The Alpha King's Breeder

Regrets

Brie

I can’t be your friend.

I lean my forehead against the railing, closing my eyes as I dangle my legs through the rails. What feels like fathoms below me, the ocean stretches toward the milky light of the last minutes of what had been the most spectacular sunset I’d ever seen in my life. Stars flicker into view overhead, nestled against a blanket of deep orange and crimson, and behind me, I listen to Sawyer and Logan pouring over a map spread out on a table bolted to the floor just beside the helm–the massive wheel used to steer a ship only a pirate would have.

Logan doesn’t want to believe we have, in fact, been thrust through time and now sail the open seas in the company of pirates. In his rational defense, I haven’t seen a single person with a peg leg, a parrot, or an eye-patch, so he’s probably right.

It’s a fun thought, though. I kick my legs, my bare toes chilled by the wind whipping into the sails as we practically fly over the water.

I like this better than the yacht.

“Why aren’t we cutting between these islands?” Logan asks nearby, his back bent and elbows resting on the table. “If the current moves between them, we can stay at this speed even without the sails aiding the engines.”

“It’s a narrow passage and shallow,” Sawyer replies. “We’d have to raise the propellers and coast at half mast–any faster and we risk running aground.”

“If my math is correct, which it is,” Logan says in a snarky tone that makes me smile despite myself, “it would cut the journey by ten hours. That’s significant. We’d be in Tempest Valley by tomorrow afternoon instead of the next morning.”

“Alpha Alex wants to stay the course. It's up to him.”

“Look,” Logan sighs, “all last night, Alex talked about the royal armada and how they’re waiting for us in open water, how they’ve been searching for weeks knowing you’ve been hiding out on one of the islands. You got fucking lucky you havn’t been found yet.”

Sawyer shifts his weight, crossing his arms over his chest. I risk peeking at them, pretending I’m simply resting my cheek against my shoulder, but seeing Logan all puffed up and… bossy… it does something to me. Something I’d rather not admit.

He presses a finger to the map, arching a brow at Sawyer in a silent challenge to argue his point.

“If they’re waiting for us where Alex says they’ll be, we’ll be trying to outrun them in the dead of night. It’ll be a new moon then, too, which means if it’s even the least bit overcast, we’ll have no light. If we take this other route, it’ll put us directly in the path of the reef you’ve all been boasting about. And if we get past the reef, we’re safe. Is that correct?”

Sawyer sighs again, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“Tell him, then.” Logan motions at Sawyer. “Tell him right now, through the mind-link.”

“You shouldn’t challenge an Alpha you’ve just met,” I say, rolling my head back to look at him upside down.

Logan frowns at me. “Would like to add to this conversation, Princess? Or are you happy eavesdropping?”

“I have nothing to add. I know nothing about boats and navigation.”

“Then butt out,” he says, each word clipped and firm.

I roll my head back, leaning my forehead against the railing again like a child who was just told to go stand in the corner after being naughty.

The boredom is starting to sink in. Without having Maeve’s day-to-day life and countless plots and schemes to worry about, I’ve found that I am more boring than I realized. I don’t paint. I don’t knit or embroider. I don’t know how to wield a knife to spar. I’ve been sitting around all day, kicking my legs, following Logan around like a lost puppy, and he’s been distant.

He’s lost that sarcastic, teasing edge to his tone. He looks at me like I’m the last thing he wants to see, always curling his hands into fists and acting like being around me is torture.

I understand why he’s upset. I didn’t believe him when he said something like this could happen. I’d been sure of my safety to the point I chastised him for being so up-tight and always in my space.

Now look at us.

“Alex said we’ll stop in the morning, at six sharp, and discuss the change of route then,” Sawyer says after several minutes.

“Fine,” Logan replies, annoyed, his voice dripping with exhaustion.

“I’ll take over the ship for a few hours,” Sawyer adds, but Logan shakes his head. “Just a few hours. You sleep, I’ll keep us on course. That’s what a second–what did you call it? Second captain? Is for.” He claps Logan on the shoulder hard enough the sound echoes over the flapping sails.

Logan almost flinches in pain from the injuries to his back but holds himself together, wincing only slightly as he shrugs Sawyer’s hand away.

“Second officer, technically,” he murmurs, eyeing Sawyer wearily before glancing at me. The bastard clicks his tongue at me like I’m an actual dog and tilts his head toward the stairs leading to the lower deck.

I frown at him but rise, smoothing my dress over my thighs. I keep my mouth firmly shut until we reach our room, and he shuts and locks the door behind us.

“I’m going to shower–” he begins.

“What’s your problem?”

Logan looks down at his boots, midway through running his fingers through his hair. He sighs heavily, looking down at me with an exhausted expression casting shadows across his face. “Where do I even begin?” he asks sarcastically.

“With me, specifically.”

He flexes his jaw. I watch as he starts to unbutton his shirt, his eyes holding on mine. “I don’t have a problem with you.”

“You’re acting like you do. You wanted me to be on the deck, so I spent the entire day near you, and you barely said a word to me.”

“I was busy captaining a ship we’re not supposed to be on because you should be in Maatua by now, and I–”

“Should be on your way to Emberfyll,” I cut in hotly, the emotions I’ve been holding in all day simmering to the surface. “Right. I get it.” I brush past him, grabbing a nightgown I left on the bed and balling it between my hands.

“Brie–”

I pause in the doorframe of the bathroom but keep my back to him.

“Brie,” he repeats firmly, but his tone is thick.

“What?” Everything I want to say–that I want to ask–nearly brings me to my knees. “I just–we kissed. Things feel weird now.”

“I know.”

“You kissed me and acted like–like I offended you in some way.”

His eyes are like green gems in the fading light of the sunset. “You didn’t offend me.”

“Then what is this?” I ask, waving to my chest like he could possibly understand the feelings currently raging through me like a firestorm. Doubt. Confusion. The startling, unspeakable realization that I’ve made a terrible mistake and likely ruined my life by rejecting him. “I don’t understand. I–” I bite back my words before I say too much.

He can’t feel the same way I do. He can’t regret rejecting each other like I do. He can’t. A man like him wouldn’t go for someone like me–someone boring. Someone plain. Someone who got us in a terrible situation because I can’t fathom a situation where I’m not right. Someone without powers who can’t offer him more than–

“Don’t you dare look at me like that,” he says heavily, his clipped words bringing me out of my mind and back into the present in an instant.

“What?”

He points an accusatory finger at me. “That. That expression. I never want to see it again.”

I run a hand over my pinched brow, trying to relax my muscles. “I–I don’t know what you’re talking about–”

“What were you just thinking about?”

“Logan–”

“What,” he breathes, losing his patience, “were you just debating in your head, Brie?” He takes several steps in my direction before stopping short, his shirt half-unbuttoned and hanging off one shoulder. He looks… incredibly disheveled. Like he’s on the verge of shifting or losing his mind entirely. In fact, I’ve never seen a man so undone, so raw. His eyes are wild with emotions I can’t define, and his jaw is set, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides.

I swallow hard, teetering on the precipice of making a fool of myself. I wanted this. I wanted to break my bond with him. I had a reason to do so, but now… after everything….

He sucks back a breath before saying, “When we return to Eastonia, are you still planning on marrying an Alpha?”

“What are you asking?”

Logan edges toward me, holding out his hands in surrender. “Are you still planning on marrying an Alpha?”

“What does that matter?” I ask, sniffling. “Of–of course I am. I have to!”

He shakes his head. Goddess, he looks angry. “What are you trying to tell me, then? Are you asking why I kissed you? Covered you with my scent? Are you asking why I balked when you told me we were friends? Because I doubt you’ll accept the answer.” His voice is a growl that laces through my body, making my skin pebble.

“Why would you do that? To–to tease me? To make some point–”

“Isn’t it obvious? Or are you so lost in your own head that you can’t see what’s right in front of you?”

I stiffen, taken aback by his tone. “I don’t understand–”

“Have you ever looked in a mirror?” he asks, taking another step in my direction. “Do you not see what I see when I look at you?”

“Don’t do this to me,” I whisper, my chest going so tight I can’t breathe. I wait for the inevitable–for him to say I’m plain, that I’m boring, that I have nothing to offer because that’s all these men have ever said to me. It’s all the tabloids ever say, although they’re far more colorful in their choice of words when comparing me to my family members.

“You are stunning,” he says slowly, almost painfully, gritting out the words through clenched teeth. “Just–beautiful.”

“You don’t have to say that to me–”

“Someone needs to,” he cuts in sharply. “I’ve listened to you berate yourself, tear yourself down to make yourself smaller, and I can’t fucking take it anymore, Brie. I can’t do it.”

We stare at each other. I’m not sure what this feeling is, this overwhelming sensation that’s been plaguing me all day. His scent is everywhere, driving me absolutely out of my mind. I want to hate him. I want to push him over the railing of the ship. I want to never see him again, but the thought of a life without him in it, annoying me, constantly in my space, arguing with me… it hurts. It has hurt since we rejected each other.

“Do you want to know the truth?” he asks hotly, his eyes wild and full of emotion I can’t put into words. “I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I’ve been thinking about it since the moment I saw you in your parents’ breakfast room. I’ve been wondering what it is about you that has infected my mind and turned everything I knew about who I am, and what I want, inside out. I thought rejecting you would end this suffering. I thought it was the mate bond, Brie. Remnants of it that were left behind when I pushed for the rejection–”

“You didn’t push me. We both wanted it–”

“We made a mistake,” he says firmly, clearly, each word clipped and exaggerated. “I regret it.”