Chapter 37: Awake
Chapter 37: Awake
Myla
Vanilla, but not the essence Mom used when she baked those chocolate chip cookies I liked. It was sharp, fresh, like the long strings of vanilla beans sometimes sold in the market. I sniffed. There was something else with it, floral, like the heavy scent of the magnolia trees when they were full of mature blooms that had been soaked with rain.
I blinked into the yellow light, sniffing deeply again, then went rigid as I realized what was happening.
I felt electric, my chest tightening with sudden anticipation. This was it. This is what I had been waiting for; it had to be! My mate was near. Very near
But where the hell was I? My head ached painfully, the skin on the back of my neck tight as I tried to move my head to the side, my vision blurred. I was not at home. The floor beneath the bed where I laid was pitching back and forth in slow, rolling motion. But that smell was dominating all of my senses at once.
Where was he? Nearby, for certain.
I reached up to rub sleep from my eyes, groaning softly as my arms ached and tingled from lack of use. Blinking into the light again, I saw a wiry old man, his face drawn in deep concern and heavily lined with age..
“Oh,” I said quietly, only slightly disappointed. I would love him regardless, right? He was my mate, after all. Everyone said the Moon Goddess worked in mysterious ways.
“Cleo, she’s awake! Look!” A deep, honeyed male voice rang out in the stuffy room. I turned my head, seeing my mom step forward with a wide, grateful smile stretched across her face and tears rolling down her lashes.
“Mom?”
“I’m here, sweetheart. Oh, thank you, Goddess!”
“What-”
Suddenly, my vision was filled with gold. I blinked again, surprised, pushing my head back against the pillow to get a better angle of whatever, whoever, was blocking my field of sight.
“Nice to finally meet you, darlin’,” he said, his golden-green eyes sparkling with pleasure. His golden hair was falling around his face, which was deeply tanned, and his wide mouth was stretched into a beautiful smile, showcasing his straight, white teeth. He was gorgeous, the most delicious thing I had ever seen. And he smelled good, like really REALLY good.
Then he touched me, his fingers gently running down the length of my forearm. Electricity. Fire. Pure, unaltered desire.
Oh, take that Natasha Blaine, I thought with mirth. She had found her mate at the last social while I had gone home empty-handed and desperately hungover. Natasha’s mate was balding and had smelled strongly of ale and onions when she showed him off during the market, stopping at my booth to gloat.
But mine?
“Holy
shit…” I breathed, looking up at him.
“Myla!” Mom hissed, her voice twisted in shock and embarrassment. But I only had eyes for the beautiful man hovering over me, his eyes alight with something I could only describe as joy.
Take that, Natasha!I thought, my mind going over how I was going to tell her, how I was going to flaunt my perfect, divinely beautiful match.
But then reality came crashing down around me, the pitch of the room and the dull ache on the back of my head suddenly became too much. I felt a little sick, wondering why all of these people were in my room.
My gaze lingered on the golden man for a second longer before I broke away, turning to the side to see the wiry old man, whose own eyes had narrowed as he tilted his head, looking over my expression.
“Alright, we need to give her some space now-” he said, but his voice was drowned out by the scream that erupted from my throat as frantically began to look around at the small, windowless room.
“Where-where–”
“Myla, honey, it’s alright. You’re okay!” Mom was clutching my hands together, stopping me from flailing as I turned my head from side to side. The golden man had my legs and was holding me down against the bed, his face etched with concern.
15:28 D
Chapter 37: Awake
“Don’t give her that!” he snapped, his teeth bared as the old man appeared at my side with a syringe, the needle gleaming the light of a single oil lantern swinging over our heads. The old man backed away; his brow knitted in frustration.
“Myla, listen to me- Mom began, her eyes round and full of tears, “you’ve been asleep for a few days honey. You’re safe. Do you remember anything?”
“Remember-remember what?”
“Keaton, honey, can you go get Maeve? Please?” Mom let my hands fall and sat on the side of the bed, reaching out to take my cheek in her hand.
.
“Aye, I will. Don’t give her any meds. Not unless I’m here,” Keaton stole a steely glance at the old man before turning away and sprinting out of the room, the door swinging as the room rolled from side to side.
“I’m going to be sick!” I cried as I sat up straight, my vision blurring as Mom held my face between her hands.
“Breathe, sweetheart. That’s it. In through your nose.”
It smelled like salt. The room was clammy and cold. Hooked around, watching as the old man stood in the corner, taking apart the syringe on a small counter.
“Where are we? The room’s moving,”
“We’re on a boat, Myla. But it’s okay,”
“My head hurts really bad!”
“I know it does. I know. What do you remember? What is your last memory?”
I closed my eyes, swallowing against the bile threatening to rise in my throat. What did I remember?
Heat. I remembered heat. I woke up and kicked the covers down with my feet and then I couldn’t breathe.
“The house?” I asked, looking up at Mom as she stroked my hair away from my face. “There was a fire. I was in bed… -I don’t remember leaving, but you were there and telling me we had to get out.”
“Yes, you’re right. That’s exactly what happened”
“Then we were on the street and…”
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder
Yeah sorry full of crap clichés skipping chapters...
Really oh fn....off another weak heroine roll, her pack hated her, she was abused, why would she do this .... pfghhj off at another cliche novel. .... Nope...