Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder
Chapter 537 - 40 : I’ll Tell Her Everything

Chapter 537: Chapter 40 : I’ll Tell Her Everything

*Lena*

Tomorrow. He’d come pick me up from my apartment tomorrow.

That was all I could think about as I paced around the small bedroom I’d shared with Heather for the last three years. Heather was out, where I didn’t know, but I found myself alone and on edge.

I’d already unpacked my duffle bag and backpack. I’d taken a shower and ran a load of laundry. I had nothing else to do for the remainder of the day but wallow in my anxieties and suspicions about what Xander needed to talk to me about.

It obviously wasn’t urgent. He would have pulled me aside during the luncheon or caught up to me afterward if he had news about Elaine and Henry. It was obvious the students who attended Morhan were totally in the dark about what had happened in Crimson Creek, which was a good thing, but still....

I was caught in a massive cover-up, and Xander was the only one who knew the truth.

I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, hugging myself with my arms.

Maybe he wanted to talk about us.

I let out my breath, shaking my head. What could possibly be said at this point? We were done. We weren’t anything to begin with. It wasn’t like I’d been his girlfriend.

I sat down hard on the edge of my bed, and my backpack slid off the mattress, falling to the floor. The envelope George had given me peeked out of the front pocket, the thick cardstock flaked with gold and reflecting in the dusty sunrays pouring through the windows.

The clouds had opened enough to reveal a beautiful sunset, which sent rays of pink and amber light cascading into the room. I reached for the envelope and slid my finger through the wax seal binding the envelope together. There were two things inside. One, I expected, and tossed onto my bed without a fraction of a glance.

The second item in the envelope was just a piece of scratch paper with an untidy scrawl littering the page. I held it to the light, reading each and every word before I let it fall to the floor.

A familiar pain radiated through me as I stood and pulled on a hooded sweatshirt. The letter had brought back an anguish I’d shared with who I considered my best friend and closest confidant. I’d been there when it happened. I’ll never forget the look on his face.

He’d loved her since they were just kids, and the two of them had grown up together, attending the same schools and running in the same social circles. He’d thought, with every fiber of his being, that she was his mate. They both looked forward to the day she turned twenty-one, only a few days after his own birthday.

But it wasn’t him. They weren’t fated. Her mate had been, in fact, his brother.

She’d chosen his brother over him. It shattered his heart beyond repair.

I sighed as I sank down on the bed, looking down at the letter that had fallen onto the floor between my feet. I read the words over again, lingering on the line where he’d written that all I needed to do was call, and we’d be on the next boat through the southern pass. We could skip the wedding neither of us wanted to attend. He just didn’t want to do it alone.

The sun had almost fully set as I left my bedroom and pulled on my coat and a weathered beanie over my tousled locks. My pale blonde lowlights had grown out, revealing the silvery white hair that grew stick-straight, not a single curl in sight.

No one had said anything about it. It was probably because striking, platinum-blonde hair was in style right now, and people paid a king’s ransom to accomplish it.

But no one had my pale silver eyes and moon-kissed eyelashes, nor my silver-white eyebrows and porcelain, unblemished skin.

I was odd, foreign. But I’d made it work. My years-long lies and excuses wouldn’t matter much soon. It was all coming to an end.

I walked the short distance from my apartment to the pay phone in front of the laundry mat around the corner. Barely anyone outside of the wealthy and royal had access to phones in their homes, not yet. The radio towers that had been constructed two decades ago made it possible for communication between the continents outside of letters, but it was a slow progression.

I barely ever called home. I liked to write and receive letters. But there wasn’t much time for that now.

I put a few coins into the payphone and held the receiver to my ear, listening to the static for a moment before I was connected with the operator.

“How can I connect you?” she said, her voice quick and businesslike.

“Avondale,” I replied, and a clicking sound filled my ears as the operator connected me to the next hub.

“How can I connect you?” came a new, male voice.

I sighed before closing my hand around the receiver and whispering into it. “The Palace of Poldesse, please.”

A soft chuckle flickered through the static.

“Good luck even reaching security–”

“Not security,” I whispered as a man passed behind me on the sidewalk. “I have a code for a direct line.”

“What is it?”

I took a shallow breath and closed my eyes.

“1701... S.”

“One moment.”

The clicking resumed, then ringing filled my ears as I was transferred. A few moments passed and I almost hung up, but then a deep, friendly, and familiar voice filled my ears.

“Lena?”

“I’m sorry to call so late,” I began, closing my eyes. I felt tears beginning to well in the corners of my eyes as his soft laugh fluttered through the receiver. I heard a feminine voice somewhere behind him, raised in question as she neared.

“It’s Lena,” he said to his companion, and a shocked exclamation mingled with whatever reassurance he uttered in reply. “Is everything alright? You never call!”

“I’m fine, really. I–”

“Give me the phone!” came the female voice, and there was a bit of skirmish on the other line. I smiled broadly, my heart squeezing in my chest as my uncle fought off my aunt’s attempts to secure the phone for herself.

“Uncle Troy?” I said after a moment.

He panted in response, chuckling as though he was holding my aunt at arm’s length as he lifted the receiver to his mouth once again.

“What’s up, kid?”

“I’m looking for Oliver,” I breathed. “Is he home?”

***

*Xander*

Adrian was sitting on the couch in our shabby apartment, his legs crossed and his arms stretched over the back of the sofa. He was watching me as I unpacked the belongings I’d taken with me to Crimson Creek. I glanced up at him as I turned my duffle bag upside down and shook the remaining contents onto the carpet.

“What?” I murmured, reaching for a pair of socks that had rolled beneath the coffee table.

“Well, what now? Are we going back?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, sighing as I started to organize the small items that I’d just dislodged from the depths of my duffle bag.

“Well, she didn’t seem all that enthused about you at the luncheon,” Adrian said, giving me a tight lipped smile.

I glared at him, then rose from the carpet and walked into the tight kitchen that opened up to our living room.

Adrian. I’d known him since I was a kid. He was arrogant and sarcastic, but loyal, the kind of guy who didn’t shy away from a fight. This fight, however, was starting to wear on the both of us. It’d been a year at least since we’d been home. He was just as ready to return as I was.

He’d made himself at home here during the month I was in Crimson Creek. He had his positive qualities, but cleanliness was not one of them. I swiped a few beer cans off the counter and into the trash can, scowling at him over my shoulder as he smirked, tapping his foot as he waited for me to make some remark about what he’d been up to.

“So, are you planning on taking that girl home, or is she just a fling?” I asked as I pulled a bag of cheap, pre-ground coffee from the cabinet.

Adrian sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t broached the subject.” He shrugged, tilting his head as he watched me start the coffee maker. “That wasn’t really the plan, after all. You’re the one who’s supposed to be bringing home a wife.”

I closed my eyes, thankful my back was to him so he couldn’t see the pained expression creeping over my face.

I’d returned to our apartment in the early morning, before the sun had even begun to rise over the tall brick buildings in downtown Morhan. Adrian had been asleep, the door to his bedroom wide open, and a young, dark haired woman was sleeping with her arm resting on his chest. I’d woken her up as I entered the house, and she was shocked, and deeply embarrassed, that I had even glanced into his room as I made my way to my own.

But she’d left behind a tube of lipstick and a few hairpins in our bathroom. And the expensive tea in the pantry definitely wasn’t Adrian’s. I turned to look at him, leaning on the kitchen counter as the coffee began to brew, the sound of the water heating and hissing steam filling the space between us.

Adrian’s blue eyes narrowed on mine for a moment before he rolled them.

“She’s probably not my mate. Too young to know for sure, you know. What about your, uh, Lena situation? No go, then?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject away from his lover.

“I don’t know. I’m telling her everything tomorrow,” I said curtly, watching him run his fingers through his golden blond hair once again.

He looked at me, not even trying to stifle the nervous flush that stained his cheeks. “Are you sure you want to do that? Why not just stick to the plan–”

“It’s complicated now–”

“Ah,” he nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching as he adjusted his weight on the couch. “You fell for her, didn’t you?”

I didn’t answer. My silence was enough. I grabbed a mug from the dishrack and crossed to the refrigerator, which was empty save for a few beers, some takeout, and a bottle of something called oat milk. I held the bottle up, then turned to Adrian, arching my brow.

“Macie likes it. Says it’s better for you than milk.”

“So she has a name, and her own creamer, in our refrigerator–”

“It’s more than what you have with Lena,” he bristled, and I set the creamer down on the counter and shot him a dirty look.

I’d told him everything when he’d finally woken from the dead and rolled out of bed, nursing a righteous hangover and covered in glitter and smudges of lipstick. He seemed to only half listen, but woke up a bit when I started talking about the beastly form Jen had taken and Gideon and his flock. I hadn’t talked to him about Lena though, not in detail. I’d just given him enough information to allude to the fact that I had failed.

“There’s gotta be more of them, right? Soren’s family?”

“It’s not that simple,” I murmured, sniffing the oat milk creamer before shrugging and pouring a hefty amount of the strange, straw colored liquid into my mug. Why the hell would anyone want to drink milk made of oats? Oat juice, more like it–

“Xander?”

“What, Adrian?” I breathed.

He shook his head, laying his head against the back of the sofa and closing his eyes for a moment before continuing. “What exactly happened between you two? Her friend, Heather, was shooting daggers at you the entire time we were at the luncheon.”

“We slept together a few times. It wasn’t much more than that. It won’t be much more than that.” Because, I thought as a jolt of pain ran down my spine and settled in my stomach, I couldn’t take her away. I couldn’t force her will and obedience. Because I loved her, and I’d lied to her in the worst way. I didn’t say as much, but I’m sure it was written all over my face.

“Well, maybe she’s pregnant, and she’ll have no choice in the matter–”

“She’s not,” I snapped, the vitriol in my voice burning my throat as I gripped my coffee mug. She’s not, because she can’t be, not if what Alma said was anywhere close to the truth. I’d been careful, anyway. At least most of the time.

“I don’t know why you’d even bother telling her the truth at this point, Xander. What do you think she’ll do? Run into your arms? I think it’s time to give up, man. Come on–”

“You forget who you’re talking too,” I seethed, but then relaxed as I watched Adrian’s face fall, then go expressionless. I hadn’t recognized my voice. It sounded like someone else, like something I’d drummed up from a long forgotten memory of a distant past, a different life. “I’m sorry–”

“I was out of line,” he said, clearing his throat and straightening up a bit. “What now?”

“We graduate.”

Adrian smirked, shaking his head. “Ah, my parents will be so proud. Their son, not only a warrior but a recipient of a bachelor’s degree in dirty fingernails with a minor in pitchforks.”

I couldn’t stop the soft smile from touching the corners of my mouth as I looked down into the coffee I’d yet to drink. “I don’t even remember what your degree was supposed to be in,” I chuckled, and he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t either. I didn’t understand a damn thing in any of my classes.”

A silence fell between us, and I reluctantly sipped the coffee, finding the unnatural additive pleasant enough, but I would never admit it.

“Lena will know why I’m here by this time tomorrow. I’ll leave it up to her. We only have a few more weeks of this, Adrian. Then we can go back. We can go home.”

Adrian drummed his hands on his knees, giving me a knowing glance. “Sure thing, Alpha,” he said, a wry smile touching his lips.