Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder novel Chapter 1014

Chapter 65 : Another Life

*Lucas*

Pacing around the living room, I maniacally checked my watch every five seconds.

What was happening? This was the longest Sasha had ever been gone and the panic set in.

Everything had gone horribly wrong….

Quinn was upstairs crying because I refused to talk to her. Her presence in this alternate world was not something I was concerned about. I didn’t even care about her feelings in my reality.

Of course, she’d made a big scene when I got home. It helped that I felt no emotional ties to her and could easily tell myself this wasn’t my life and this wasn’t real.

Unfortunately, that didn’t make her balling and wailing any less irritating as it grated on my ears.

She was so obnoxious that Brady and Phoebe made some excuse to go out together at 10:00 p.m. on a weeknight.

When I realized that Sasha wasn’t coming back, I reached out to a few resources that might help. It wasn’t much, but if they could give me anything to help sort this out, I could stop pacing a hole in my floor.

I heard a knock and I paused, glancing at the front door. Who would come by for a visit this late at night? I went to the door and snuck a look out the window beside the door. Two women stood on my porch. One was about my age, the other older with streaks of grey in her hair.

They looked harmless enough.

I pulled the door open. “Can I help you?”

“Lucas, you need to get to Sasha,” the older woman said.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Do I know you?”

“And you claim I’m the rude one,” the younger woman said, shaking her head. “My name is Jennie and this is my mother Rochel.”

I brightened. Sasha had told me about these two. They were powerful witches, good witches by Sasha’s account. She told me the older one, Rochel, was very perceptive and in sync with magical energies.

“Sasha told me about the two of you. Can you help me find her?”

Rochel sighed, and I noticed that she leaned against Jennie.

“Why don’t the two of you come in and sit down?” I stepped aside and motioned to the living room.

“Do you have any tea?” Rochel asked as they crossed my threshold.

“Uh….”

“Mom, let it go.” Jennie gave me an apologetic look as the two of them headed to the living room.

“Okay, what can you tell me about Sasha?” I sat across from the two witches and clasped my hands together.

“She’s not where she’s supposed to be,” Rochel said.

I creased my brow. “No offense, ma’am, but what the hell does that mean?”

“We met with Sasha a while back, and my mother got a really good read on her energy. She’s able to sense things about Sasha, even when she’s far away. And from what my mother says, she’s very, very far away.”

I leaned back in my chair. “I believe it,” I grumbled.

“You need to find her, Lucas, and set this right,” Rochel insisted.

“I don’t suppose you can tell me where she is that she’s not supposed to be?”

Rochel shook her head, gray whisps of hair drifting in front of her face. “I can’t see where she is. I just know it isn’t where she’s supposed to be.”

It wasn’t the most helpful information, but at least it confirmed that Sasha existed in this other world. It was a starting point.

“I’ll find her.”

***

*Sasha*

Wedding catalogs took up nearly the entire surface area of my kitchen table. I sipped my coffee and looked through one dedicated to flower arrangements.

I was getting close to narrowing down my dress, I’d picked out the place settings. Now, I just needed to settle on flowers.

Everyone had an opinion about what I should choose. Everyone… except the groom to be. Donavan was so resistant to helping me. All he ever did was tell me that I could do whatever I wanted.

He kept telling me that it was my day and it should be perfect for me.

Sighing, I stared at the flowers on the glossy magazine page.

I didn’t want it to be perfect for me. I wanted it to be perfect for us.

“Good morning, my love.” Donavan came into the kitchen after his morning run for smoothies and grabbed a fresh scone off the plate on the counter.

“Morning.” I peeked at him over the top of the magazine.

“So, have you decided on flower arrangements?” He handed me a smoothie and sat across from me at the table.

“I kind of like these and these.” I pointed to the two pages. “They’d have to be modified to match our color scheme, but I think they are beautiful. What do you think?”

Donavan polished off his scone and licked sugar crystals off his fingers.

“I think you should pick whichever one you want. They are both nice.”

“Right.” I sighed and closed the magazine. “This would go a lot faster if you helped me plan the wedding and if you showed some interest.”

“What do you mean?” Donavan frowned.

“I want this to be ‘our’ wedding, not ‘my’ wedding. You haven’t helped at all,” I explained, sipping the smoothie.

Donovan sighed. I noticed his eyes flick to the clock on the wall.

“Oh, shoot, I’m running late. We’ll talk about flower arrangements tonight, I promise.”

He hopped up, kissed me quickly on the cheek, and was out the door before I could say anything.

That’s how all these conversations ended. Donavan would make some excuse to run off, and I was left with the planning.

Sometimes, I wondered what it was I loved about him.

I finished my coffee and washed the dishes, still thinking about flower arrangements. Since I didn’t have to work that day, I decided to head to a nearby florist and see if I could make up my mind when looking at the flowers in person.

Donavan never came on these excursions with me. I brought Chelsea with me to the cake tasting and she was the one that helped me pick out a cake. Donavan had a scheduling conflict.

It didn’t even seem like he wanted to get married half the time.

I shook my head at myself. Of course, he wanted to get married. He was the one who proposed. I hadn’t been expecting it at all.

It was so romantic and surprising. There was no way I could resist that.

But since then, he seemed distant. It was like he thought now that I was “locked in,” he didn’t have to put in the effort anymore.

Despite how romantic and kind he’d been in the beginning, the reality was, I ate most of my dinners alone now, and I couldn’t remember the last time we spent real, quality time together that wasn’t late at night when we were both in bed.

Sighing, I slung my purse on my shoulder and headed down the sidewalk. The sun was out and it was a warm day. The perfect day to look at flower arrangements.

The flower shop was only a few blocks away. I walked through my neighborhood, smiling at neighbors and watching children play in their front yards.

A smile tugged at my lips and unconsciously, I touched my stomach.

“What?” I whispered to myself.

What was I even doing? Donovan and I weren’t thinking about kids yet. The reaction was automatic, almost like my body knew something my mind didn’t.

“No, no, you’re just going crazy, Sasha,” I muttered.

In the back of my mind, something stirred. Suddenly, I felt like this was all wrong.

This wasn’t my life.

I shook my head and forced those thoughts away. It was probably just cold feet in light of the upcoming wedding.

“What can I help you with today?” the woman at the flower shop asked.

“Well, I’m having trouble deciding on flower arrangements for my wedding.” I walked to the counter and pulled a folded sheet from my purse. “These are our color arrangements.”

“Oh, what a nice color palette. You have a good eye. Tell me, are you looking for something extravagant and over-the-top, or something a little simpler?”

I glanced around the shop. There were so many sample arrangements on the shelves.

“I’m hoping for something elegant. I don’t want it to be too flashy,” I explained.

The woman nodded and headed into the back. I heard her muttering to herself. When she returned, she had a large binder.

“These are all the flowers I either grow in the nursery or can get my hands on. Next to each species, there is a list of the colors available as well. Pictures of all the flowers are included. I think it is best we start with choosing the flowers you want before settling on an arrangement.”

She walked around the counter and brought the large binder to a picnic table in the shop. There were several plastic pots and shears scattered over the table. The woman pushed them aside and slammed the binder down.

“If you’d like, we can wait for your fiancé.”

I shook my head. “No. He won’t be joining us.”

“Oh.” she pursed her lips and opened the binder.

I could tell there was something she wanted to say.

“Is that a problem?”

I sat on the bench beside her and we started flipping through the flower options.

The woman gripped her pointed chin between a bony thumb and forefinger. Behind her spectacles, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“I’ve worked many weddings in the past. When a bride comes in without her groom… well, there are certain patterns that result from that kind of dynamic. Oh, these would be lovely in your color scheme.”

She quickly changed the subject, pointing to a flower I’d never seen before.

It wasn’t like she was wrong. The more Donovan resisted helping with the wedding, the more I wondered if I should even be marrying him.

It wasn’t just that. Ever since I’d woken up that morning, the feeling was getting stronger and stronger. I almost felt like there was someone else I was supposed to be looking for or spending my life with.

How silly was that?

Donovan and I had been together for years. There was no one else I wanted to be with, and no one else I had been with.

It took all afternoon, but I finally picked out my flowers. The woman at the shop told me she’d make several sample arrangements with those flowers and send me the pictures.

I felt much lighter and happier as I left the flower shop. It was a huge relief to have one more thing off my checklist.

I dug around in my purse as I walked, searching for my actual checklist. I pulled the little notebook out and checked off “flowers.” The list on my notepad was still long, but there were now more items with check marks than without.

“Progress,” I whispered.

As I tucked the notepad away, I flicked my eyes to the storefront window I stopped in front of.

My eyes immediately landed on an emerald pendant and I froze.

My heart jumped into my throat and I couldn’t pull my eyes away. I was completely mesmerized by the gemstone.

Absently, I put my hands on the shop window glass, pressing my forehead into it.

“Wow….”

I was completely transfixed, mesmerized by the deep green facets and the light refracting off the millions of gemstone eyes.