Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder novel Chapter 678

Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 678

Chapter 25 : You’re Descended from Witches

Mila’s door cracked as I pulled the lock right off in my haste to open it.

She was sitting on the floor, staring off into space, completely still like a statue.

A chair was flipped over and glass was shattered all over the table and floor. Water dripped off the edges of the table. Some of the drops hit her legs and she didn’t even react.

What the hell had happened?

Quickly, I assessed Mila. She didn’t appear to be injured. I couldn’t smell blood and none of her bones were broken. She just sat there, staring off into space, perfectly still.

Was she in shock?

I swooped down and grabbed her shoulders.

“Mila, are you okay, what happened?” I asked.

She didn’t move or react. Her eyes stayed distant and I noticed how pale she was. I shook her a little harder.

“Mila!”

Her head wobbled back and forth but she still didn’t say anything or move. I couldn’t even tell if she was breathing.

She was completely in shock, her hands balled into fists in her lap.

I raised a hand and gently patted her cheek.

“Mila, what happened?”

She blinked and her eyes snapped to me like she was seeing me for the first time. There was no expression there. She was blank, in shock.

“Soren?” she asked.

“Yes. It’s me. Are you okay, what happened here?” I asked. I nodded toward the mess on the table and the chair.

Slowly, Mila lifted her hands. She turned them up and uncurled her fingers. In her right palm, she had a fistful of ash. It wasn’t light and feathery like ashes pulled from a fire pit. They were densely packed together.

Maybe that was because she’d held them so tightly in her hand but I’d never seen ashes like that.

“What is it?” I asked.

Mila blinked at me. She glanced at her hand and then pulled away. Quickly she jumped to her feet and tossed the ashes on the floor. She clapped her hands together and wiped away the residue.

“It’s nothing,” she said, backing away from me more.

The ashes were collected in a small pile on the ground. It was unusual behavior for ashes. They might float away or scatter but not drop into a pile like grains of sand.

“Mila…”

“I said it was nothing,” she insisted.

When I glanced at her again she still looked dazed and confused. But she’d recovered from her shock enough to lie to me again.

I looked over the table and realized the shattered glass was from the vase she’d put the flowers in. Water on the table had come from the vase. The only thing missing was the flowers.

I looked at the little lump of ash again. The flowers were burned to ash and the vase had been smashed or maybe exploded based on how scattered the shards were.

“What did you do?” I demanded, pointing to the ashes.

“Hmph.”

Mila crossed her arms and turned on her heel. She disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. Quickly, she righted the toppled chair and then started wiping up the water and collecting the shards of glass.

I noticed how she carefully stepped around the ashes, like she was afraid to touch them again.

She knew exactly what had happened.

I stood by and waited for her to respond, to say something. She kept cleaning up the mess as if I wasn’t even there.

Suddenly, she hissed.

“What is it?” I asked, moving to her side.

Mila had dropped the towel on the table. She had her palms pressed together and I saw blood mixed in with what was left of the water. Crimson dripped to the floor, thinned out from the water.

Small rivulets of blood ran down her palm and wrist and her face got even paler. She gritted her teeth and I could tell she was still in a fair amount of pain.

“Let me see,” I said, holding out my hand.

Mila shook her head. “I can take care of myself.”

Ignoring her refusal, I grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands apart. There was a long gash across her palm and I could see a sliver of glass deeply embedded in the cut.

I sighed. “We’ve gotta get that glass out or the bleeding won’t stop.”

Gently, I tugged Mila into the bathroom. I found a first aid kit in the medicine cabinet and tapped the sink vanity.

“Sit up here,” I ordered.

Mila arched an eyebrow at me but she didn’t resist my request. She hopped up on the sink vanity and held her hand out to me.

I dug a pair of tweezers out of the first aid kit. “This is going to hurt.”

“I can handle it,” she assured.