Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder novel Chapter 652

Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 652

CHAPTER 152 : MORE THAN I COULD HAVE IMAGINED

*Oliver*

Mirage, Five Years After Lena’s Wedding

Sunlight poured through the kitchen windows. All of Elaine’s flowers were in bloom. Early spring roses trembled against the glass in the soft breeze. From the windows, I could see Old Town rising out of the blinding sunlight reflecting in a shimmer against the moisture from last night’s thunderstorm. The kids had slept terribly, which meant I had also slept like absolute s**t.

Thankfully, Elaine was due home in a few hours. She’d spent the weekend away, enjoying some time with her twin sister at some spa near the port of Valoria while Abigail was visiting from Egoren. I’d been the one pushing for my wife to spend some time away, to take a break from the kids. I told her I could handle it, that everything would be fine.

I’d just lifted my coffee to my lips when a crash rang out from upstairs. I waited for a moment, my coffee barely touching my mouth as muffled voices drifted down the staircase. Then, a squirmish. Then, Lucy’s high-pitched screech of pure fury sent a tremor through the stone walls of the house.

“Isaac!” I called out, taking a quick sip of coffee as I stalked out of the kitchen and into the foyer. I nearly tripped over a pile of toys at the bottom of the stairs then gingerly made my way up the staircase while stepping over more discarded toys, construction paper, and a variety of children’s clothing.

Lucy continued to screech, her voice a high-pitched squeal of frustration as I finally reached the top of the staircase and struggled with the baby gate while my kids battled it out just out of sight. I beelined it for the back bedroom that Elaine and I had turned into a playroom. The door was slightly ajar, so I pushed it open, more toys blocking the door’s progress.

“Isaac, what–”

“Daddy, help!” Isaac, our four-year-old son, whimpered as Lucy tangled her tiny fingers in his shaggy blond hair, her legs crossed around his neck.

“Lucy!” I grumbled as I knelt and untwined her fingers from his hair.

I’d have sworn she hissed at me, baring her teeth as I tried to pry her loose from her angry grasp on her brother. Lucy was almost two and so far had proven to have a mean streak if provoked. She pointed and babbled something terse and incoherent at Isaac, who paled as he reached up to rub his head. “What’s going on up here?”

“Lucy took one of my trains, and I took it back,” he pouted, his lower lip trembling. “She bit me!” He held up his arm, where a red mark was puffed up against his suntanned skin. “So I pushed her, and then she knocked over my train set–”

Lucy cut in with more incoherent words of her own, her eyes narrowed on her brother. I sighed heavily, reaching out with one hand to run my hand through Isaac’s hair, Lucy perched on my other arm. “Everybody’s okay–”

“Mama!” Lucy cried, her fingers clutching my shirt.

Isaac looked up at me, his blue eyes misting with tears.

“She’s coming home today, okay? We’re gonna walk down to the train station to pick her up in a few hours… after lunch, and after your naps–”

“NO NAP!” Lucy screamed into my ear.

I winced, trying not to grind my teeth as I pressed her against my chest and gave Isaac a sympathetic look. A nap was exactly what she needed at the moment. I was sure it was hard being two, and even harder after spending a night woken repeatedly by a thunderstorm and without a mother’s touch to comfort her. I couldn’t blame her for her attitude. I also wanted her mama back.

Desperately.

“I was going to make a snack, maybe some popcorn. Do you want some?” I asked Isaac as I turned to walk out of the playroom.

Lucy’s eyes were already growing heavy as she laid her head against my shoulder, her glossy red ringlets tickling my jaw as she stuck her thumb in her mouth. Isaac perked up at the mention of his favorite snack and nodded his head enthusiastically, following me into Lucy’s bedroom. I laid her in her bed, and she surrendered, her arms splayed on the mattress and eyes open to only slits as I motioned for Isaac to back quietly out of the room.

I gathered all of the toys off the stairs on my way down, tossing them into the toy box in the front hallway. Isaac skipped ahead of me into the kitchen. He knew how to make popcorn. He was pretty independent now, which was an exciting change, but it also broke my heart. He was born exactly nine months after I had met my mate at Lena’s wedding.

I smiled to myself at the thought, shaking my head a bit as I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee. Elaine and I hadn’t waited to get to know each first at all, really. We’d gotten married only a few days after Lena’s wedding. We bought this house and spent over a year renovating it. Both Isaac and Lucy had been born in this house, and neither Elaine nor I had plans to move into something larger or more regal. It was home–the Alpha of Drogomor’s home.

Yeah, about that. Uncle Rowan had bestowed the title of Alpha of Drogomor onto me shortly after Lena departed for Egoren. The Drogomor pack was small and laid claim to the territory called Old Town on the outskirts of Mirage.

It hadn’t always been this way. I thought often of the days when my grandpa Ethan and great uncle Talon ruled as Alpha and Beta… how different things were then, for everyone. How much harder things were for them than they were for us.

I attended pack meetings every week, conferred with the neighboring territories, and saw to the welfare of my pack on a daily basis, Elaine by my side as my Luna through all of it. But I still had the time to walk Isaac to school, to take the kids to the park in the evenings, and to spend my nights cuddled in bed with my wife. I hadn’t had to face off with another Alpha, or wage war–at least not yet.

Maybe not ever.

I never pictured myself as an Alpha, but maybe my notion of Alphas was skewed because of my privileged upbringing. Drogomor was humble and cozy, and the house of its Alpha had creaky pipes and a washing machine that sounded like it was trying to up and walk out the door every time I ran a load of blankets. The walls weren’t dripping in gold and finery, or cloaked in dismal dark and secrets.

My pack… my home. It was peaceful. I was at peace.

Finally.