head, kept my face buried in his shirt. I couldn't look at him. I couldn't pull away from him.

“I… my parents I never knew them. But my foster mother, she was horrible. She always used me. And I had to get

away…"

“You're not making any sense," Soren said.

“And no one ever liked me… they kicked me and spit on me. But I never did anything to them!"

“Mila!"

Soren leaned back and put his hands on my shoulders. He stared deeply into my eyes.

“You're babbling and I can't understand you. I need you to slow down and tell me what is going on in your head.

Clearly, not like a child learning to talk," he said firmly.

“O-okay," I whispered.

He guided me to the chair and pushed me down. Once I was sitting, I didn't feel as shaky. I rubbed my hands on my

thighs and took a deep, centering breath.

As much as I wanted Soren to wrap his arms around me again and hold me close, I needed to regain myself.

“I'm sorry. I totally lost it," I said, touching my forehead.

“It's okay, Mila. We all have our moments." He rested his hands on my knees.

“As you know, I was orphaned, and my foster mother…" I sighed and pressed my hand to my forehead. “She was

nothing but a murderer and she used me to make it happen!"

I glanced at Soren. He watched me with steady eyes, completely open and receptive to what I had to say. My

reservations melted completely away and I sighed, my shoulders sagging.

“My foster mother wasn't rich. I never understood why she took me in because she couldn't afford a child. But

every now and then, she'd dress me up nicely, do my hair, and leave me all alone in populated areas. My

instructions were simple, if anyone paid me special attention, I had to bring them home," I explained.

I twisted my hands in my lap, ringing them like I could go back in time and stop the little girl I used to be from

helping her.

“Every now and then, someone would pay me special attention. They'd be concerned that I was a young girl all

alone. Many of them tried to get me to go with them with promises of food and comfort. It was tempting… but

instead, I always brought them to my foster mother," I said.

My throat tightened and I squinted my eyes shut.

“They were 'guests' of ours. That's what my foster mother said. They'd stay for a day or two and then disappear.

They never said goodbye and my foster mother told me it was because I'd done things to upset them and I'd have

to do better next time.".

Soren remained quiet, listening attentively and patiently. I'd never told anyone this and my heart fluttered away. I'd

never had anyone pay so much attention to me.

“It always seemed like after the guests left, suddenly, my foster mother had money. As I got older, I hoped she was

just robbing them. It was worse than that… much worse. One night, I was woken up by the sounds of fighting. I

crept downstairs and saw my foster mother fighting one of our 'guests.' He said some strange words and caused an

explosion, but he was overtaken…"

Still, Soren didn't speak, but he squeezed my knee and nodded encouragingly at me.

“I ran off before the fight ended but… I never saw that person again…"

I looked into Soren's eyes and sighed. Reflected in his bright, shining orbs, a new memory surfaced and dragged me

under. I felt like I was being tossed around in a violent storm as I watched the memory unfold.

I was curled in a ball on the floor, crying. I couldn't even tell how old I was. Wearing a pure white dress that was

stained with blood and a rusty colored substance. I hugged myself and wept.

My foster mother stood over me, a cruel, twisted smile on her lips. The gap in her teeth was like a doorway to hell.

She leered at me, her eyes bright and wild.

Laughing, her entire body jiggled and she raised a knife in the air. It was made of silver, both the blade and the hilt.

There were designs on the knife hilt but with tear-blurred eyes, I couldn't see what they were.

The blade was dripping blood and that's when I remember the rusty stains on my dress were blood, too. I wanted to

shout and scream but all I could do was cry.

I wasn't hurt. It wasn't my blood on the knife, but the pain inside of me was so strong and so terrible I felt like my

entire body would break in two.

With the knife, my foster mother had made something horrible happen. Something, I'd blocked out of my mind for

years.

She stopped laughing and leaned over me. Her oversized breasts nearly spilled out of her too tight bodice. She kept

smiling that cruel, twisted smile.

As she leaned closer, I smelled blood but I also smelled the stink of her body odor, sweat, and alcohol.

“Thank you, my child. This wouldn't be possible without you," she said, barking a laugh.

I held myself in the fetal position and rocked back and forth on the ground. This couldn't be happening. It was a

nightmare, one I couldn't wake up from.

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My foster mother laughed again.

“Yes, it is all thanks to you and your beautiful, lovely, innocent smile," she said.

The memory faded quickly and I covered my mouth. For as long as I could remember, I hated being beautiful. I

thought it meant people like Alpha Chandler would use me and take what they wanted from me.

Was it that memory with my foster mother that had caused me to hate my beauty?

When I got older, I realized she was a bounty hunter," I finished.

“You mean, she was hunting witches?" Soren clarified.

“By the time I realized what she was doing, it was too late. I just thought… She was inviting them over as dinner

guests. Or maybe she was a thief and stole from them… but there was a high bounty for witches and she always

had money after they disappeared," I said.

I shook my head and hugged myself. Tears sprang to my eyes and I sniffled.

“S-so, I c-can't be a w-witch. It i-is my f-fault so m-many of them w-were k-killed," I sobbed. “I-I can't b-be one wh-

who… who caused th-their e-extinction. It's n-not p-possible."

My hands shook and I tried to blink my tears back but they flowed freely.

“I can't be one if I d-did all that!" I cried.

“Okay, I hear you," Soren said softly.

“You can't understand!" I snapped, brushing his hand from my leg.

“I didn't say that I understood. I said that I heard you," he clarified smoothly.

“... Okay…"

I stared at him for a long moment and Soren stared back. I kept waiting for him to say something comforting or

touch me again. I expected him to tell me it wasn't my fault or that I was too young to know better. But he

remained silent.

Sniffling, I wiped my tears away and still, he said nothing.

I must have been crazy to tell him about my past! Was I seriously looking for sympathy from him? Was he even

capable of sympathy? Why would a man like him have any sympathy for me?

To Soren, I was just his latest plaything. A toy.

Why did I even want him to comfort me? That was ridiculous!

I lifted my chin and wiped the rest of my tears away. “I'm sorry for my useless sentiment. I'm better now. You can

leave."

Soren arched an eyebrow but he didn't leave. He held my gaze intensely.

“Running away from your past and who you are won't make you feel better. You can't change the past but you can

change the future," he said.

I cleared my throat. “Maybe you should follow your own advice. I know you're running from something."

“Maybe so, but I still changed my future. I'm changing mine every day. What are you doing for yours?" he asked

pointedly.

I opened my mouth and quickly clamped it shut. Soren was right. I'd been running from my past and from myself. I

didn't even know who I was anymore. I kept telling myself that I was running to a future of peace and happiness but

had I made any progress?

No, because I still hadn't started changing my future. I was just running from my past.

Suddenly, I sat up straighter and nodded to myself.

He didn't comfort me with superficial words or shallow sentiments. He didn't give me a useless, warm touch that

would only affirm my fears and self-anger.

Soren said exactly what I needed to hear. It gave me direction, hope, and snapped me out of my self-pity.

For the first time in my life, I acknowledged my witch bloodline and I didn't feel ashamed or horrified by it.

Soren's voice cut into my thoughts.

“So, Helen was one of the witches you met when you were young?" he asked.