Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Maeve

Cleo and Myla were sitting in awe in front of the hearth in the library, looking down at infants in their

hands. Alison, Robbie’s mate, was holding Will, who was surprisingly well behaved as he peered up at

the perfect stranger in whose

arms he rested.

“I don’t know how I missed him,” Cleo whispered, looking down at Oliver with a soft frown creasing her

brow. “I’ve nev er… Oh, Maeve, I am so sorry!”

“Cleo, none of this is your fault. None of it. We’re all fine

now, that’s what matters!” | sat between her and Myla and on the couch, holding a mug of hot cider

between my hands as | glanced from baby to baby, a wave of relief washing over me. We had all finally

been reunited after Troy and I had separat ed from the Persephone.

ooh “This one looks so much like Troy.” Myla ran her knuckle

over Charlie’s cheek, which caused him to smile in reflex.

Myla beamed, tears glimmering in her eyes.

“Both Will and Charlie look shockingly like Troy, but | think Oliver looks like me.” | sipped my cider again

and caught Cleo’s surprised gaze. She looked down at little Oli, whose name I hadn’t uttered until that

moment. Myla rested her hand against my thigh, then leaned her head on my shoulder.

“Thank you, Maeve,” she whispered, just as Cleo dissolved into tears.

I wondered if Cleo had ever told Myla the truth about Olivia, who had been Cleo’s mate and Myla’s

mother. Based on their ease with each other, and the teary, knowing glance they shared, I assumed that

they had. Cleo didn’t bother to wipe the tears away as they fell, she kept her gaze firmly on Oli, Olivia’s

namesake.

“What a blessing,” Cleo grinned, her voice distorted by a

sob.

Alison, who was pregnant herself, seemed slightly over whelmed as Myla and Cleo prodded me for

details about the birth of the boys.

“I worry about myself,” Alison said, swallowing hard.

“Why is that? You’re strong and healthy, and only carry one child-” Cleo retorted, but Alison paled.

“I carry Robbie’s child, Cleo. He is seven feet tall. I am sure

he was a giant infant at his birth.”

My eyes widened as I took Alison in. She was very petite,

hardly five feet tall herself, maybe shorter. Seeing her stand ing next to Robbie was shocking.

Robbie, Dad, Troy, Rowan, and Ernest were all in Ernest’s old office, talking about Dianny. Gemma had

just entered the

library, George balanced on her hip while she walked behind

a maid pushing a tea cart stacked with all kinds of lunch foods.

Good, I thought. I was absolutely starving,

“I was just in the kitchen and saw your mom, Maeve. She

said there’s a conference of Alphas meeting in town tomor row. And a gala the next day?” Gemma and

the rest of the family from Winter Forest had arrived late the night before, and we had spent the majority

of the early morning explain ing what had happened when Troy and I left for Mirage with

my parents.

I opened my mouth to reply to Gemma, but Myla

screamed.

Myla’s scream, as well as the screeches of all four babies,

George included, erupted through the library and echoed off

the walls.

In all of the chaos of not only my family, but my friends from the Persephone, arriving at nearly the same

time, I had totally forgotten to mention one major piece of information to Myla.

That Gemma, who she had loved as much as I had, was in

fact, alive.

“Oh, Goddess! Myla I am so sorry -” | leaped from the couch and took Charlie from her arms before she

dropped him in her haste to rise from the couch. Cleo had risen, equal ly as pale but much more

reserved in her reaction to Gemma’

s sudden and unexpected appearance.

We had mourned her death together.

And now she was standing in front of us, healthy, robust, holding her cherubic son proudly in her arms.

nma was

Gemma was absolutely blubbering by the time Myla reached her and threw her arms around her. Alison

looked shocked, totally oblivious to what was happening.

| smiled as I patted Charlie against my shoulder, blinking

away my tears of utter, indescribable joy.

“What a fruitful season,” Alison said as she bounced George on her knee. George was rather particular

about only wanting his mother, but Alison had been successful at keep

ing him entertained while Gemma ate with vigor, lost in quite yet animated conversation with Myla and

Cleo at the long ta

ble on the other end of the library.

A thick blanket in front of the hearth had become a sleeping mat for Will and Oli, who were happily

snoozing in the radiating warmth of the wide fireplace. Alison reached up to run her fingers through

George’s hair, who cooed happily, his mouth stretching into a gummy, delirious smile.

Charlie was asleep on my lap, his round cheeks soft and

rosy.

“It has been fruitful,” I replied with a soft smile.

“My mother would have… she would have loved to see

this place.” Alison flushed with sudden sorrow.

“She is more than welcome to visit…” | tapered off, notic ing the tears glistening in Alison’s eyes. “Oh, I’m

sorry Alison, 1

“It’s alright. Truly. I did what I could for her.”

“What do you mean?” While Robbie had been in Dianny

when Tasia went berserk, Alison’s account was what I was most interested in. She had grown up in

Dianny and would see Tasia’s attack in a different light.

It would have been a significant betrayal, and something that took everything she had ever known from

her in a matter of hours.

“My mother wouldn’t leave with us. She just wouldn’t go. Nor would my two eldest sisters… and their

children. I was able to convince my other sisters and their families to leave, but the men… their

husbands, and my brothers, they….”

She swallowed against her grief. She didn’t need to elab

orate, and I told her as such. She was in great pain over the deaths of many, many of what sounded like

a rather large im mediate family.

“Robbie carried the kids out in his arms,” she said with a soft, somber smile, her eyes glistening with

warmth as she said his name. “Four each in his arms, if you can believe it.”

“I can,” I said with a little laugh, remembering the many

times I had been manhandled by Robbie at Keaton’s, and

sometimes Troy’s, orders.