Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 551

Chapter 51 : Belle of the Ball

*Lena*

Mom spread the amber-colored gown over my bed, taking a step back to look at it fully. Her pale brown eyes moved over the glistening silk fabric, but her black brows knitted in frustration.

“No, not this one,” she murmured as she turned back to the wardrobe and began to flip through the assortment of dresses she’d packed for me before arriving in Avondale.

I was sitting at the vanity while a maid curled and braided my hair for the ball, the first event leading up to the wedding. My lowlights had all but vanished now, leaving nothing but a sheet of silver-white cascading down my back. I dusted my cheeks with blush while I watched my mom through the mirror. Her fingers settled on an ice-blue gown, embroidered with silver crescent moons. It had long organza sleeves, with a low back and a high neckline. It was one of my favorites, and most importantly, it would hide the half-moon scar Xander had left above my breast.

“Your dad wants you in the amber gown, but it just doesn’t work with your eyes,” she said in a low voice, almost to herself.

I smiled at her through the mirror as she pulled the blue dress from its hanger and laid it over the bed. “I like the blue one better. It’s a better fit. I can still wear my tiara and sash with it. Everyone knows I’m part of Drogomor, anyway,” I said playfully.

Mom gave me a sideways smile as she stepped away from the dress and made her way to the vanity, smiling gracefully at the maid.

“You can wear the moonstone and opal tiara your grandmother gave me.” She twirled one of my curls around her finger before pinning it in place.

My mother’s name was Hanna, and she was the daughter of Eugene, the Alpha King of Findali. But she hadn’t always held her titles. There’d been a time, twenty years ago now, when she was a troubled girl from Red Lakes, whisked away to Winter Forest when Dad was meant to marry my aunt Kacidra, instead of her.

But my parents had been mates, and the first year of their relationship had been marred by troubles I couldn’t fathom. Born during the war of my grandparents’ time, they’d be raised in peace, but when they were my age….

The maid took her leave. Mom started to rummage through the jewelry box on the vanity, pulling out a few dainty bracelets. I turned to look at her, admiring her long, ink-black hair that was braided and twisted into an updo. She rarely wore makeup. She’d never needed it; her face was always beautifully pink around her cheeks and her dark lashes brought out the color of her eyes.

Growing up, I’d longed for even an ounce of her beauty. Compared to my mom, and my aunts, I felt rather plain.

“Are you ready to get dressed?” she asked, and I nodded, but then went rigid beneath her touch.

“I can do it, Mom. You still need to get dressed too.”

I didn’t want her to see the mark. I hadn’t told anyone yet, even when Oliver prodded me for details and made fun of me for wearing a shirt over my bathing suit when we went to the beach last night to catch the sunset.

I was planning on introducing him to Abigail tonight. I’d secured her an invitation to the ball, and I knew for a fact she’d spent the majority of the day shopping for a dress.

“Well, we have about thirty minutes until we need to be downstairs to greet the guests,” she reminded me, then kissed me on the cheek.

I closed my eyes against her touch, smiling to myself as she pulled away and left the room. I glanced at my reflection once more, then padded across the carpet, lifting the blue gown into the air.

***

The ballroom was glimmering in the light of three crystal chandeliers. The whole place was dripping in gold as I walked around the room gripping a flute of pink champagne. It was too sweet for my taste, but so was everything else in the room. The cake table was stacked full, nearly toppling over with sweets.

I smirked as I saw the top of Hollis’s blonde head in the crowd, her mouth twisted in a beaming smile as the Alphas and Lunas from across the pack lands greeted her and bestowed their congratulations. Will was nowhere to be found, at least so far. I’d seen Charlie though, the most amiable of my cousins, and was pleased to indulge in some quiet conversation with him before the guests began to fill the ballroom.

This party, this ball, it was meant to be a celebration of the upcoming nuptials. It was one of three royal events that would take place before the wedding ceremony this weekend. It felt like overkill, in my opinion, but knowing Hollis and Will, I wouldn’t have expected anything less.

Through the crowd, I spotted the back of Eliza’s head, her black hair long and loose over her dainty shoulder. George’s sister turned to me as she approached, her green eyes widening as she took in my gown.

“I’ve been looking for you all night,” she beamed, taking my hand and squeezing it. “I thought you were supposed to be wearing the colors of Drogomor.”

“It’s not like I blend in,” I laughed, bringing the sickenly sweet champagne to my lips. Isla, the thirteen- year-old daughter of Beta Keaton, and his mate Myla, watched me with curiosity as I scanned the crowd.

“Who are you looking for?” Isla said with a tilt of her head. She had Keaton’s golden hair, but it was curly, and she favored her mother’s deep skin tone and dark eyes. Isla was going to be an absolute stunner in a few years. She was wearing an age-appropriate dress with turquoise ruffles, her hair woven through a tiara littered with sea glass.

“Oliver,” I replied, glancing between Eliza and Isla. “Have you seen him, Lizzie? I’ve been walking around the ballroom for the better part of an hour with no luck.”

“I haven’t, but I’m not surprised. This has to be exceedingly painful for him. I heard Hollis hasn’t even looked in his direction in the past several weeks, and Oliver has been having to run all kinds of errands with Will in preparation for the wedding.”

I grimaced, shaking my head. Poor Oliver–the love of his life was marrying his brother, and yet he’d still been happy and playful like usual. This entire situation made my problems seem small.

“Maeve said you’re sad over a boy. Is that true?” Isla asked innocently, fluttering her eyelashes. What was up with this younger generation? Luke had said something similar, but he wasn’t nearly as gracious about it. Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“What makes you think I’m sad?” I asked, wiggling my brows at her.

She giggled, but then snapped her head toward the end of the ballroom where her parents were currently making their way through the crowd.

“They’re here to send me to bed,” she said under her breath. “I’m gonna go hide–”

“I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you!” Lizzie cried, turning to chase after Isla.

I had been the babysitter of my younger cousins not too long ago, but that privilege had been passed on to the now eighteen year old Lizzie. I sighed, feeling a bit sorry for her before downing the rest of my

champagne as I started to turn about the ballroom once more.

No one other than my family members talked to me as I made my way through the party. People glanced in my direction, of course, their curious gazes taking in my white hair.

They didn’t look at me the same way they gazed upon my grandmother Rosalie. They looked at me with skepticism, obvious curiosity, and fear.

If Dad had ever been approached by another Alpha to ask about the possibility for my hand in marriage, he’d never said so. I found it unlikely anyone had, despite my incredible rank. As I turned the corner in the ballroom, walking past the sweet table once more, an Alpha actually moved his handsome adult son away from me, whispering frantically into his ear as they watched me walk past.

I ignored the stares, but that didn’t mean they didn’t hurt. I’d grown so used to blending in and just being normal, being me. Not Princess Selene.

“Lena!”

I turned my head to find Abigail standing toward the center of the ballroom, her face flushed from dancing. She waltzed over to me, doing a little spin in the emerald green gown she was wearing that hugged every curve of her body like a glove. The tops of her breasts were on full display, and I smirked as the group of young men she’d been talking to watched her walk away, their eyes wide and full of longing.

“Having a good time?” I grinned as she hugged me.

She was panting slightly, but her mouth twisted into a huge smile, nodding her head. “This is the best night of my life. I still can’t believe it. I honestly don’t know how you were able to keep this a secret for so long. Why? Are you not, like, proud of all of this?”

“Look around,” I said into her ear, “Do you see how everyone is looking at me? It’s like you think it is.”

Abigail saw the odd looks as people turned their heads in our direction, always looking away before I could catch their gaze.

“They’re intimidated by you–”

“They’re scared of me. There’s a difference. I’m supposed to be the White Queen one day, and no one looks to me as a leader. I’m a freak–”

“You are not a freak,” she said in a low, serious voice. “Goddess, Lena. Cut yourself some slack. You’re the most striking woman in this room. That Hollis chick has been glaring at you all night, trust me. You’re upstaging her.”

Good, I thought, but then felt a little mean. I didn’t dislike Hollis before, but I just couldn’t help myself now.

“Look, what if I stayed with you tonight, stayed by your side? I’ll fight anyone who even flashes a narrowed eye in your direction. What do you say?”

“I’m so happy you’re here,” I breathed, leaning into her for a moment. “But look, all of those guys are waiting for you to come back–”

She threw her head back and laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, them? Nothing but sons of Betas and warriors.”

“That matters?”

“Of course it matters!” she laughed, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “I’m surrounded by royalty, Lena. The least I could do is aim high. This might be my only shot.”

I knew she was joking, of course, doing her absolute best to get a rise out of me and make me smile.

“I met your cousin Charlie. Well, I saw him. That counts, in my opinion. He’s just as handsome as I knew he would be.”

“He’s not your type,” I said as a waiter passed with a tray of champagne. We each took a glass, turning back to look over the crowd. “I love him dearly, but he’s… too nice. He’d never challenge you, and you need that.”

“Hmm…. You’re not wrong. I do like a bit of turmoil from time to time.”

But she suddenly went rigid, her fingers grasping the champagne flute so tightly her knuckles turned white. I looked around, then relaxed my shoulders, giving Oliver a wry smile.

“Oliver, have you met my friend Abigail?”