Descendants of the Breeder: Pregnant with Four Alphas' Babies Vol. 2

Another Alpha?

*Trisha*

I follow the Alpha Heir—Damon, he said his name was—down a few blocks and over several more, far from where I’d been looking for a hotel. I guess I was really on the wrong track.

We stop at a place that looks really nice—and expensive—and his Beta opens the door for both of us, eyeing me with a smirk for some reason while we head inside.

Damon walks up to the front desk like he owns the place, which I suppose he does being heir to the Alpha King’s throne.

“Set up—” He stops and looks at me. “What’s your name?”

The lobby is fairly crowded, so I decide to stick with my fake name. I kind of like it anyway. “Daphne,” I say. “Daphne Spruce.” I have no idea what this Daphne’s last name is supposed to be, so I catch sight of the label off a scented candle, and that’s the first thing I come up with.

“Set up Ms. Spruce in a good room,” Damon says.

“Right away, Alpha Heir Damon,” the man behind the counter says, clicking away on his computer screen.

“Put it on my tab.”

My mouth falls open, and I turn to Damon to complain, but he and his Beta are out the door before I can get any sound out of my throat. I’d be a little angrier about once again being rescued by a gorgeous man like some helpless damsel in distress if not for the sadness I’m feeling as I notice his scent fade away.

I don’t have much time to think about it before the man at the front desk is already handing me a key card. “Room 452, Miss Spruce. The elevators are on your left. Let us know if there’s anything you need,” he says.

“Thanks.” I suppose. I take my bag up to my room, figuring I can probably use a more thorough shower after all that time on the ship where the restrooms weren’t very private, so all I could manage was a quick sponge bath here and there.

The hotel shower feels heavenly, and I’m glad for the little bottles of shampoo and conditioner so I don’t have to use up any of my own stuff. I really don’t know how long I’ll be here, or when I’ll even think about going home, so I need to use my supplies sparingly. It turns out to be awfully nice shampoo provided by the hotel.

Except that it smells like apples.

I get into some fresh clothes, blow-dry my hair, and sit on what turns out to be a very comfortable couch. But I didn’t travel all the way across the ocean to sit in a hotel room. I need to figure out my next step. The two ways I’ve been ‘guided’ so far, for lack of better description, are through dreams and a connection with the forest. I’ve seen enough of this city to know that I’m miles from a forest, and I’m way too wound up to sleep. I’ll need to see if I get any dreams later, but right now, I could use a bite to eat.

Downstairs, it’s too late for the restaurant, but the bar is open, and from the sound of it, things are getting rowdy. That sounds like fun.

I see him immediately as I walk in. It’s hard not to. The whole bar seems to have their undivided attention on the blond sitting at a table right in the middle. He’s just as good looking as Damon, in a different way. He’s not half as stiff and serious as Damon seemed to be, laughing and joking with group of guys around him.

A whole group of women stand on the periphery, refilling his drink. They’re laughing along with the men’s jokes, but the blond seems to be ignoring them.

It seems like he’s downing one drink after the other. I wonder why he’s not getting plastered at that rate, even though we can handle our alcohol really well as wolves. I can see why as I pass closer and notice there’s no alcohol scent at all. But I do smell strawberries everywhere, so it must be fruit juice or something.

It’s obvious by the way they’re all swooning that he could have any one of these women, or all of them even, but none of them even try to get close because he never looks their way.

I walk past him and up to the bar where I sit on a barstool. I’ve barely sat down before I smell the strawberries again and feel someone plop into the stool beside me. I turn, and it’s the blond. For the first time, I catch sight of his eyes that look like emeralds.

We look at each other for a few more minutes than is comfortable, but for some reason, I can’t turn away.

“You don’t live here,” he finally says.

“What?” I was so lost in his eyes I barely knew he’d spoken.

What’s wrong with me?

“Oh, no, I don’t,” I say.

He laughs. “From the looks of it, you’re not from around here at all.”

I furrow my brow. “How did you know that?”

He makes a gesture toward my clothes. I look down, realizing for the first time that the styles are a little different here in Green Mountain. It’s not a huge difference. In fact, it would take a pretty keen eye to notice. But clearly, those emerald gems are good for a lot more than just mesmerizing people.

“It’s okay, though,” he says. “If you don’t want to advertise it, I won’t say anything.” He looks at the bartender. “Drinks for the lady, whatever she’s having.”

“I was just getting something to eat, and I can pay for it,” I say. “Thank you, though.”

He shrugs. “Just being gentlemanly.”

“I like to take care of myself.”

He puts his hands up in a mock surrender. “Fair enough.”

I order a few snacks that look good enough to get me by as well as a soda. I don’t want to drink any alcohol since it might mess with the messages in my dreams. As I’m waiting, he orders some snacks for himself. I guess I made him hungry with the idea of food.

After a few minutes, the bartender gets me a bowl of pretzels and my soda, and the blond guy—I realize I still don’t know his name—gets some beer nuts.

I glance back at the table he just left. A few of the women have sat next to the other guys that are there, throwing exaggerated laughs and touching them whenever they get the chance. But a couple of them are staring daggers at me.

I chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“I think your girlfriends are a little miffed,” I explain.

“They’re not my girlfriends,” he says roughly. His eyes change a little like he’s surprised he just said that.

“Oh, it looked like most of them would rather you not sit with me.” I pull my eyes away from the women and look down at my drink.

“That’s their problem,” he says, taking a bite. “So, what’s your name and where are you from?”

I laugh. “You’re straightforward, aren’t you? I’m… I’m Daphne. And I’m from pretty far from here.”

“Pretty far from here, huh? Where is that?” he asks, but it doesn’t seem like he’s expecting an answer. “I’m Braden.”

He reaches out his hand to shake mine, and I take it, trying to be polite in this place where I don’t really belong.

But his touch—it’s like lightning strikes me. Well, maybe not that intense, but a tingling sensation jolts through me the minute his fingers are around mine. I don’t want to let go, and I don’t want to look him in the eye because I know I’ll burst into a blush. But he’s not letting go of my hand, either.

Finally, he does. I stand to leave, almost involuntarily. I have to get out of there, and at the same time, something inside me screams at me to stay. I don’t like the feeling. It’s like I’m out of control.

“I’d better get going,” I say quickly.

“But you haven’t eaten your snack,” he says.

“I just… I need to leave,” I say. “It was nice meeting you, Braden.”

I dig through my bag to get some coins, but before I have a chance, he tells the bartender to put it on his tab.

“I can get this,” I insist.

“Not while I’m here and can get it for you.”

I look at him for a moment and remember I have to get out of there. I’m not even sure why.

I practically run to the elevators, cursing all these good-looking men and their broken doors and bottomless tabs and weird, wonderful scents.

***

*Braden*

“Not sure what that was about, Alpha,” the bartender says. “I can have some snacks sent to her room.”

I nod, still watching until she turns the corner toward the elevators. She’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Her long raven hair is a mess of curls, and all I want to do is run my hands through them while tasting her lips.

I shake my head once her scent, like a field of wildflowers, finally leaves the room.

Now that she’s gone, I feel a little differently, like a spell has been broken or something. I’ve met a lot of beautiful women in my life, but I’ve never been left so affected by one before.

I look at the bartender. “Do you know where she’s from?”

He shrugs. “Alpha King Heir Damon paid for her room. He didn’t say anything about her, and I, of course, didn’t ask.”

Damon—for a split second I feel a twinge of jealousy, but that disappears as fast as I can recognize it. Is she his mate? I don’t know how or why, but I’m not really bothered by it if she is, and that’s a weird feeling. Something isn’t right here, and I need to know what it is.

I gather a handful of beer nuts and stand. “Yes, have a meal sent to her room. It looked like she skipped dinner. On my tab again, of course.”

“Yes, Alpha,” he says.

I head out the door to find Damon. I know he’s here in Oceanside City instead of in his castle in Westmont since Alessandro is back, and I need to ask him about Daphne and figure out what the hell is going on.