Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 542

Chapter 44 : Dressed for Him

*Lena*

“Abigail won’t mind, not one bit,” Heather grinned as she pulled a studded leather jacket from Abigail’s closet. She turned it around, holding the hanger as she ran her fingers over the leather. “You know how she is, always wanting us all to dress a certain way for these tilings.” This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

Heather wasn’t wrong. We’d been calling Abigail our pageant mom for years now, but tonight just didn’t feel the same without her.

I glanced in the mirror in the tight bedroom Viv and Abigail shared, fluffing my hair. Heather had curled and styled it to fall over my shoulders in beachy waves, which highlighted the angles of my face beautifully.

Hair, check. Makeup? It would do. I wasn’t used to seeing myself with dark plum lipstick and heavy, vampy eyes, but the liner Heather had chosen did bring out the flakes of blue that speckled my gray irises.

It was my outfit that felt off, despite Heather’s and Viv’s attempts to loosen me up with a glass of wine. The dress was a deep midnight blue, tight around the waist and chest and then hung loosely over my hips. It wasn’t incredibly short, but there was a slit up one side that went nearly to my hip bone. Underwear was impossible, but that was the whole point, at least that’s what Abigail had told me the day she bought it, roughly two years ago.

We’d been browsing through one of the upscale thrift shops in downtown Morhan one sunny, spring Saturday during our sophomore year. She turned toward me, two dresses in her hands, holding them up for me to see.

“What do you think men see when they look at dresses like these?” she’d asked. The other dress was a pale pink bodycon style that seemed grossly out of fashion, and I shrugged. She held up the pink dress, playfully tilting her head toward it. “This one screams “Date Me,” and maybe, “Take me home to meet your parents-”

“I’d be mortified meeting someone’s parents in that!” I’d laughed, shaking my head as I flipped through a rack of sweaters.

“But this one,” she said longingly, running her fingers over the silken blue fabric of the second dress, her finger’s toying with tire upper thigh-high slit. She paused, her eyes flicking to mine. “Men are thinking of only one thing when they look at our outfits.

Did you know that? Normally they don’t even notice what we’re wearing. Ask any man what you wore yesterday and he won’t have a clue.”

“Your point?” I laughed, folding a sweater over my arm.

“This dress is a “’f**k me’ dress. Do you know why?”

“No, why?”

“Because when a man sees you in something like this,” she held it to her chest, doing a little twirl, “the only thing he’s thinking about is how easily he can get it off of you.”

Her- voice played through my mind as I looked in the mirror in her bedroom, two years later, wearing the very dress I’d teased her about. It was fitting for the situation, although I refused to admit it out loud. I wasn’t dressing for myself. Knee-high black leather boots, the dress, and an acid-wash denim jacket were a far cry from the leggings and button-up denim shirts I gravitated towards on a daily basis.

I was dressing for Xander.

I blushed, glancing away from my reflection while Heather and Viv chatted as they readied themselves for our walk to the warehouse. It was only two blocks, but we’d likely be frozen solid by the time we reached the party.

We were dressed to kill, and thick parkas would ruin the vibe, according to Heather. There was bound to be underclassmen at the party, and we were seniors—not only that, but graduates. We were ready to kick ass and take on the world, and we were definitely dressed like it.

“You look delicious,” Heather teased as I followed her out into our front hallway.

I blushed again, swallowing back my deep desire to run to my room and change into sweatpants. It was too late to back out now, anyway. I needed to do this. I needed to see Xander. If he wasn’t at the party, well, I’d sneak home and wallow in my own self-pity within the next two hours or so.

“I wonder what Abigail is up to now,” Viv quipped as we left our apartment building and walked out onto the snowy street. The cold hit me like a freight train, and I wrapped my denim jacket tightly around my middle, hugging myself as I shuffled alongside my friends.

“I bet she’s having the time of her life,” Heather replied, her teeth chattering by the time we reached the street comer and turned to walk down the street toward the warehouse. “I bet she’s bagged one of the princes already, having to work so closely with the royal family of Poldesse, you know.”

“Do you think it’s Prince Charlie? He is so dreamy,” Viv purred, and I stifled a laugh.

“No way, not Charlie. He’s too… good for her, you know? Not like she doesn’t deserve him, but he doesn’t seem like the wild type. Abigail needs wild. I was thinking Prince Oliver is more her type.” Heather glanced back at me. eyeing me as I lowered my gaze to my feet to avoid her gaze. “What do you think, Lena? Which Prince is better for Abigail?”

Oh, Goddess. This was the perfect opportunity for me to drop a truth bomb on my friends.

“Actually,” I said after a moment of consideration, “I think you’re right about Oliver and Abigail. He’d like her.”

“How do you know?” Viv teased. “You always avoid chatting about the royals.”

I opened my mouth to answer her, but we were met by another group of students heading to the same party, our conversations mingling. I shut my mouth, smiling softly to myself. No, not the right time to shock them to the core with the truth. But, I’d been willing, and ready, to do so. That was a step in the right direction, at least.

A few minutes later we reached the warehouse, which was settled against the slow-moving, ice- covered rivers that hugged the town of Morhan. Music spilled into the street as we approached, and we were immediately met by a rush of warm air as we finally gained entrance to what looked like a huge turnout.

The warehouse, once empty and stale, was decorated with twinkling lights that hung from the ceiling, and tables with refreshments lined one wall as we stepped inside. Heather looked around, taking it all in.

“I was skeptical about the location, but this isn’t that bad,” she grinned, leaning in to talk into my ear so I could hear her over the music.

There was a swelling crowd beneath the twinkling lights, and people were already dancing to the thrumming music that sent little shockwaves across the concrete floor. I swallowed back my nervousness, then followed Heather and Viv as they walked through the crowd toward the bar that had been set up on the other- side of the warehouse.

A banner stretched across the far wall, hung from the rafters and illuminated by the star-like lights. “Congratulations Winter Graduates” it read, and I felt the lump in my throat loosen. I didn’t have a

reason to feel out of place. I’d be leaving in two days. This was my last real college experience. As Heather handed me a can of hard seltzer, I decided to make the most of it.

***

I’d lost Viv and Heather ages ago. The amount of people stuffed into the warehouse seemed impossible, but I’d given up on trying to count heads and doing the math. I danced a bit, then broke away from the fray for some fresh air, grabbing another drink before heading out the back door of the warehouse that had been propped open to let fresh, cool air inside.

The dock had been cleared of snow and just as finely decorated as the inside of the warehouse. Propane heaters lined the dock, and a few small groups were milling about, their breath coming out in puffs of mist as they spoke. I walked to the railing overlooking the river below, watching a chunk of ice slide beneath the dock and out the other side.

“Hey, uh, you’re Lena, right?”

I turned my head to the voice, coming face to face with Adrian, one of the guys Xander was often seen hanging out with around campus. They were roommates.

“Yeah,” I said, furrowing my brow.

“Oh, well. Uh-” He leaned on the railing, looking over my face with marked curiosity before giving me a soft smile. “Xander’s kinda a prick sometimes, but he’s not a bad guy.”

I turned to face him fully.

“Did he send you here to talk to me?”

“No,” he smirked, “and he’ll be pissed that I am. I just felt like the two of you needed a third party to help untangle this, uh, situation.” He waved his wave in a circle, arching his brow at me.

“There is no situation,” I ground out, giving him a glare.

“That’s not what I heard.”

Fury flamed across my skin as I took a single step toward Adrian. “What exactly did you hear?”

“Well, he stood you up, and felt awful about it. Then he ran back to Crimson Creek to fetch that miracle root powder to save your life after you got sick. How did that happen, exactly? A little more than a cold-”

“He told you everything, didn’t he?”

“Well, yeah, of course he did.”

My stomach tied in a knot as I watched mirth dance behind Adrian’s eyes.

“He likes you, a lot. Xander’s always been a stuck-up, emotionless succubus of a person and I’ve known him my entire life,” he continued, but I cut him off.

“What a way to talk about your friend-”

“All I’m trying to say,” he urged, raising his hands in surrender, “is that he loves you, Lena. And he’s willing to do some really stupid tilings in order to keep you safe, including letting you go. I don’t think that’s what either- of you want, right? If it’s not, I need you to do something so he gets his head back on straight.”

“Whatever happened between us, we ended it mutually. It was his decision as much as it was mine-”

“Who are you dressed for, then? I’ve never seen you at a party, Lena.”

I smoothed my jean jacket over my chest, fighting back the blush. Adrian could see right through me in that moment, and his arched brows said it all.

“Talk to him,” he urged.

“No! He was the one who-”

“Adrian,” came a deep, male voice in the doorway of the warehouse.

and I turned to the doorway, my heart leaping in my chest as the shadowed figure stepped into the light.

“Do you want to explain what the hell you think you’re doing?”

Every cell in my body was on fire as Xander stepped forward. He looked peeved, his eyes narrowing on Adrian for a long moment. I didn’t hear what Adrian said; I wasn’t paying attention.

Xander’s eyes moved from the toes of my boots up my legs, then along the open slit that ran up the entire length of my thigh, before settling on mine.