The Alpha King's Breeder의 모든 챕터: 챕터 671 - 챕터 680

MaeveI’m not sure what time it is now, but it’s full dark, and the rain is relentless. I smooth my hand over Soren’s chest while he lays on his back beside me, his eyes open but hazy while he stares at the ceiling. I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk after this. I’m not sure I even want to try. I feel… an overwhelming sense of possession at the moment, especially after the last… three hours or so. We hadn’t stopped after the first time. He took me again, rolling me over onto my belly and ravaging me from behind until I was screaming his name. And again, but with me kneeling, his cock sliding down my throat while he tangled his fingers in my hair. Then… again, just now, but softer, slower, our bodies spent but unable to stay away from each other. He licked between my legs until I shimmered with light–actual light–my powers finally thawing, and I’d spread my legs again and let him bury himself between them, both of us coming undone at the same time, locked together, tangled in an old,

MaeveI chew my lower lip as Soren’s eyes scan mine. He turns away, pacing to the far side of the room, and leans against the wall. “I told her to get fucked, but a few days later, while I rotted in a holding cell deep beneath her lair, she’d sent her people to fetch Patton from Moonrise. She used him against me, threatening to kill him if I didn’t do her bidding. She put my brother's debt on my shoulders–a sum no one should have ever been able to pay off. I knew she’d kill Patton without hesitation so I… I gave in. I’d been trapped for several weeks at that point. Patton told me my trainers and comrades in the Ghosts thought I’d just walked out, changed my mind, and they moved on like I’d never existed. I started to think Tom was right. There wasn’t a place in the world for people like us, so I leaned in. I started as a thief, a pickpocket. I was good at it, kept getting better at it, all while she held Patton over my head. When I started doing bigger gigs on my own, outside of her

SorenSometimes I feel like I’m still standing on the train, gripping the railing while I just… look at her, memorizing every painful, beautiful, devastating detail. The way the wind whipped her hair into a frenzy as the train caught speed. The way her sea-glass eyes shone with tears. The way her fingers clutched my shirt, wrinkling the fabric. The salt on her lips–tears–that I swiped away with my tongue. Her scent. Her warmth. Her voice, for fuck’s sake. Then I wake up, reminded how far away she is, and the incredible distance between us that has nothing to do with miles.Pale early morning sunlight drifts through the window directly behind me, casting rays of dusty sunbeams skittering across the freshly swept floor. Beyond the rusting metal window frame, a patch of sparse trees bow in the wind, and beyond that, the Deadlands stretch for miles of rolling nothingness. This place, my safe house, is situated right on the border between the Roguelands and the Deadlands, tucked just be

MaeveMoonrise roars as I wait in the shadowed foyer of the temple. Just feet away, a heavy set of doors will soon open to the sanctuary of the sacred place where hundreds of people are gathered to bear witness to my ascension to the throne, while a few steps in the other direction, behind yet another set of doors, the city is buzzing with nervous excitement. I’m alone for the first time since I opened my eyes this morning. My reflection in a mirror on the far wall of the foyer isn’t… me. The tall, lean young woman in an immaculate crimson gown stares blankly back at me, her eyelids dusted with gold and her wide, full lips painted a deep, dark red. Her eyes are hard and hollow–dead–but still that familiar sea-green. I reach up to run my fingers over the simple updo a trio of maids spent over an hour creating. My hair is pulled tight against my scalp and twisted into a neat bun on the top of my head, not a hair out of place. A band of brilliant rubies and flawless black diamonds res

MaeveIt’s the middle of the night when I finally slide into my private apartment. Boxes of my things are stacked precariously around the foyer, all labeled to be delivered to specific rooms in the massive royal suite that takes up an entire floor two stories above me. My head pounds from wearing the crown and all the jewels that dangled from my forehead for hours even though I undressed immediately after coming off the balcony. That was hours ago.Now, I’m wearing the white ceremonial gown from when I blessed the couple performing the Rite and a dark navy blue cloak. It smells like the smoke that drifted off the lake where dozens of bonfires were burning. After the Rite, I was escorted back to the castle where a party for my grandparents was being held. It had a very select guest list, but party goers still filled the formal ballroom, and even now, in the dead of night, I can still hear the music drifting through the castle. I assume everyone else is asleep by now. It’s been the lo