Volumn 2; Breeder for the White Queen

Chapter 1: The Breeder’s Daughter

Maeve

I cannot believe this is the man whose baby I’m supposed to carry.

Thick droplets of rain rolled down the glass as I looked out the far window, my eyes fixated on the lazy patterns of moisture they left in their wake.

I was sitting at one end of the long, immaculately set table in the dining hall like I had done every evening since setting foot in the Alpha’s castle three months ago, my plate barely touched and my wine undrunk.

It was no fault of the kitchen, nor that of the servants who had spent their entire evening dressing the table with steaming platters of food. No.

I had a challenging time staying awake during dinner, in fact, forever lulled into half-slumber by the incessant dry conversation taking place on the far end of the table.

Oh, Ernest

He looked every ounce the Alpha, especially with his black hair swept away from his face and his blue velvet dress shirt glimmering in the light from the chandelier above our heads. He was rather handsome too, if one can say such things about a cousin. I can only say so because, well, Ernest and I look a lot alike.

We had the same large blue eyes and high cheekbones, the same sharp nose and wide, full mouth. He was dark where I was fair, however, myself having inherited my mother’s softly curling strawberry-blonde hair and freckled skin.

Ernest’s physical familiarity had been a comfort upon my arrival in Mirage. Seeing him standing on the terrace, his hand resting on the balustrade and head tilting slightly to the side as he watched me approach reminded me so much of my father. So much so that at first, I thought it had actually been my father standing there, looking like the Alpha he had once been.

But Ernest lacked my father’s brooding nature and practiced calm reserve. He lacked the sharp-witted sense of humor and soft smile that made his blue eyes crease at the edges.

Ernest, although brimming with the features of my father’s family, was nothing like them. Not in the slightest. He was a bore.

A terrible, terrible bore.

And I was stuck with him.

“Did you say something?” I asked, not looking away from the window.

There would, of course, be no reply. Ernest had said something. He hadn’t stopped saying something. He had a strange habit of talking without ever shutting his mouth long enough to hear anyone else speak. He even answered his own questions, and gave himself advice, as though he were talking to an apparition seated at the table next to him, not his only dinner guest down the length of the table. I couldn’t stand it.

And for the first time in my life, I felt utterly and completely alone.

In all my time in Mirage, we had barely had a conversation outside of business, what our future held as dual rulers of the pack. I would be Luna, he would be Alpha. I would give him an heir, forever cementing our family’s stronghold over the Eastern Territories. I would remain in Mirage until that child was grown, and then would have the freedom to return to my birthplace to eventually lead the Winter Forest pack.

He had become king of Valoria when his parents, Talon and Georgia, decided to retire. They deserved a break after all of their yeats of service to the kingdom.

Ernest was nothing like either of his parents, and I had no idea how that had come about.

Two cousins on the throne was unheard of, of course. I had refused the first time my father told me of the agreement

that had been made between Pack Diegomor and Pack Winter Forest But I eventually understood the importance and complexity of my situation Enest couldn’t have children, and he had been unsuccessful at finding a mate to rules beside him. I was the only female of the generation in our family, titleless until my own mother died or stepped down from her position. My mother was still young, I had time to assist the family in other matters

And in this case, the assistance needed was a body to carry the child who would eventually unite the packs of the Eastern Territories into one.

I was that body

“Send Rowan!” I had protested, jutting my chin toward the ceiling and crossing my arms over my chest in dehance as my father explained the situation.

“And what good would that do, Maeve? Should I have him kill my nephew and take the title from his cold, dead hands? What do you think would happen to the treaties, hmm? Think logically-”

Ah, the treaties. How could I forget, especially since my parents’ shenanigans before my birth had required such treaties to be created in the first place?

Oh, yes, the infamous Ethan and Rosalie had created quite a mess back in their youth. But it was peacetime now, and they meant to keep it that way.

I fought them nonetheless. Everyone said Ethan had met his match the day I was born. Even my mother, whom he doted on endlessly, could not achieve the emotional rise I could get out of him..copy right hot novel pub