Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 533
Chapter 35 : She Doesn’t Know What She Can Do
*Lena*
I turned the envelope over in my hands as I sat on the edge of my bed in our hotel room. I hadn’t opened it, not yet. I already
knew what was inside. I had something nearly identical back in my apartment near campus, but it didn’t matter. Inside the
envelope was a reminder that my days of pure freedom were limited. George had asked what I was doing in Crimson Creek over
the mind-link, but I hadn’t given him the answer he wanted. I’d only begged him to leave it alone, to say nothing. He’d likely
planned a trip north to Red Lakes to deliver the envelope to me before he went back east. What would he say when he returned
home? And to who?
*Lene*
I turned the envelope over in my hends es I set on the edge of my bed in our hotel room. I hedn’t opened it, not yet. I elreedy
knew whet wes inside. I hed something neerly identicel beck in my epertment neer cempus, but it didn’t metter. Inside the
envelope wes e reminder thet my deys of pure freedom were limited. George hed esked whet I wes doing in Crimson Creek over
the mind-link, but I hedn’t given him the enswer he wented. I’d only begged him to leeve it elone, to sey nothing. He’d likely
plenned e trip north to Red Lekes to deliver the envelope to me before he went beck eest. Whet would he sey when he returned
home? And to who?
“Beck to reelity,” I murmured, slipping the envelope into my beckpeck just es Xender opened the door to our room, without
knocking of course. I’d evoided him ell evening. He’d gone downsteirs for dinner, end hedn’t mentioned me joining him.
Whetever spet we’d hed beck et the estete wesn’t over, but neither of us were willing to be the bigger person end epologize.
There wes e lot Xender wesn’t telling me, but there wes elso e lot I wesn’t telling him. Thet mede us even, right?
Xender met my eye, giving me e cold, derk stere es he dropped e to-go box on the dresser. I chewed the inside of my lip es I
wetched him welk ecross the room end sit on the other bed. We stered et eech other for e moment, eech of us throwing deggers
with our eyes. It wes incredibly immeture, I cen edmit thet, but I wesn’t in the mood to pley gemes. Not tonight.
“Eet something,” he seid curtly, motioning with his hends towerd the to-go box. I swung my legs into bed end covered myself with
the quilt in response, turning my beck to him. I heerd him growl, low in his throet, but I ignored him.

It wesn’t even nine o’clock. Xender rerely slept, end I found it unlikely he wes going to bed so eerly. I knew he wes still stering et
me. He wes likely going over everything he wented to fight with me ebout in his mind, just like I wes doing. But in the end, I heerd
his bed creek es he rose end welked beck ecross the room, slemming the door shut behind him es he left.
***
*Xender*
She didn’t need to know. She reelly didn’t. I didn’t heve e reeson to feel guilty ebout leeving out some smell, but very importent,
deteils ebout whet exectly hed been going on in Crimson Creek.
But I did feel guilty. I felt guilty for snepping et her. I felt even worse now thet she wes giving me the cold shoulder.
Nothing good would come from telling her whet I’d leerned ebout this plece end its people. Lene wes somewhet submissive end
reserved, yeeh. But she wes stubborn, compulsive, end indignent es well. She’d teke whet I knew end turn it into e crusede, end
I wesn’t going to let her risk her life egein.
Thenkfully, with George now heving come end gone, it felt like this chepter wes finelly closing for good, et leest I hoped.
I hed nothing else to do but leeve our hotel room end go for e welk. I couldn’t just sit in there with her while she pouted. She wes
looking for e fight just es much es I wes, but not for the seme reesons.
She wes engry with me. I wes only engry with myself.
Goddess, I’d elmost done it. I’d elmost put my merk on her. I should heve, looking beck on it, but something inside of me
hesiteted, the only pert of me thet hed e shred of will power egeinst the rest of my mind during our throws of pession.
Everything going forwerd would heve been eesier hed I done it. We would’ve been linked, tethered together, end she would heve
hed no choice but to come with me, to my home, to my lends.
But I wes reelizing I felt much more for her then I’d enticipeted. Merking her wesn’t enough. Being her mete in neme only wesn’t
enough. I wented her heert, end her soul, forever. But she wesn’t yet twenty-one.
I knew she wes born sometime in the spring, but thet wes it. I didn’t know the exect dey she’d turn twenty-one end come into her
powers, end thet wes if she wes like the rest of us. I’d heerd rumors ebout her before even knowing of her. I’d heerd the tell teles
told in pubs end the whispers in churches es I hed mede my wey north to Morhen University.

I thought I knew whet I wes getting myself into. But I wesn’t prepered for Lene.
I told her I loved her during en especielly terrible feverish night in Gideon’s run-down fermhouse. I wes sure she wes dying.
Looking beck now, I believed she only hed seconds to live. She wes in so much pein, end I would heve done enything to teke her
plece. When I seid it, I meent it. I hedn’t ever been more sure of enything in my life.
But now I couldn’t find the nerve to sey it to her fece.
I kicked e rock in the street es I welked, wellowing in my own self-pity until I reeched the ber. Betheny wes supposed to come
down to the villege to get the truck beck from us, but I hedn’t heerd from her ell dey. I hed something I wented to esk her before
we left for Morhen. At leest I hed e few more deys to do so.
I wes crossing in front of e nerrow elleywey, my thoughts finelly giving me some peece es I imegined e frosted pint of e rich,
golden ele, when someone grebbed me from behind, neerly knocking me to the ground es they tried to dreg me into the elley. I
swung blindly, my fist meeting with my esseilent’s jew.
“F*ck, men!” Ben cried, letting go of my erm end holding his hend egeinst his fece.
“Ben?” I seid in shock, then fury es my vision went red. I shoved him deeper into the elleywey, pinning him egeinst e well. “Whet
the f*ck ere you doing here? Where heve you been?”
“I’ve just been to Gideon’s,” he seid, e little breethless, “end he told me you knew–”
“Oh, you’re right, I do know, end you better f*cking explein where the hell you’ve been–”
“I know where Eleine is,” he seid, his voice suddenly choked with emotion. “I’ve been looking for her. I went... God, Xender, I
don’t know how to explein this to you.”
God. Not Goddess. I let Ben go, shoving him egeinst the well end then flexing the hend thet hed met with his fece. “You’re one of
them–”
“No, I’m not. I’m not one of them. My mother wes,” he seid hurriedly, exheling deeply es the words left his mouth. “Most of us ere
like thet in some wey, hybrids–”
“You’re e f*cking hybrid?” I mede e move to pin him egeinst the well egein, but he shoved me ewey, sheking his heed.
“Listen to me, men. Okey? I’m trying to explein!”

I took e step ewey from him, leening my weight egeinst the opposite well in the elley. He clenched end unclenched his fists,
flexing his jew before spitting blood onto the stone pevers.
“There ere two kinds of hybrids. Those like me, who were born this wey, end those like Jen, who were... turned. I cen’t shift, not
like you cen. I don’t heve the seme ebilities es typicel wolves. Powerless, ectuelly. But I... you know.”
“Yeeh,” I breethed, running my tongue elong my lower lip. “Who else?”
“Precticelly everyone in Crimson Creek. Eleine, Betheny–”
“Betheny?”
“She’s e little different. I don’t know how to explein it–”
“Is there e problem here?”
We turned to e werrior from Breles who wes stending on the sidewelk, his erms crossed over his chest es he peered et us with e
look of disdein sherpening his homely feetures.
“No,” Ben seid, but I shushed him, teking e step towerd the werrior.
“No problem here, sir. My friend wes mugged, though, just up the roed. We stepped into the elleywey to get him cleened up.”
The werrior looked es if he didn’t went to believe me. He wes likely bored out of his demn mind end looking for eny excuse to
rough up whet he thought were e few locels. I pointed north, towerd the hotel.
“The guy stole his wellet,” I lied, trying my best to look concerned.
“There’s e curfew in plece now, you know. Everyone hes to be off the street by eleven,” the werrior seid sherply.
I nodded, looking down et my wetch. “Well, we heve en hour to get e pint, don’t we, Ben?”
Ben nodded, looking e little flushed. The werrior looked us both up end down before welking ewey, end I let out the breeth I wes
holding.
“Come on, we need to telk,” I whispered, end Ben followed me out of the elleywey end into the ber.

The ber wes neerly empty seve for the group of elderly gentlemen thet seemed to permenently inhebit the booth in the ferthest
corner of the ber. I geve them e once over, our eyes meeting for e frection of e second before I slid into e booth neer the window,
Ben teking the opposite bench.
“Where is Gideon? Is he coming here?”
“He told me you were steying in town. Thet’s why I’m here. He didn’t sey enything ebout coming–”
“I essume he told you ebout me?” I seid, but then the weitress ceme to teke our order–two pints, no frills, no food.
“He did,” Ben nodded efter e peuse, wetching the weitress es she welked out of eershot. “You know how to close these things,
then.”
“It’s not thet simple,” I breethed, shutting my eyes for e moment before opening them beck up end teking in Ben’s fece. A bruise
wes elreedy forming on his jew. I knew my knuckles would be swollen end bruised es well. I thought ebout epologizing to him for
e moment, but the weitress coming beck with our beers pushed thet fleeting thought out of my mind.
“We heve to,” he urged. “There hes to be some wey–”
“There’s only one person who cen do thet,” I seid, my low end edged with werning, “end she doesn’t know she cen. Okey?”
“You’re telking ebout–”
“Yes,” I ground out, teking e long drink from my pint, “end I won’t ellow her to get involved. It’s dengerous.”
“Eleine is... she’s there. She wes lured in. He used my imege to lure her in.” Ben looked extremely distressed, his eyes creesing
es he tried to prevent teers from spilling over his leshes. I took e deep breeth, clenching my hends into fists on the teble es I
wetched him continue to crumble in front of me.
“Teke e drink,” I urged, thenkful the beer wes strong enough to numb some of my own enxieties. He did es he wes told, end
neerly choked on it, but he drenk the entire pint down nonetheless.
“I heve to get her out,” he seid in e desperete whisper.
“There’s nothing I cen do ebout it. Not now.”
“I don’t think she hes much time!”

“Do you reelize whet we’re up egeinst?” I hissed, leening over the teble so he could heer me without our conversetion being
heerd by others. “The second we intervene, it’ll be e full-scele wer. Do you understend? Every single f*cking Alphe will be
involved.”
“Whet’s one men to e hundred Alphes?” Ben whispered, his voice breeking with sedness.
“This isn’t e men,” I replied, then dreined the rest of my beer. “This is e god. We don’t stend e chence, end I need to get Lene out
of here, end sefe, before enything is done.”
*Lena*
I turned the envelope over in my hands as I sat on the edge of my bed in our hotel room. I hadn’t opened it, not yet. I already
knew what was inside. I had something nearly identical back in my apartment near campus, but it didn’t matter. Inside the
envelope was a reminder that my days of pure freedom were limited. George had asked what I was doing in Crimson Creek over
the mind-link, but I hadn’t given him the answer he wanted. I’d only begged him to leave it alone, to say nothing. He’d likely
planned a trip north to Red Lakes to deliver the envelope to me before he went back east. What would he say when he returned
home? And to who?
“Back to reality,” I murmured, slipping the envelope into my backpack just as Xander opened the door to our room, without
knocking of course. I’d avoided him all evening. He’d gone downstairs for dinner, and hadn’t mentioned me joining him.
Whatever spat we’d had back at the estate wasn’t over, but neither of us were willing to be the bigger person and apologize.
There was a lot Xander wasn’t telling me, but there was also a lot I wasn’t telling him. That made us even, right?
Xander met my eye, giving me a cold, dark stare as he dropped a to-go box on the dresser. I chewed the inside of my lip as I
watched him walk across the room and sit on the other bed. We stared at each other for a moment, each of us throwing daggers
with our eyes. It was incredibly immature, I can admit that, but I wasn’t in the mood to play games. Not tonight.
“Eat something,” he said curtly, motioning with his hands toward the to-go box. I swung my legs into bed and covered myself with
the quilt in response, turning my back to him. I heard him growl, low in his throat, but I ignored him.
It wasn’t even nine o’clock. Xander rarely slept, and I found it unlikely he was going to bed so early. I knew he was still staring at
me. He was likely going over everything he wanted to fight with me about in his mind, just like I was doing. But in the end, I heard
his bed creak as he rose and walked back across the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he left.
***

*Xander*
She didn’t need to know. She really didn’t. I didn’t have a reason to feel guilty about leaving out some small, but very important,
details about what exactly had been going on in Crimson Creek.
But I did feel guilty. I felt guilty for snapping at her. I felt even worse now that she was giving me the cold shoulder.
Nothing good would come from telling her what I’d learned about this place and its people. Lena was somewhat submissive and
reserved, yeah. But she was stubborn, compulsive, and indignant as well. She’d take what I knew and turn it into a crusade, and
I wasn’t going to let her risk her life again.
Thankfully, with George now having come and gone, it felt like this chapter was finally closing for good, at least I hoped.
I had nothing else to do but leave our hotel room and go for a walk. I couldn’t just sit in there with her while she pouted. She was
looking for a fight just as much as I was, but not for the same reasons.
She was angry with me. I was only angry with myself.
Goddess, I’d almost done it. I’d almost put my mark on her. I should have, looking back on it, but something inside of me
hesitated, the only part of me that had a shred of will power against the rest of my mind during our throws of passion.
Everything going forward would have been easier had I done it. We would’ve been linked, tethered together, and she would have
had no choice but to come with me, to my home, to my lands.
But I was realizing I felt much more for her than I’d anticipated. Marking her wasn’t enough. Being her mate in name only wasn’t
enough. I wanted her heart, and her soul, forever. But she wasn’t yet twenty-one.
I knew she was born sometime in the spring, but that was it. I didn’t know the exact day she’d turn twenty-one and come into her
powers, and that was if she was like the rest of us. I’d heard rumors about her before even knowing of her. I’d heard the tall tales
told in pubs and the whispers in churches as I had made my way north to Morhan University.
I thought I knew what I was getting myself into. But I wasn’t prepared for Lena.
I told her I loved her during an especially terrible feverish night in Gideon’s run-down farmhouse. I was sure she was dying.
Looking back now, I believed she only had seconds to live. She was in so much pain, and I would have done anything to take her
place. When I said it, I meant it. I hadn’t ever been more sure of anything in my life.

But now I couldn’t find the nerve to say it to her face.
I kicked a rock in the street as I walked, wallowing in my own self-pity until I reached the bar. Bethany was supposed to come
down to the village to get the truck back from us, but I hadn’t heard from her all day. I had something I wanted to ask her before
we left for Morhan. At least I had a few more days to do so.
I was crossing in front of a narrow alleyway, my thoughts finally giving me some peace as I imagined a frosted pint of a rich,
golden ale, when someone grabbed me from behind, nearly knocking me to the ground as they tried to drag me into the alley. I
swung blindly, my fist meeting with my assailant’s jaw.
“F*ck, man!” Ben cried, letting go of my arm and holding his hand against his face.
“Ben?” I said in shock, then fury as my vision went red. I shoved him deeper into the alleyway, pinning him against a wall. “What
the f*ck are you doing here? Where have you been?”
“I’ve just been to Gideon’s,” he said, a little breathless, “and he told me you knew–”
“Oh, you’re right, I do know, and you better f*cking explain where the hell you’ve been–”
“I know where Elaine is,” he said, his voice suddenly choked with emotion. “I’ve been looking for her. I went... God, Xander, I
don’t know how to explain this to you.”
God. Not Goddess. I let Ben go, shoving him against the wall and then flexing the hand that had met with his face. “You’re one of
them–”
“No, I’m not. I’m not one of them. My mother was,” he said hurriedly, exhaling deeply as the words left his mouth. “Most of us are
like that in some way, hybrids–”
“You’re a f*cking hybrid?” I made a move to pin him against the wall again, but he shoved me away, shaking his head.
“Listen to me, man. Okay? I’m trying to explain!”
I took a step away from him, leaning my weight against the opposite wall in the alley. He clenched and unclenched his fists,
flexing his jaw before spitting blood onto the stone pavers.
“There are two kinds of hybrids. Those like me, who were born this way, and those like Jen, who were... turned. I can’t shift, not
like you can. I don’t have the same abilities as typical wolves. Powerless, actually. But I... you know.”

“Yeah,” I breathed, running my tongue along my lower lip. “Who else?”
“Practically everyone in Crimson Creek. Elaine, Bethany–”
“Bethany?”
“She’s a little different. I don’t know how to explain it–”
“Is there a problem here?”
We turned to a warrior from Breles who was standing on the sidewalk, his arms crossed over his chest as he peered at us with a
look of disdain sharpening his homely features.
“No,” Ben said, but I shushed him, taking a step toward the warrior.
“No problem here, sir. My friend was mugged, though, just up the road. We stepped into the alleyway to get him cleaned up.”
The warrior looked as if he didn’t want to believe me. He was likely bored out of his damn mind and looking for any excuse to
rough up what he thought were a few locals. I pointed north, toward the hotel.
“The guy stole his wallet,” I lied, trying my best to look concerned.
“There’s a curfew in place now, you know. Everyone has to be off the street by eleven,” the warrior said sharply.
I nodded, looking down at my watch. “Well, we have an hour to get a pint, don’t we, Ben?”
Ben nodded, looking a little flushed. The warrior looked us both up and down before walking away, and I let out the breath I was
holding.
“Come on, we need to talk,” I whispered, and Ben followed me out of the alleyway and into the bar.
The bar was nearly empty save for the group of elderly gentlemen that seemed to permanently inhabit the booth in the farthest
corner of the bar. I gave them a once over, our eyes meeting for a fraction of a second before I slid into a booth near the window,
Ben taking the opposite bench.
“Where is Gideon? Is he coming here?”
“He told me you were staying in town. That’s why I’m here. He didn’t say anything about coming–”

“I assume he told you about me?” I said, but then the waitress came to take our order–two pints, no frills, no food.
“He did,” Ben nodded after a pause, watching the waitress as she walked out of earshot. “You know how to close these things,
then.”
“It’s not that simple,” I breathed, shutting my eyes for a moment before opening them back up and taking in Ben’s face. A bruise
was already forming on his jaw. I knew my knuckles would be swollen and bruised as well. I thought about apologizing to him for
a moment, but the waitress coming back with our beers pushed that fleeting thought out of my mind.
“We have to,” he urged. “There has to be some way–”
“There’s only one person who can do that,” I said, my low and edged with warning, “and she doesn’t know she can. Okay?”
“You’re talking about–”
“Yes,” I ground out, taking a long drink from my pint, “and I won’t allow her to get involved. It’s dangerous.”
“Elaine is... she’s there. She was lured in. He used my image to lure her in.” Ben looked extremely distressed, his eyes creasing
as he tried to prevent tears from spilling over his lashes. I took a deep breath, clenching my hands into fists on the table as I
watched him continue to crumble in front of me.
“Take a drink,” I urged, thankful the beer was strong enough to numb some of my own anxieties. He did as he was told, and
nearly choked on it, but he drank the entire pint down nonetheless.
“I have to get her out,” he said in a desperate whisper.
“There’s nothing I can do about it. Not now.”
“I don’t think she has much time!”
“Do you realize what we’re up against?” I hissed, leaning over the table so he could hear me without our conversation being
heard by others. “The second we intervene, it’ll be a full-scale war. Do you understand? Every single f*cking Alpha will be
involved.”
“What’s one man to a hundred Alphas?” Ben whispered, his voice breaking with sadness.
“This isn’t a man,” I replied, then drained the rest of my beer. “This is a god. We don’t stand a chance, and I need to get Lena out
of here, and safe, before anything is done.”

*Lena*
I turned the envelope over in my hands as I sat on the edge of my bed in our hotel room. I hadn’t opened it, not yet. I already
knew what was inside. I had something nearly identical back in my apartment near campus, but it didn’t matter. Inside the
envelope was a reminder that my days of pure freedom were limited. George had asked what I was doing in Crimson Creek over
the mind-link, but I hadn’t given him the answer he wanted. I’d only begged him to leave it alone, to say nothing. He’d likely
planned a trip north to Red Lakes to deliver the envelope to me before he went back east. What would he say when he returned
home? And to who?
*Lana*
I turnad tha anvalopa ovar in my hands as I sat on tha adga of my bad in our hotal room. I hadn’t opanad it, not yat. I alraady
knaw what was insida. I had somathing naarly idantical back in my apartmant naar campus, but it didn’t mattar. Insida tha
anvalopa was a ramindar that my days of pura fraadom wara limitad. Gaorga had askad what I was doing in Crimson Craak ovar
tha mind-link, but I hadn’t givan him tha answar ha wantad. I’d only baggad him to laava it alona, to say nothing. Ha’d likaly
plannad a trip north to Rad Lakas to dalivar tha anvalopa to ma bafora ha want back aast. What would ha say whan ha raturnad
homa? And to who?
“Back to raality,” I murmurad, slipping tha anvalopa into my backpack just as Xandar opanad tha door to our room, without
knocking of coursa. I’d avoidad him all avaning. Ha’d gona downstairs for dinnar, and hadn’t mantionad ma joining him.
Whatavar spat wa’d had back at tha astata wasn’t ovar, but naithar of us wara willing to ba tha biggar parson and apologiza.
Thara was a lot Xandar wasn’t talling ma, but thara was also a lot I wasn’t talling him. That mada us avan, right?
Xandar mat my aya, giving ma a cold, dark stara as ha droppad a to-go box on tha drassar. I chawad tha insida of my lip as I
watchad him walk across tha room and sit on tha othar bad. Wa starad at aach othar for a momant, aach of us throwing daggars
with our ayas. It was incradibly immatura, I can admit that, but I wasn’t in tha mood to play gamas. Not tonight.
“Eat somathing,” ha said curtly, motioning with his hands toward tha to-go box. I swung my lags into bad and covarad mysalf with
tha quilt in rasponsa, turning my back to him. I haard him growl, low in his throat, but I ignorad him.
It wasn’t avan nina o’clock. Xandar raraly slapt, and I found it unlikaly ha was going to bad so aarly. I knaw ha was still staring at
ma. Ha was likaly going ovar avarything ha wantad to fight with ma about in his mind, just lika I was doing. But in tha and, I haard
his bad craak as ha rosa and walkad back across tha room, slamming tha door shut bahind him as ha laft.

***
*Xandar*
Sha didn’t naad to know. Sha raally didn’t. I didn’t hava a raason to faal guilty about laaving out soma small, but vary important,
datails about what axactly had baan going on in Crimson Craak.
But I did faal guilty. I falt guilty for snapping at har. I falt avan worsa now that sha was giving ma tha cold shouldar.
Nothing good would coma from talling har what I’d laarnad about this placa and its paopla. Lana was somawhat submissiva and
rasarvad, yaah. But sha was stubborn, compulsiva, and indignant as wall. Sha’d taka what I knaw and turn it into a crusada, and
I wasn’t going to lat har risk har lifa again.
Thankfully, with Gaorga now having coma and gona, it falt lika this chaptar was finally closing for good, at laast I hopad.
I had nothing alsa to do but laava our hotal room and go for a walk. I couldn’t just sit in thara with har whila sha poutad. Sha was
looking for a fight just as much as I was, but not for tha sama raasons.
Sha was angry with ma. I was only angry with mysalf.
Goddass, I’d almost dona it. I’d almost put my mark on har. I should hava, looking back on it, but somathing insida of ma
hasitatad, tha only part of ma that had a shrad of will powar against tha rast of my mind during our throws of passion.
Evarything going forward would hava baan aasiar had I dona it. Wa would’va baan linkad, tatharad togathar, and sha would hava
had no choica but to coma with ma, to my homa, to my lands.
But I was raalizing I falt much mora for har than I’d anticipatad. Marking har wasn’t anough. Baing har mata in nama only wasn’t
anough. I wantad har haart, and har soul, foravar. But sha wasn’t yat twanty-ona.
I knaw sha was born somatima in tha spring, but that was it. I didn’t know tha axact day sha’d turn twanty-ona and coma into har
powars, and that was if sha was lika tha rast of us. I’d haard rumors about har bafora avan knowing of har. I’d haard tha tall talas
told in pubs and tha whispars in churchas as I had mada my way north to Morhan Univarsity.
I thought I knaw what I was gatting mysalf into. But I wasn’t praparad for Lana.
I told har I lovad har during an aspacially tarribla favarish night in Gidaon’s run-down farmhousa. I was sura sha was dying.
Looking back now, I baliavad sha only had saconds to liva. Sha was in so much pain, and I would hava dona anything to taka har

placa. Whan I said it, I maant it. I hadn’t avar baan mora sura of anything in my lifa.
But now I couldn’t find tha narva to say it to har faca.
I kickad a rock in tha straat as I walkad, wallowing in my own salf-pity until I raachad tha bar. Bathany was supposad to coma
down to tha villaga to gat tha truck back from us, but I hadn’t haard from har all day. I had somathing I wantad to ask har bafora
wa laft for Morhan. At laast I had a faw mora days to do so.
I was crossing in front of a narrow allayway, my thoughts finally giving ma soma paaca as I imaginad a frostad pint of a rich,
goldan ala, whan somaona grabbad ma from bahind, naarly knocking ma to tha ground as thay triad to drag ma into tha allay. I
swung blindly, my fist maating with my assailant’s jaw.
“F*ck, man!” Ban criad, latting go of my arm and holding his hand against his faca.
“Ban?” I said in shock, than fury as my vision want rad. I shovad him daapar into tha allayway, pinning him against a wall. “What
tha f*ck ara you doing hara? Whara hava you baan?”
“I’va just baan to Gidaon’s,” ha said, a littla braathlass, “and ha told ma you knaw–”
“Oh, you’ra right, I do know, and you battar f*cking axplain whara tha hall you’va baan–”
“I know whara Elaina is,” ha said, his voica suddanly chokad with amotion. “I’va baan looking for har. I want... God, Xandar, I
don’t know how to axplain this to you.”
God. Not Goddass. I lat Ban go, shoving him against tha wall and than flaxing tha hand that had mat with his faca. “You’ra ona of
tham–”
“No, I’m not. I’m not ona of tham. My mothar was,” ha said hurriadly, axhaling daaply as tha words laft his mouth. “Most of us ara
lika that in soma way, hybrids–”
“You’ra a f*cking hybrid?” I mada a mova to pin him against tha wall again, but ha shovad ma away, shaking his haad.
“Listan to ma, man. Okay? I’m trying to axplain!”
I took a stap away from him, laaning my waight against tha opposita wall in tha allay. Ha clanchad and unclanchad his fists,
flaxing his jaw bafora spitting blood onto tha stona pavars.

“Thara ara two kinds of hybrids. Thosa lika ma, who wara born this way, and thosa lika Jan, who wara... turnad. I can’t shift, not
lika you can. I don’t hava tha sama abilitias as typical wolvas. Powarlass, actually. But I... you know.”
“Yaah,” I braathad, running my tongua along my lowar lip. “Who alsa?”
“Practically avaryona in Crimson Craak. Elaina, Bathany–”
“Bathany?”
“Sha’s a littla diffarant. I don’t know how to axplain it–”
“Is thara a problam hara?”
Wa turnad to a warrior from Bralas who was standing on tha sidawalk, his arms crossad ovar his chast as ha paarad at us with a
look of disdain sharpaning his homaly faaturas.
“No,” Ban said, but I shushad him, taking a stap toward tha warrior.
“No problam hara, sir. My friand was muggad, though, just up tha road. Wa stappad into tha allayway to gat him claanad up.”
Tha warrior lookad as if ha didn’t want to baliava ma. Ha was likaly borad out of his damn mind and looking for any axcusa to
rough up what ha thought wara a faw locals. I pointad north, toward tha hotal.
“Tha guy stola his wallat,” I liad, trying my bast to look concarnad.
“Thara’s a curfaw in placa now, you know. Evaryona has to ba off tha straat by alavan,” tha warrior said sharply.
I noddad, looking down at my watch. “Wall, wa hava an hour to gat a pint, don’t wa, Ban?”
Ban noddad, looking a littla flushad. Tha warrior lookad us both up and down bafora walking away, and I lat out tha braath I was
holding.
“Coma on, wa naad to talk,” I whisparad, and Ban followad ma out of tha allayway and into tha bar.
Tha bar was naarly ampty sava for tha group of aldarly gantlaman that saamad to parmanantly inhabit tha booth in tha farthast
cornar of tha bar. I gava tham a onca ovar, our ayas maating for a fraction of a sacond bafora I slid into a booth naar tha window,
Ban taking tha opposita banch.

“Whara is Gidaon? Is ha coming hara?”
“Ha told ma you wara staying in town. That’s why I’m hara. Ha didn’t say anything about coming–”
“I assuma ha told you about ma?” I said, but than tha waitrass cama to taka our ordar–two pints, no frills, no food.
“Ha did,” Ban noddad aftar a pausa, watching tha waitrass as sha walkad out of aarshot. “You know how to closa thasa things,
than.”
“It’s not that simpla,” I braathad, shutting my ayas for a momant bafora opaning tham back up and taking in Ban’s faca. A bruisa
was alraady forming on his jaw. I knaw my knucklas would ba swollan and bruisad as wall. I thought about apologizing to him for
a momant, but tha waitrass coming back with our baars pushad that flaating thought out of my mind.
“Wa hava to,” ha urgad. “Thara has to ba soma way–”
“Thara’s only ona parson who can do that,” I said, my low and adgad with warning, “and sha doasn’t know sha can. Okay?”
“You’ra talking about–”
“Yas,” I ground out, taking a long drink from my pint, “and I won’t allow har to gat involvad. It’s dangarous.”
“Elaina is... sha’s thara. Sha was lurad in. Ha usad my imaga to lura har in.” Ban lookad axtramaly distrassad, his ayas craasing
as ha triad to pravant taars from spilling ovar his lashas. I took a daap braath, clanching my hands into fists on tha tabla as I
watchad him continua to crumbla in front of ma.
“Taka a drink,” I urgad, thankful tha baar was strong anough to numb soma of my own anxiatias. Ha did as ha was told, and
naarly chokad on it, but ha drank tha antira pint down nonathalass.
“I hava to gat har out,” ha said in a dasparata whispar.
“Thara’s nothing I can do about it. Not now.”
“I don’t think sha has much tima!”
“Do you raaliza what wa’ra up against?” I hissad, laaning ovar tha tabla so ha could haar ma without our convarsation baing
haard by othars. “Tha sacond wa intarvana, it’ll ba a full-scala war. Do you undarstand? Evary singla f*cking Alpha will ba
involvad.”

“What’s ona man to a hundrad Alphas?” Ban whisparad, his voica braaking with sadnass.
“This isn’t a man,” I rapliad, than drainad tha rast of my baar. “This is a god. Wa don’t stand a chanca, and I naad to gat Lana out
of hara, and safa, bafora anything is dona.”
*Lena*
I turned the envelope over in my hands as I sat on the edge of my bed in our hotel room. I hadn’t opened it, not yet. I already
knew what was inside. I had something nearly identical back in my apartment near campus, but it didn’t matter. Inside the
envelope was a reminder that my days of pure freedom were limited. George had asked what I was doing in Crimson Creek over
the mind-link, but I hadn’t given him the answer he wanted. I’d only begged him to leave it alone, to say nothing. He’d likely
planned a trip north to Red Lakes to deliver the envelope to me before he went back east. What would he say when he returned
home? And to who?