Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 555
Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 555
Chapter 55 : Is He Dying?
*Lena*
I slept in and found the pce unusually quiet when I finally dressed and walked down to the informal
open kitchen and dining room area used primarily by the family. There was, of course, amercial
kitchen upied by the cooks and servants of the royal pce, but it was easy enough for one of us to
make a piece of toast or pour our own coffee and tea.
I wasn’t alone as I padded into the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder at the three men seated at the far
end of the dining room table, mugs of coffee and empty breakfast tes in front of them–my dad, my
uncle Troy, and to my surprise, my grandfather Ethan.
I slid a te from the dishrack as they eyed me, my father’s gaze especially intense. Whatever
murmuring conversation they’d been having had ceased entirely when I’d entered the room. I realized
then that there was only one thing they could have been talking about, and that was Xander, of course.
I swallowed and turned away from them as I bnced my te of fruit, bacon, and breakfast sausages,
pouring myself some coffee. Troy murmured something I didn’t catch, and Dadughed low in his
throat. Grandpa, of course, stayed silent.
“Grandpa,” I grinned as I walked toward the table. I set my te down, deciding to take a seat next to
my dad. I walked to the end of the table before sitting down and wrapped an arm around my
grandfather’s shoulder, giving him a soft peck on the cheek. Those dark brows didn’t arch a fraction of
an inch as I pulled away and slid into my seat.
“Good afternoon, my favorite granddaughter,” he said with a smile as he wiped my chapstick from his
cheek.
It was incredibly easy to see that my grandfather had been quite a handsome, albeit formidable, young
man. He had the deep cobalt eyes synonymous with his side of the family, eyes he shared with his
sister Georgia and had passed on to his daughter and nieces and nephews. His hair was pepper gray
and was still thick despite his advancing age. His face showed signs of a long life, a good life, but those
lines around his eyes told me he’d seen a thing or two in his day.
Hemanded every room he was in, despite the fact he’d been retired for nearly two decades. He
was currently nked by two Alphas but was still the one in charge.
“I’m your only granddaughter,” I grinned, then forked a grape into my mouth.
He gave me a sideways, tight-lipped smile in return before he exhaled through his nose and tapped the
side of his coffee mug, ncing between my dad and Troy.
“Did I interrupt something?” I asked, but none of the men looked in my direction.
“Nothing, kid. Just business about New Dianny,” Troy said softly as he leaned back in the muted yellow
chairs that surrounded the table. Compared to the rest of the pce, this section was soft, lived in, and
felt more like a home than a testament to their rank. Books lined the far wall, nestled in built-in, ceiling-
height shelves made of the palest wood I’d ever seen. There was no hearth, which would have been a
silly addition given that it was humid and warm in the Isles year round, even in the dead of winter. A
worn-in, slightly frayed rugy beneath the scratched-up dining room table, and there were even rings
from water stains in the wood. I traced on with my finger as my dad pursed his lips and tilted his head
in Troy’s direction.
“I take it Robbie and Alison have finished their move to New Dianny, with their pack?”
Troy nodded, and his eyes darkened for a moment as he looked down into his coffee.
“They’ve recently finished construction on the vige, roughly five miles ind. They mean to keep the
jungle intact and build out toward the hills beyond, toward the outskirts of the valley where Dianny used
to be.”
Smart, I thought, listening to their conversation in silence as I ate my breakfast. The Southern Jungle
was prone to tropical storms of unheard-of strength. The jungle lining the beaches acted as a barrier.
The trees and dense foliage would act as a shield for the vige, even if the worst of weather.
“And George is truly going?” Dad asked, his chestnut-colored brows arched as he looked from
Grandpa to Troy.
Troy shrugged one shoulder, a gleam of mischief in his eyes as Grandpa groaned and shook his head.
“Gemma and Ernest are in a fit over it,” Grandpa said hoarsely, coughing a bit as he lifted his mug to
his lips. “But I suspect it has more to do with Eliza likely attending university in Mirage next year. Empty
nest.”
A hush fell over the table as I nced at the men over the rim of my coffee mug, each lingering in
contemtive silence over a shared grief. I suddenly saw them all for their ages.
Troy and Maeve still had a son at home, a young son. Luke. But everyone else?
Grandpa coughed again, clearing his throat. “Lena?”
“Yes?” I asked, briefly narrowing my eyes at him as he shifted his weight in his chair.
He was still a lean, healthy-looking man, but I’d noticed the color was missing from his cheeks, and the
dark circles beneath his eyes were heavier than they had been thest time I’d seen him. The cough
was new, as well.
“Your friend, Alexander–”
“He’s not my friend,” I said, a little too quickly.
Troy’s brow arched, and my dad’s eyes narrowed as everyone turned to me. I stifled a blush, tilting my
head away from the men and pretending to be invested in the single grape that remained on my te,
which was a bit too bruised to be appetizing.
“Whatever he is to you then,” Grandpa continued cautiously, although he looked as though he could
see right thru me at that moment, “he is… trustworthy, this Alpha King?”
Trustworthy? What could I possibly say? Xander had spent weeks lying to me….
But had he really lied? Maybe not totally. It was more like he’d left major pieces of the truth. He’d also
saved my life, marked me, told me he loved me….
I prayed no one could see the heat prickling on my cheeks as I cleared my throat and nodded, but
internally, my mind began to spin. He had said he’de here to find a Luna for his kingdom, a Luna
from my bloodline, from the White Queens in particr. He’d said, I was pretty sure, that he meant to
do that by any means necessary….
“Wait–” I said, but was cut off by the sound of something thudding against the kitchen counter. Maeve
hade into the room, quiet as a mouse, but left no means to let us continue the conversation in
peace as she spread the three-ring binders she’d dropped on the counter out in front of her.
The four of us looked up at her, and eventually, her eyes turned on us, narrowing into slits.
“What?” she asked, looking more than a little frazzled as she opened one of the binders.
“There’s fresh coffee–” Troy began, but she waved a hand in dismissal.
“Daddy?” she asked tersely without even ncing at the table.
“Yes, Maeve?” Grandpa sighed, rolling his eyes to meet Troy’s gaze with a look of indignation spreadin
over his face.
“Have you been on your walk today?”
Grandpa ran his tongue along his bottom lip, holding my uncle’s gaze. I wished I had ess to
whatever conversation was going on between them, likely over the mind-link, and likely something
along the lines of Grandpa willing my uncle to put a muzzle on his mate.
“No–”
“Doctor’s orders,” Maeve clicked her tongue, her eyes still fixed on the binder she had opened, pieces
ofce sticking out between itsminated pages.
Grandpa looked at Maeve then, biting on his lower lip as though he were contemting saying
something cutting, then rose, waving away my dad and Troy’s attempts to help him out of his chair.
“I haven’t had a shred of peace,” he murmured, pointing a shaky finger at Troy, “since you took her
away on that boat–”
“I heard that,” Maeve said with a smirk.
Dad exhaled deeply, looking from his father to his younger sister.
Grandpa unhooked the top of his cane from his chair and grumbled his farewells, hobbling toward the
entrance of the kitchen. He smacked Maeve’s ankle with his cane before walking out of sight. She
hissed, glowering after him.
But Troy chuckled to himself.
“Leave the man alone, honey–”
“He looks awful, Troy. Rowan, you have to have noticed–”
“Of course, I have,” Dad said in a low hiss, shaking his head. “He’s old, Maeve.”
“He’s not that old. Late seventies isn’t old,” she protested.“Late seventies or no, he’s been through a
lot–”
“Mom is set on just letting him be tired, grumpy… limping around with that cane.” Maeve was talking to
no one in particr as she looked back down at her binders, but I heard, and saw, the hurt lingering
behind her words.
“Is he sick?” I dared to ask.
“I don’t think so, honey. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Why doesn’t Grandma just give him some of her blood?” I pressed, which elicited a nudge of warning
from my dad.
“She won’t do it,” Maeve said heavily, flipping a page in the binder.
I wanted to ask why not, and it must have been written all over my face because Troy inhaled, tilting his
head as he looked from his wife, to me.
“Your Grandpa is tired, is all. The journey here was hard on him. I think it’s best if we all–” he looked at
Dad, then Maeve, his eyes giving them a silentmand, “leave him alone, and let him be.”
It was an answer meant for a child. I furrowed my brow, leaning back in the chair with my arms crossed
over my chest.
“He’s dying, isn’t he?”
“Selene–” Dad began, but I caught Maeve’s eyes.
She nodded, her eyes misting for a moment as she gathered up the binders.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked.
N?velDrama.Org is the owner.
Troy was chewing the inside of his cheek, and Maeve’s eyes flicked from mine to Dad’s, her gaze
sharp enough to kill.
“We didn’t want to worry any of you kids,” Dad began as I turned my eyes to meet his.
“We’re not kids,” I said sharply, then winced as Dad’s face fell, his eyes clouding.
“I know. I know,” he said. “He’s been having some trouble with his heart–”
“And he passed out and fell down the stairs at home in Winter Forest! That’s why he’s using a cane!”
Maeve cut in,
looking furious.
“He was also cleared by Kacidra,” Troy said sternly, “who said he was fine.”
“She didn’t say he was fine,” Maeve argued.
“She gave him a list of things he needs to do to better his health, Maeve,” Dad corrected.
“Like take walks, and not drink coffee!” she pointed a finger at the coffee mug he’d left on the table.
Troy leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
“It’s his life, Maeve. He doesn’t want your mom’s help in the matter, and we need to respect his wishes.
How would you feel if our sons starting bossing us around and getting on our–”
She held the binder, her face going red with fury. Then, she turned on her heel and sped out of the
room.
Troy sighed, running his hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose as he said, “Goddess, I
cannot wait for this wedding to be over.”