Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 5 : First Day

*Sasha*

Steam rolled past my waist from the resting train engine as I stepped down onto the platform… if it could be called

that. “Platform" seemed a bit grand a word for the wooden, rustic landing at the side of the tracks.

I'd never been this far to the edge of the capital in the north country. There was a barrier ahead of the train here,

which made me realize the train would now have to back up and turn around. This was the very last stop, where

civilization ended and the wilds began.

There was a town here, though. And for it being so far from the capital, it was actually pretty big. I'd expected I'd

be able to see the library build site from where I was standing, but no such luck.

I took three steps down onto a gravel road, the air crisp and invigorating as I walked. As I got deeper into the town,

with quaint little houses and shops, saw some streets were actually now being done over in cobblestone. Progress

kept going everywhere, it seemed.

Following my instincts, I weaved my way through town. The streets curved back and forth, not set out on a grid like

the city. Where they wanted a house or a shop or even the town hall, they'd plopped the building and then made

the road come to it. It was incredibly frustrating, and I got turned around more than once.

I swore I passed the same dressmaker's shop six times before I found a path I was sure of, a path leading out of the

maze. A path…

… leading straight to a river.

I checked my watch and groaned. It was already seven-twenty. I was supposed to be at the work site at seven-

thirty. I'd hoped to be early, but now I was going to be late.

A sweet smell wafted on the wind, and I turned back toward town. This time, I followed my nose and my grumbling

belly to a bakery, where the baker was just setting breads and sweets out in the shop cases.

“Are you open?" I asked hopefully.

The baker looked up and smiled. “Well, hello, city stranger. If you're paying, I'm open."

“Great," I said, fishing in my bag for coins. “I would just die to have one of those cinnamon twists."

“Good choice," the baker said, pulling one out of the case with thin wax paper. “This is my grandma's grandma's

recipe. Family secret, you know." He winked.

I took the twist and handed the baker some coins, breathing in the sweet smell before diving right in. I was

ravenous.

The baker chuckled. “Hungry?"

I blushed and wiped a crumb off my cheek. “Sorry," I said. “I was so nervous about my first day of my work-study

that I couldn't bring myself to eat before I came. Then I smelled your lovely shop and I felt like I was starving."

“Work-study?" the baker asked.

“Yes," I replied, “only I'm bombing it already. I can't find where they're building the library."

“Ah, well, good thing you stopped in," the baker said. “I know where it is. You take that street there, take your first

left, your second right, and follow the road to the edge of town. You can't miss it–huge bloody thing. I don't know

why we need that monstrosity, when the last library was serving us just fine." He tapped his chin. “But then, if it

brings people out to see it, I wouldn't mind some more city folk coming here and buying me out of stock."

“I want to buy you out of stock. These are delicious!" I licked my fingers. Perhaps it wasn't the most ladylike thing

I've ever done, but I didn't want to miss a crumb.

The baker reached into the case again and pulled out a lemon tart. “For the road," he said, and shook his head

when I tried to pay him. “Just tell all your friends about Lakemeadow Bakery, especially those at the construction

site."

“Thank you," I replied, tucking the paper-wrapped tart into my bag. Then I checked my watch again. “I've got to

run, literally. But I'll be back tomorrow!"

“I'll hold you to it," the baker said.

I ran out the open front door of the shop and out into the street, just as the town around me was coming alive. I

had to weave my way around some disgruntled pedestrians, sprinting as fast as I could.

Scaffolding and part of a thick sandstone wall met my gaze as I reached the end of the road. Breathing hard, I

stopped beneath the scaffolding and checked my watch.

Seven-thirty exactly.

“Hey!" a gravelly voice shouted. “Hey! No one comes on site without the proper protective equipment!"

I looked up to see an older man with a sour expression leaning over the edge of the scaffolding.

“Sorry, sir," I said, holding my sides. Moon Goddess, I'd never been this winded. “I just arrived. I'm the new work-

study intern. If you could just direct me—“

The man hopped down. “Cutting it a little close, aren't we?" he grunted.

I blushed, though I was sure I was already red-faced from the mad dash I'd made to get here. “Sorry, I… got lost."

The man nodded to the papers peeking out of my bag. “You didn't think to look at the map?"

There was a map? Embarrassed down to my toes, I opened my bag and began shuffling through the papers. I'd

been so focused on the designs....

The man sniffed the air. “Say, is that one of Jay's lemon tarts?"

I looked up from my search. “Yes, sir."

He grinned. “I'll trade you a lemon tart for not chewing your ass out. I'm the foreman, you see."

My shoulders sagged with relief and I handed over the lemon tart.

I swore the foreman's eyes rolled back in his head as he took the first bite. “Alright. Safety equipment is over there.

Let's get you fitted for a hard hat, shall we?"

In short order, I had an orange helmet on and was making my way to the small trailer the foreman had pointed out

as Lucas's office.

I thought of just walking in, as he'd done at my dorm, but I decided to be the bigger person and knocked.

“Come in." Lucas's clipped tone made me hesitate.

Drawing on my stoicism, I opened the door.

Lucas didn't even look up. He was standing over his desk, hair ruffled as though he'd been raking his hands through

it, staring down at the library plans.

“What?" he asked in a grumpy tone.

I pushed my hair behind my ear. “Lucas… uh… Mr. Black… I'm here for my work-study."

Lucas looked up then with raised eyebrows. Then he grinned. “Mr. Black. I like that, Miss Wentley."

At least I hadn't called him “sir." I'd been raised to be polite, but there was not a popsicle in a crock pot's chance I

was calling Lucas Black “sir."

“Is there someplace you want me to start?" I asked.

“Yes, actually," Lucas said. He gestured for me to join him behind his desk.

I squeezed in what little space there was between him and the wall and looked down at the plans in front of us. “Are

these the old library's blueprints?" I asked, confused.

Lucas nodded, his shoulder brushing mine as he pointed to a specific spot in the middle of the first floor.

“There's something here that shouldn't be there. As we were digging up the old foundation, the ground gave way. It

could have killed someone, honestly. We're not sure how wide or deep it is, but there's definitely a hole big enough

here that it should have been marked on the original plans. Now, unless I'm losing my mind, I'm not seeing anything

marked here on the original blueprints, are you?"

I looked over the blueprints slowly, but then shook my head. His citrus and rosewood scent was filling my nose, but I

pushed the lightheaded and fluttery feeling it conjured aside and concentrated on business. “I don't see anything,

sir." Oh Goddess damn it, I'd just called him sir....

Lucas lifted a curious eyebrow and smirked.

He then leaned over the desk next to me to read some handwritten scrawl on the edge of the old blueprints.

The heat from his body radiated in the space around me, and my breath caught in my chest as his arm pressed

against mine. “Uh… Mr. Black...."

“Only something about needing an extra window on the south side," Lucas muttered, ignoring me. “You'd think if

there were a big damn hole in the middle of construction, they'd have mentioned it."

“Maybe they didn't know it was there?" I suggested, my voice breathy. I cleared my throat as Lucas looked at me. “I

mean, they could have put the foundation down, and then over the years, water might have done its job and made

some underground cave erode up closer to the surface."

“Hmm. Good point," Lucas said, nodding as he looked back at the plans. “In any case, we need to see how this is

going to affect construction."

There was another knock at the door, and Lucas cued the person to enter.

In came the foreman. He was about to open his mouth when he blinked at Lucas and me. “This looks cozy," he

commented, eyeing our shoulder-to-shoulder position.

Lucas stood up, shooting him an impatient look.

“Did you need something, Reece?"

“Right… I'm about to send a man down with a flashlight to see what we're dealing with."

Lucas nodded. “I'd like to be there to get the firsthand report."

“Thought so. That's why I came to get you and Lemon Tart," Reece the foreman grinned.

Lucas's eye twitched at the nickname, and it looked like his smile became more plastered on than genuine. “'Miss

Wentley' will be coming with us."

The foreman shrugged. “You're the boss." He turned to lead us out of the trailer.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I pushed away the nervous energy that seemed to be building around us. I

clipped along at Lucas's heels, trying and failing to match his long strides until we came to the hole in question.

The hole looked more like a cavern. It was nearly impossible to think that any foundation could have stood on top of

it.

There was a rigging over the hole with a man strapped into a harness, his orange helmet fixed to his head and a

flashlight the size of a femur in hand.

“Ready, Herb?" Reece asked.

“Ready," Herb grunted.

Two crewmen began lowering Herb down into the darkness.

The glow of his flashlight soon came back up through the hole, along with the most colorful swearing I'd ever heard

in my life.

“What is it?" Lucas asked, going to the edge.

“A f*****g temple is what it is," Herb's voice filtered up.

“You've got to be shitting me," Lucas growled.

“Honest to Pete, it's a damn church, a whole damn church," Herb said.

I went to join Lucas, peering down into the darkness. I watched as Herb grabbed something.

Then the ground shook.

The edges of the foundation we stood on gave way beneath our feet, the crewmen and the foreman jumping back

as the rigging began to fall.

It wasn't the only thing falling. I screamed as my footing slipped, I tried to jump out of the way myself, but I just

couldn't gain traction in time to get clear. Icy fear gripped me as I prepared myself for the inevitable fall to my

death.

Before I could whisper a prayer, strong arms grabbed me from behind and hauled me the rest of the way back.

My helmet fell off backward as my face pressed into a strong, muscular chest. Lucas's arms were tight around me,

one around my waist, the other cradling my head against him. I took a moment to realize I was alive, listening to

the rapid staccato of Lucas's heartbeat as it matched my own.

“Are you okay?" His whispered voice was raspy as it ghosted into my hair.

I nodded, gripping his shirt as though it were the center of gravity. I was plastered against the most handsome,

most annoying man I'd ever had the misfortune to know. I could feel the eyes that witnessed the near fall and

rescue beaming in on us, and I didn't care.

I just didn't want him to let go.