Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder novel Chapter 625

Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 625

Chapter 125 : I’m Not a Ghost

*Lena*

I was home; how, I didn’t know. I’d simply opened my eyes and found myself lying on my back looking up at a star-flecked sky, turning my head to see the muted lights of Crimson Creek in the distance. Some of the grand estates dotting the horizon had lights glistening in their windows, and a sense of peace washed over me as I sat up, hugging my knees.

I was still dressed in the warrior garb I’d been wearing when I first passed through the portal. I knew the portal was no longer there; I couldn’t feel it. There was no longer an unearthly pull toward the sweeping hills outside of Crimson Creek. It was quiet, still, and peaceful.

Gideon’s house rose against the horizon as I made my way through the hills. Below me, Crimson Creek was awash in activity. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people moved between black tents, lanterns bobbing as they made their way through the dark. Armored trucks were stationed around the village, and I could see shadowed figures passing out boxes into waiting hands.

Our kind was helping the lower vampires who had escaped. They had nowhere else to go now. This was their home, as much as it was ours.

My chest tightened as I continued my slow walk to Gideon’s property. I didn’t know why I felt like I needed to go there first. It seemed like the right thing to do. I wanted to check in with my friends and find out what had happened in my absence, however long that had been.

I opened the rusted gate at the end of Gideon’s driveway and looked up at the house. Someone was sitting on the porch steps, their body casting a long shadow across the moonlit front yard. They looked up at me, and I saw a flash of copper as the figure stood, stepping into the light.

“Lena,” Oliver breathed in disbelief.

I gave him a weak smile, noticing the lines of grief and exhaustion lining his face as he walked forward. He looked as though he wasn’t sure I was actually there, his eyes wide and skeptical as he took me in.

“I’m not a ghost,” I said softly, my eyes leaving his to catch a flicker of movement behind the windows in the house, which were drenched in a pale amber glow. Several people were inside, and my heart leaped in my throat as I realized Xander might be one of them. “Is he here?”

“No,” Oliver replied. He knew exactly who I was talking about. His voice softened as he said, “He’s in Breles, recovering.”

“Is he alright?”

Oliver was only a few feet away from me now. He stopped walking, his face flushing with color as he reached out his hand and grazed my sleeve with his fingertips. He let out his breath in a whoosh and jumped back a step.

“I’m not a ghost,” I repeated, noticing the slight tremble that rippled over his body for a moment. He didn’t pull me into a hug like I thought he would. His skeptical expression didn’t change, not a bit. My heart squeezed as I looked into his eyes, noticing the usual fire was gone. “Are you alright?”

“Come inside,” he said without a hint of emotion. I exhaled deeply, clenching my fists at my sides as I opened my mouth to say his name and demand that he tell me what was wrong, but he turned away, heading back into the house without so much as a word.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t known what he’d done. I’d seen it in the shimmering altar, a vision of Oliver bringing down the portal. He’d done so without a glimmer of emotion in his eyes. Oliver, who’d been the epitome of sunshine, was nothing but a shell of himself now, and it broke my heart.

He wouldn’t be the only one left with scars. This was likely the most brutal war our kind had been through. Cities had been toppled; thousands were dead. I struggled to wrap my mind around the scope of the c*****e as I stepped into Gideon’s house and gazed upon the familiar faces staring right back at me.

Alma and Bethany were standing in the entrance to the kitchen, their faces smudged with flour. Bethany gave me a soft smile, her eyes glistening with tears. Alma looked stoic as always, a ghost of a smile touching her lips as she nodded in my direction.

Henry was seated in an armchair, sitting directly across from Ben, who was looking over his shoulder at me with a knowing smile on his face. Gideon’s brothers were next to the fireplace, their arms crossed over their chests.

Gideon reached out to take my hand and led me toward the staircase, nodding in a business-like fashion in a way of greeting.

“Dinner’s in a few minutes,” Bethany called out, but Gideon ignored her as he led me upstairs.

“Where are we going?” I asked, but before he could reply a man stepped out of one of the bedrooms and into the narrow hallway, his teeth bared–pointed teeth, a vampire.

“That’s enough, Lincoln,” Gideon said beneath his breath, coming to stop before the man. “She’s here to help.”

“I am?” I asked weakly, thoroughly confused.

Lincoln, tall and dark haired with a handsome if not menacing face glowered at me, then reluctantly stepped aside to allow me to cross the hallway into the bedroom he was guarding.

A soft cooing sound came from the bed, which was a tangle of sheets and quilts as my eyes moved from the foot of the bed to the young woman lying in it, her arms wrapped around a nursing infant. She had bright, pale gold hair that was braided loosely away from her face and shockingly green eyes that were fanned by dark lashes. Her cheeks were hollow, and scars ran up the length of her arms–bite marks, dozens of them.

I recognized her immediately, even though I’d never seen her in person. I didn’t think she was still alive.

“Carly,” I whispered, and some of the fear lining her features faded at the mention of her name. She swallowed weakly, glancing toward the doorway where the vampire male was now standing, watching our exchange with marked concern.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice cracking with fear. The baby in her arms made a noise, and she gathered it defensively to her chest, wincing in pain. She was… ill, perhaps, or hurt. The baby was still a pale pink from birth, which had been recent. I turned around slowly, meeting Gideon’s gaze.

“Who is the father of that baby?” I asked, unable to hide the heat in my voice. I knew lower vampires could breed with wolves. Xander had said as much when he told me about Henry being Bethany’s father. I glanced up at Lincoln, my eyes narrowing into slits.

“Don’t hurt him,” Carly choked, a whimper escaping her lips.