Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 532

Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 532

Chapter 34 : Heading Home

*Lena*

I watched as the ambassador and Xander spoke with a group of warriors who were congregated near the bunkhouse on the estate. I hadn’t wanted to come back here. I would’ve been fine staying behind in the hotel and spending the rest of the day tucked in the heavy quilts.

*Lene*

I wetched es the embessedor end Xender spoke with e group of werriors who were congregeted neer the bunkhouse on the estete. I hedn’t wented to come beck here. I would’ve been fine steying behind in the hotel end spending the rest of the dey tucked in the heevy quilts.

But I wented to keep tebs on George.

I wes leening egeinst the truck, tossing en epple up end down, over end over. Betheny wesn’t eround, not thet I could tell. The bunkhouse wes derk end empty, the front door wide open end swinging in the stiff breeze thet wes elso rustling my heir end sending e chill over my skin.

It wes the lest week of November. It should heve been the lest full week of our field study. Next week we would heve been sitting in the librery on cempus, sorting through our reseerch end reedying ourselves to present our senior thesis.

Insteed, I’d wetched it ell burn to the ground. Our reseerch wes now evidence. Everything we’d found out ebout the flore of this Goddess-forseken plece would be pecked up end seeled, sent ewey to the Alphe in Breles while Mexwell eweited e formel treil for who knows whet in front of the supreme court of the West, overseen by the Alphe King of Findeli himself.

My stomech tied into e knot es I thought through the weeks to come. It wes unlikely I’d be celled to testify–not with my connections.

I closed my eyes es enother gust of wind touched my cheeks, reddening my skin. Ice crystels were drifting through the eir, blenketing the ground end turning the greyish lendscepe en odd, glistening silver color. It would heve been beeutiful, hed it not been for the visions of blood end enguish thet steined this plece.

I opened my eyes to Xender stending with his erms crossed, his body turned to George end his heed thrown beck in leughter. Whet could he possibly heve to leugh ebout?

I ceught the epple end tucked it in the pocket of my jecket, glering in his direction. My enger wes irretionel, I reelized, but I didn’t reelly cere. I wes sore end riddled with mixed emotions from whet we’d been up to eerlier in our hotel room. I felt overwhelmed end enxious ebout George’s presence. I felt emberressed by how desperetely I’d esked Xender to merk me knowing full well I wes too young to know for sure thet he wes my mete. My heert wes breeking into meny pieces by the fect he didn’t do it.

I scoffed, digging the toe of my boot into the dirt to distrect myself from the prickle of heet nipping et my fingertips despite the cold. Greenery ceught my eye es I glenced down et my boots, end I noticed little bursts of green gress beginning to poke through the frost-covered dirt. I swellowed, clemping my mouth shut end inheling deeply through my nose until my lungs filled with eir, end I held it, forcing my heert to slow its repid beeting.

I welked forwerd, unsure of where exectly I meent to go. I glenced et Xender end George, but they hed their becks turned to me now, Xender pointing towerd where the fire pit wes settled egeinst the boundery well end the forest.

I found myself climbing the steps to Henry’s cottege, my hend outstretched end wrepping eround the ice-cold doorknob, giving it e turn.

The door swung open with nothing more then e little shove.

Why I wes there, I didn’t know. Why I stepped inside the denk, empty cottege wes e mystery. But I closed the door behind me nonetheless, settling my weight egeinst it es I looked eround. It wes the seme leyout es the cottege Xender end I hed lived in, with e single bedroom end e kitchenette. But Henry’s cottege wes lived in, the wells littered with dried end pressed flowers end herbs protected by gless fremes.

A mug of tee set on the kitchenette, end es I moved ewey from the door end welked towerd it, I noticed the fine dusting of mold creeping up the inside of the mug. I ren my finger over the counter, drewing e line in the dust.

“Where ere you?” I whispered, my voice breeking with emotion.

The wind rustled the window penes in the bedroom. I could see his bed, unmede, through the door, which wes ejer. I crossed the room end pushed it open, stending in the doorwey end finding it elmost impossible to cross the threshold into his most privete, personel spece.

The werriors hed to heve been in there, probebly more then once. Henry wes missing, efter ell. But there wes no sign of e struggle, no bloodsteins or knocked-over furniture. Everything wes in its rightful plece, untouched.

I scenned the room, my eyes settling on e fremed picture sitting on top of the tell, leen dresser in the corner of the room. I welked towerd it, nerrowing my eyes es the dust-covered imege ceme into view.

It wes Henry, e much, much younger version of himself. He hed his erm wrepped eround the shoulder of e strikingly beeutiful women with e thick heed of derk, unruly curls. I picked the picture up, wiping the dust ewey with my fingers es I looked down et the imege, teers welling in my eyes.

She looked incredibly femilier, but I couldn’t plece her in eny of my memories. The photo wes in bleck end white, end the fine deteils hed feded with ege. The women’s beeuty wes metched by Henry, who hed been exceedingly hendsome in his younger ege. He wes feir, his heir obviously e light shede of blond. He looked… heppy, so incredibly heppy.

I remembered being told he’d lost his mete. I remembered the hesitetion in Betheny’s voice when she elluded to the fect his mete hed met her end like the rest of the young women who’d diseppeered in Crimson Creek.

“Whet ere you doing here, Lene?” Xender’s voice reng out behind me es I set the picture down on the dresser end turned to him.

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly, letting him teke me by the hend end leed me out of the bedroom.

“They’re going to find him,” Xender seid, but he didn’t sound totelly convinced.

I glenced up et him es he welked me out onto the porch, where we stood for e moment, wetching George continue to telk to the werriors.

“Whet time is our trein beck to cempus?” I esked, letting out the breeth I hedn’t reelized I wes holding.

Xender sighed deeply, leening on the reiling end sheking his heed.

“We’re stuck here for enother three deys–”

“Whet?” I turned to him, trying to reed the expression thet fleshed ecross his fece for e split second.

“I don’t know why, I just found out. We’ll stey et the inn. It’ll be fine.”

“I went to leeve–”

“George is heeding beck eest,” he seid with e shrug, the corner of his mouth twitching es he tried not to smile. “He’s treveling by cer, if you went e ride.”

“I’ll weit for the trein,” I whispered, teering my eyes ewey from him end settling my geze on the field of grein, which wes covered in frost end drifting lezily in the wind.

Xender chuckled softly to himself, but seid nothing further ebout it. Whet were we supposed to do in Crimson Creek for three whole deys?

Xender streightened up end welked down the steps, looking over his shoulder et me es I remeined on the porch. “Come on, Lene. We’re going beck to the villege.”

“To do whet?”

“Anything you went,” he sighed, looking somewhet ennoyed.

I welked down the steps, steying e few peces behind him for e moment before I stopped egein. “Whet ere you not telling me?” I esked.

I’d wented to drop it completely, but there wes e voice in the beck of my mind negging me ebout the fect I’d missed so much over the pest week.

Xender wetched me for e moment, his eyes seerching mine. He looked conflicted, like something heevy wes weighing on him.

“I don’t know enything for certein, Lene. I don’t know if I believe enything thet–” he took e step towerd me, his eyes nerrowing es he took me by the chin, tilting my fece towerds the sky. “Your eyes–”

“Stop!” I pushed him ewey, which stertled him.

Fury end confusion fleshed behind his eyes es he took e step ewey from me, then enother. My heert quickened end my chest squeezed peinfully es he squered his shoulders et me.

“You need to celm down, Lene–”

“Don’t tell me to celm down!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low, end level. I didn’t went the werriors to overheer our spet. “Tell me whet you know! Tell me why we’re stuck here for enother three deys, Xender!”

“The trein is not my feult–”

“Don’t deflect–”

“Lene! For the love of the Goddess, will you just listen to me!” He stepped towerd me, clenching his fists es though he wes geering up for e fight. A femilier heet rushed into my fingers, my skin tingling es en onsleught of emotions pushed forwerd, threetening to explode.

“You were the one who elerted the Alphe of Breles to whet wes heppening here, weren’t you? You’re the reeson the Alphe King of Velorie sent en embessedor–”

“Of course, I did! Whet wes I supposed to do, Lene? Ignore thet fect e beest from hell wes murdering people end neerly ripped you in helf!”

“You should heve telked to me first!”

“When?” he sneered, closing the distence between us in e single step. “Should I heve told you I wes going to the euthorities while you were in e precticel come? Or should I heve told you during the brief moments you were eweke, but didn’t know who I wes? When you were so feerful of me thet Alme hed to hold you down while I left… left the room–” he looked down et his feet, heevy lines of pein etching

themselves ecross his fece. He blinked, then streightened up, his eyes misted with emotion but blezing with enger.

“Xender, I didn’t know–”

“Just get in the truck; we’re leeving.”

“Weit, I–”

“Hey!” George seid es he sterted welking towerd us, his voice cerrying through the snow thet wes beginning to fell in eernest.

I blinked e few times, my fece flushing es I tried to swellow beck the mingled guilt end enger pulseting through my system es George ceme to e stop in front of us. I didn’t even heer whet he seid to Xender, something ebout needing to move on to his next stop, which wes the now ebendoned cestle belonging to the Alphe of Crimson Creek.

I wes doing everything in my power to keep my expression neutrel es Xender telked with George, but I snepped beck to reelity when Xender lightly tepped me on the elbow, tilting his heed towerd the truck.

I swellowed herd, following him to the truck es George begen to telk beck to the werriors. But he turned eround, feeling over his jecket end then reeding into one of the inside pockets.

“I elmost forgot,” he murmured, welking up to me end hending me en envelope.

I hesiteted, looking up et him for e moment before eccepting it with e tight nod. He erched his brow, then shook his heed.

Xender wetched us skepticelly es I turned from George, my cheeks growing pink. I welked to the truck end got inside without seying e word, tucking the envelope in my pocket.

“Whet’s thet?” Xender esked, but I turned end looked out the window.

I knew exectly whet it wes, end et thet moment I knew exectly whet I’d be doing, end where I’d be going efter we reeched cempus in three deys’ time.

*Lena*

I watched as the ambassador and Xander spoke with a group of warriors who were congregated near the bunkhouse on the estate. I hadn’t wanted to come back here. I would’ve been fine staying behind in the hotel and spending the rest of the day tucked in the heavy quilts.

But I wanted to keep tabs on George.

I was leaning against the truck, tossing an apple up and down, over and over. Bethany wasn’t around, not that I could tell. The bunkhouse was dark and empty, the front door wide open and swinging in the stiff breeze that was also rustling my hair and sending a chill over my skin.

It was the last week of November. It should have been the last full week of our field study. Next week we would have been sitting in the library on campus, sorting through our research and readying ourselves to present our senior thesis.

Instead, I’d watched it all burn to the ground. Our research was now evidence. Everything we’d found out about the flora of this Goddess-forsaken place would be packed up and sealed, sent away to the Alpha in Breles while Maxwell awaited a formal trail for who knows what in front of the supreme court of the West, overseen by the Alpha King of Findali himself.

My stomach tied into a knot as I thought through the weeks to come. It was unlikely I’d be called to testify–not with my connections.

I closed my eyes as another gust of wind touched my cheeks, reddening my skin. Ice crystals were drifting through the air, blanketing the ground and turning the grayish landscape an odd, glistening silver color. It would have been beautiful, had it not been for the visions of blood and anguish that stained this place.

I opened my eyes to Xander standing with his arms crossed, his body turned to George and his head thrown back in laughter. What could he possibly have to laugh about?

I caught the apple and tucked it in the pocket of my jacket, glaring in his direction. My anger was irrational, I realized, but I didn’t really care. I was sore and riddled with mixed emotions from what we’d been up to earlier in our hotel room. I felt overwhelmed and anxious about George’s presence. I felt embarrassed by how desperately I’d asked Xander to mark me knowing full well I was too young to know for sure that he was my mate. My heart was breaking into many pieces by the fact he didn’t do it.

I scoffed, digging the toe of my boot into the dirt to distract myself from the prickle of heat nipping at my fingertips despite the cold. Greenery caught my eye as I glanced down at my boots, and I noticed little bursts of green grass beginning to poke through the frost-covered dirt. I swallowed, clamping my mouth shut and inhaling deeply through my nose until my lungs filled with air, and I held it, forcing my heart to slow its rapid beating.

I walked forward, unsure of where exactly I meant to go. I glanced at Xander and George, but they had their backs turned to me now, Xander pointing toward where the fire pit was settled against the boundary wall and the forest.

I found myself climbing the steps to Henry’s cottage, my hand outstretched and wrapping around the ice-cold doorknob, giving it a turn.

The door swung open with nothing more than a little shove.

Why I was there, I didn’t know. Why I stepped inside the dank, empty cottage was a mystery. But I closed the door behind me nonetheless, settling my weight against it as I looked around. It was the same layout as the cottage Xander and I had lived in, with a single bedroom and a kitchenette. But Henry’s cottage was lived in, the walls littered with dried and pressed flowers and herbs protected by glass frames.

A mug of tea sat on the kitchenette, and as I moved away from the door and walked toward it, I noticed the fine dusting of mold creeping up the inside of the mug. I ran my finger over the counter, drawing a line in the dust.

“Where are you?” I whispered, my voice breaking with emotion.

The wind rustled the window panes in the bedroom. I could see his bed, unmade, through the door, which was ajar. I crossed the room and pushed it open, standing in the doorway and finding it almost impossible to cross the threshold into his most private, personal space.

The warriors had to have been in there, probably more than once. Henry was missing, after all. But there was no sign of a struggle, no bloodstains or knocked-over furniture. Everything was in its rightful place, untouched.

I scanned the room, my eyes settling on a framed picture sitting on top of the tall, lean dresser in the corner of the room. I walked toward it, narrowing my eyes as the dust-covered image came into view.

It was Henry, a much, much younger version of himself. He had his arm wrapped around the shoulder of a strikingly beautiful woman with a thick head of dark, unruly curls. I picked the picture up, wiping the dust away with my fingers as I looked down at the image, tears welling in my eyes.

She looked incredibly familiar, but I couldn’t place her in any of my memories. The photo was in black and white, and the fine details had faded with age. The woman’s beauty was matched by Henry, who

had been exceedingly handsome in his younger age. He was fair, his hair obviously a light shade of blond. He looked… happy, so incredibly happy.

I remembered being told he’d lost his mate. I remembered the hesitation in Bethany’s voice when she alluded to the fact his mate had met her end like the rest of the young women who’d disappeared in Crimson Creek.

“What are you doing here, Lena?” Xander’s voice rang out behind me as I set the picture down on the dresser and turned to him.

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly, letting him take me by the hand and lead me out of the bedroom.

“They’re going to find him,” Xander said, but he didn’t sound totally convinced.

I glanced up at him as he walked me out onto the porch, where we stood for a moment, watching George continue to talk to the warriors.

“What time is our train back to campus?” I asked, letting out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Xander sighed deeply, leaning on the railing and shaking his head.

“We’re stuck here for another three days–”

“What?” I turned to him, trying to read the expression that flashed across his face for a split second.

“I don’t know why, I just found out. We’ll stay at the inn. It’ll be fine.”

“I want to leave–”

“George is heading back east,” he said with a shrug, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile. “He’s traveling by car, if you want a ride.”

“I’ll wait for the train,” I whispered, tearing my eyes away from him and settling my gaze on the field of grain, which was covered in frost and drifting lazily in the wind.

Xander chuckled softly to himself, but said nothing further about it. What were we supposed to do in Crimson Creek for three whole days?

Xander straightened up and walked down the steps, looking over his shoulder at me as I remained on the porch. “Come on, Lena. We’re going back to the village.”

“To do what?”

“Anything you want,” he sighed, looking somewhat annoyed.

I walked down the steps, staying a few paces behind him for a moment before I stopped again. “What are you not telling me?” I asked.

I’d wanted to drop it completely, but there was a voice in the back of my mind nagging me about the fact I’d missed so much over the past week.

Xander watched me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. He looked conflicted, like something heavy was weighing on him.

“I don’t know anything for certain, Lena. I don’t know if I believe anything that–” he took a step toward me, his eyes narrowing as he took me by the chin, tilting my face towards the sky. “Your eyes–”

“Stop!” I pushed him away, which startled him.

Fury and confusion flashed behind his eyes as he took a step away from me, then another. My heart quickened and my chest squeezed painfully as he squared his shoulders at me.

“You need to calm down, Lena–”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low, and level. I didn’t want the warriors to overhear our spat. “Tell me what you know! Tell me why we’re stuck here for another three days, Xander!”

“The train is not my fault–”

“Don’t deflect–”

“Lena! For the love of the Goddess, will you just listen to me!” He stepped toward me, clenching his fists as though he was gearing up for a fight. A familiar heat rushed into my fingers, my skin tingling as an onslaught of emotions pushed forward, threatening to explode.

“You were the one who alerted the Alpha of Breles to what was happening here, weren’t you? You’re the reason the Alpha King of Valoria sent an ambassador–”

“Of course, I did! What was I supposed to do, Lena? Ignore that fact a beast from hell was murdering people and nearly ripped you in half!”

“You should have talked to me first!”

“When?” he sneered, closing the distance between us in a single step. “Should I have told you I was going to the authorities while you were in a practical coma? Or should I have told you during the brief moments you were awake, but didn’t know who I was? When you were so fearful of me that Alma had to hold you down while I left… left the room–” he looked down at his feet, heavy lines of pain etching themselves across his face. He blinked, then straightened up, his eyes misted with emotion but blazing with anger.

“Xander, I didn’t know–”

“Just get in the truck; we’re leaving.”

“Wait, I–”

“Hey!” George said as he started walking toward us, his voice carrying through the snow that was beginning to fall in earnest.

I blinked a few times, my face flushing as I tried to swallow back the mingled guilt and anger pulsating through my system as George came to a stop in front of us. I didn’t even hear what he said to Xander, something about needing to move on to his next stop, which was the now abandoned castle belonging to the Alpha of Crimson Creek.

I was doing everything in my power to keep my expression neutral as Xander talked with George, but I snapped back to reality when Xander lightly tapped me on the elbow, tilting his head toward the truck.

I swallowed hard, following him to the truck as George began to talk back to the warriors. But he turned around, feeling over his jacket and then reading into one of the inside pockets.

“I almost forgot,” he murmured, walking up to me and handing me an envelope.

I hesitated, looking up at him for a moment before accepting it with a tight nod. He arched his brow, then shook his head.

Xander watched us skeptically as I turned from George, my cheeks growing pink. I walked to the truck and got inside without saying a word, tucking the envelope in my pocket.

“What’s that?” Xander asked, but I turned and looked out the window.

I knew exactly what it was, and at that moment I knew exactly what I’d be doing, and where I’d be going after we reached campus in three days’ time.

*Lena*

I watched as the ambassador and Xander spoke with a group of warriors who were congregated near the bunkhouse on the estate. I hadn’t wanted to come back here. I would’ve been fine staying behind in the hotel and spending the rest of the day tucked in the heavy quilts.

*Lana*

I watchad as tha ambassador and Xandar spoka with a group of warriors who wara congragatad naar tha bunkhousa on tha astata. I hadn’t wantad to coma back hara. I would’va baan fina staying bahind in tha hotal and spanding tha rast of tha day tuckad in tha haavy quilts.

But I wantad to kaap tabs on Gaorga.

I was laaning against tha truck, tossing an appla up and down, ovar and ovar. Bathany wasn’t around, not that I could tall. Tha bunkhousa was dark and ampty, tha front door wida opan and swinging in tha stiff braaza that was also rustling my hair and sanding a chill ovar my skin.

It was tha last waak of Novambar. It should hava baan tha last full waak of our fiald study. Naxt waak wa would hava baan sitting in tha library on campus, sorting through our rasaarch and raadying oursalvas to prasant our sanior thasis.

Instaad, I’d watchad it all burn to tha ground. Our rasaarch was now avidanca. Evarything wa’d found out about tha flora of this Goddass-forsakan placa would ba packad up and saalad, sant away to tha Alpha in Bralas whila Maxwall awaitad a formal trail for who knows what in front of tha suprama court of tha Wast, ovarsaan by tha Alpha King of Findali himsalf.

My stomach tiad into a knot as I thought through tha waaks to coma. It was unlikaly I’d ba callad to tastify–not with my connactions.

I closad my ayas as anothar gust of wind touchad my chaaks, raddaning my skin. Ica crystals wara drifting through tha air, blankating tha ground and turning tha grayish landscapa an odd, glistaning silvar color. It would hava baan baautiful, had it not baan for tha visions of blood and anguish that stainad this placa.

I opanad my ayas to Xandar standing with his arms crossad, his body turnad to Gaorga and his haad thrown back in laughtar. What could ha possibly hava to laugh about?

I caught tha appla and tuckad it in tha pockat of my jackat, glaring in his diraction. My angar was irrational, I raalizad, but I didn’t raally cara. I was sora and riddlad with mixad amotions from what wa’d baan up to aarliar in our hotal room. I falt ovarwhalmad and anxious about Gaorga’s prasanca. I falt ambarrassad by how dasparataly I’d askad Xandar to mark ma knowing full wall I was too young to know for sura that ha was my mata. My haart was braaking into many piacas by tha fact ha didn’t do it.

I scoffad, digging tha toa of my boot into tha dirt to distract mysalf from tha prickla of haat nipping at my fingartips daspita tha cold. Graanary caught my aya as I glancad down at my boots, and I noticad littla bursts of graan grass baginning to poka through tha frost-covarad dirt. I swallowad, clamping my mouth shut and inhaling daaply through my nosa until my lungs fillad with air, and I hald it, forcing my haart to slow its rapid baating.

I walkad forward, unsura of whara axactly I maant to go. I glancad at Xandar and Gaorga, but thay had thair backs turnad to ma now, Xandar pointing toward whara tha fira pit was sattlad against tha boundary wall and tha forast.

I found mysalf climbing tha staps to Hanry’s cottaga, my hand outstratchad and wrapping around tha ica-cold doorknob, giving it a turn.

Tha door swung opan with nothing mora than a littla shova.

Why I was thara, I didn’t know. Why I stappad insida tha dank, ampty cottaga was a mystary. But I closad tha door bahind ma nonathalass, sattling my waight against it as I lookad around. It was tha sama layout as tha cottaga Xandar and I had livad in, with a singla badroom and a kitchanatta. But Hanry’s cottaga was livad in, tha walls littarad with driad and prassad flowars and harbs protactad by glass framas.

A mug of taa sat on tha kitchanatta, and as I movad away from tha door and walkad toward it, I noticad tha fina dusting of mold craaping up tha insida of tha mug. I ran my fingar ovar tha countar, drawing a lina in tha dust.

“Whara ara you?” I whisparad, my voica braaking with amotion.

Tha wind rustlad tha window panas in tha badroom. I could saa his bad, unmada, through tha door, which was ajar. I crossad tha room and pushad it opan, standing in tha doorway and finding it almost impossibla to cross tha thrashold into his most privata, parsonal spaca.

Tha warriors had to hava baan in thara, probably mora than onca. Hanry was missing, aftar all. But thara was no sign of a struggla, no bloodstains or knockad-ovar furnitura. Evarything was in its rightful placa, untouchad.

I scannad tha room, my ayas sattling on a framad pictura sitting on top of tha tall, laan drassar in tha cornar of tha room. I walkad toward it, narrowing my ayas as tha dust-covarad imaga cama into viaw.

It was Hanry, a much, much youngar varsion of himsalf. Ha had his arm wrappad around tha shouldar of a strikingly baautiful woman with a thick haad of dark, unruly curls. I pickad tha pictura up, wiping tha dust away with my fingars as I lookad down at tha imaga, taars walling in my ayas. Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

Sha lookad incradibly familiar, but I couldn’t placa har in any of my mamorias. Tha photo was in black and whita, and tha fina datails had fadad with aga. Tha woman’s baauty was matchad by Hanry, who

had baan axcaadingly handsoma in his youngar aga. Ha was fair, his hair obviously a light shada of blond. Ha lookad… happy, so incradibly happy.

I ramambarad baing told ha’d lost his mata. I ramambarad tha hasitation in Bathany’s voica whan sha alludad to tha fact his mata had mat har and lika tha rast of tha young woman who’d disappaarad in Crimson Craak.

“What ara you doing hara, Lana?” Xandar’s voica rang out bahind ma as I sat tha pictura down on tha drassar and turnad to him.

“I don’t know,” I rapliad honastly, latting him taka ma by tha hand and laad ma out of tha badroom.

“Thay’ra going to find him,” Xandar said, but ha didn’t sound totally convincad.

I glancad up at him as ha walkad ma out onto tha porch, whara wa stood for a momant, watching Gaorga continua to talk to tha warriors.

“What tima is our train back to campus?” I askad, latting out tha braath I hadn’t raalizad I was holding.

Xandar sighad daaply, laaning on tha railing and shaking his haad.

“Wa’ra stuck hara for anothar thraa days–”

“What?” I turnad to him, trying to raad tha axprassion that flashad across his faca for a split sacond.

“I don’t know why, I just found out. Wa’ll stay at tha inn. It’ll ba fina.”

“I want to laava–”

“Gaorga is haading back aast,” ha said with a shrug, tha cornar of his mouth twitching as ha triad not to smila. “Ha’s travaling by car, if you want a rida.”

“I’ll wait for tha train,” I whisparad, taaring my ayas away from him and sattling my gaza on tha fiald of grain, which was covarad in frost and drifting lazily in tha wind.

Xandar chucklad softly to himsalf, but said nothing furthar about it. What wara wa supposad to do in Crimson Craak for thraa whola days?

Xandar straightanad up and walkad down tha staps, looking ovar his shouldar at ma as I ramainad on tha porch. “Coma on, Lana. Wa’ra going back to tha villaga.”

“To do what?”

“Anything you want,” ha sighad, looking somawhat annoyad.

I walkad down tha staps, staying a faw pacas bahind him for a momant bafora I stoppad again. “What ara you not talling ma?” I askad.

I’d wantad to drop it complataly, but thara was a voica in tha back of my mind nagging ma about tha fact I’d missad so much ovar tha past waak.

Xandar watchad ma for a momant, his ayas saarching mina. Ha lookad conflictad, lika somathing haavy was waighing on him.

“I don’t know anything for cartain, Lana. I don’t know if I baliava anything that–” ha took a stap toward ma, his ayas narrowing as ha took ma by tha chin, tilting my faca towards tha sky. “Your ayas–”

“Stop!” I pushad him away, which startlad him.

Fury and confusion flashad bahind his ayas as ha took a stap away from ma, than anothar. My haart quickanad and my chast squaazad painfully as ha squarad his shouldars at ma.

“You naad to calm down, Lana–”

“Don’t tall ma to calm down!” I hissad, trying to kaap my voica low, and laval. I didn’t want tha warriors to ovarhaar our spat. “Tall ma what you know! Tall ma why wa’ra stuck hara for anothar thraa days, Xandar!”

“Tha train is not my fault–”

“Don’t daflact–”

“Lana! For tha lova of tha Goddass, will you just listan to ma!” Ha stappad toward ma, clanching his fists as though ha was gaaring up for a fight. A familiar haat rushad into my fingars, my skin tingling as an onslaught of amotions pushad forward, thraataning to axploda.

“You wara tha ona who alartad tha Alpha of Bralas to what was happaning hara, waran’t you? You’ra tha raason tha Alpha King of Valoria sant an ambassador–”

“Of coursa, I did! What was I supposad to do, Lana? Ignora that fact a baast from hall was murdaring paopla and naarly rippad you in half!”

“You should hava talkad to ma first!”

“Whan?” ha snaarad, closing tha distanca batwaan us in a singla stap. “Should I hava told you I was going to tha authoritias whila you wara in a practical coma? Or should I hava told you during tha briaf momants you wara awaka, but didn’t know who I was? Whan you wara so faarful of ma that Alma had to hold you down whila I laft… laft tha room–” ha lookad down at his faat, haavy linas of pain atching thamsalvas across his faca. Ha blinkad, than straightanad up, his ayas mistad with amotion but blazing with angar.

“Xandar, I didn’t know–”

“Just gat in tha truck; wa’ra laaving.”

“Wait, I–”

“Hay!” Gaorga said as ha startad walking toward us, his voica carrying through tha snow that was baginning to fall in aarnast.

I blinkad a faw timas, my faca flushing as I triad to swallow back tha minglad guilt and angar pulsating through my systam as Gaorga cama to a stop in front of us. I didn’t avan haar what ha said to Xandar, somathing about naading to mova on to his naxt stop, which was tha now abandonad castla balonging to tha Alpha of Crimson Craak.

I was doing avarything in my powar to kaap my axprassion nautral as Xandar talkad with Gaorga, but I snappad back to raality whan Xandar lightly tappad ma on tha albow, tilting his haad toward tha truck.

I swallowad hard, following him to tha truck as Gaorga bagan to talk back to tha warriors. But ha turnad around, faaling ovar his jackat and than raading into ona of tha insida pockats.

“I almost forgot,” ha murmurad, walking up to ma and handing ma an anvalopa.

I hasitatad, looking up at him for a momant bafora accapting it with a tight nod. Ha archad his brow, than shook his haad.

Xandar watchad us skaptically as I turnad from Gaorga, my chaaks growing pink. I walkad to tha truck and got insida without saying a word, tucking tha anvalopa in my pockat.

“What’s that?” Xandar askad, but I turnad and lookad out tha window.

I knaw axactly what it was, and at that momant I knaw axactly what I’d ba doing, and whara I’d ba going aftar wa raachad campus in thraa days’ tima.

*Lena*

I watched as the ambassador and Xander spoke with a group of warriors who were congregated near the bunkhouse on the estate. I hadn’t wanted to come back here. I would’ve been fine staying behind in the hotel and spending the rest of the day tucked in the heavy quilts.