Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 247

Chapter 27: Do What You Must

Keaton

Robbie rolled the cigarette between his fingers in the shelter of his coat, tucking it behind his ear as we watched the rusted fishing boat approach. I gave Robbie a look, tilting my head toward the vessel.

“Looks like only a fishin’ boat, Cap.”

“Aye, but in such shallow waters, and in this storm?” I turned my head to look back at the shore of the small cove that was currently our refuge from the raging open waters. Rain was pounding the decks, bouncing off the wood panels and rolling off the sails above our heads. The thick trees hanging over the sandy cliff face were inundated with rain, their thick leaves hanging toward the murky green water.

“She’s headed right for us, Cap.”

I sighed, smacking my lips and pushing away from the railing, giving the approaching ship one last look before clapping him on the shoulder. “Guess we’ll see what her crew wants then, shall we?”

I descended the stairs to the lower deck, nodding at my crew as I passed them. We were anchored, the sails drawn in and the crew at leisure, at least for the moment. We would not be docking in Valoria tonight, not with twelve-foot swells preventing us from crossing the channel.

Young Pete stood at the lower railing, watching the ship with a pair of binoculars as it rocked in the waves, “They’re dropping a rowboat!” His voice was edged with excitement as he leaned over the railing.

“You’ll fall in,” I said, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him off the railing. “That’s a right way to die, lad.”

“I was just-” He paused, forgetting himself. “Yes, Captain.”

I patted him on the chest and turned toward the railing, watching as three men began to battle the waves in the small skiff, their oars beating helplessly against the unforgiving sea.

“No shifting on the boat, remember?” I turned to Young Pete, the newest member of our crew. He nodded, his head bobbing up and down as he did so. He was just a pup, really, freshly twenty-one and full of the angst and adrenaline all young men possessed when they finally came into their powers. I never took pollywogs so young, but Pete had nearly begged on his knees for the opportunity.

Looking for his mate, most likely. What better way to find a mate than by mopping floors on a smuggling ship for a few months?

I turned to Robbie, my second in command. He was leaning on the railing, watching the three men struggling to close in on the Persephone.

“Should we go out and help em’,you think?”

“No,” I said dryly, wiping rainwater from my brow. “We’ll only lower the ladder for them when they get close.”

What in the hell did these three fools want?

It took them nearly an hour to reach us, all of them red-faced and steaming with heat when they finally climbed over the railing and put their water logged boots down on the ship.

An older man stepped forward, breathing heavily as he reached into the pocket of his coat. He was an “Old Salt,” someone who had been working on ships for the majority of his life. He walked like it, talked like it, and had the signature deep tan of someone who spent their days working in the salty, harsh reflection of the sun coming off the water.

“I don’t think so. pal.” Robbie drew a long knife from his belt, holding it out in front of him. The two younger men who had accompanied the old man on the trek shifted uncomfortably, wariness etched across their sunburnt faces.

“Mean you no harm,” the old man said as he pulled a damp parcel out of his coat, holding it up in surrender. “Someone paid a pretty penny to have this delivered to you in this shitstorm.”

“Aye, would you look at that? It’s only the post.” I took the parcel from the old man as I looked around at my crew, who were standing in a semicircle around the three men. Muffled laughter rang out, drowned out by the rain. “Take the boys to the galley, feed em’,” I said, motioning to my crew.

The old man nodded to his companions to heed my orders and they reluctantly followed the crew through the wide doors leading to the lower levels of the ship. I motioned for the old man to follow me to my own quarters.

“Quite a place you got here,” the man said, looking up to admire the murals painted on the ceiling of my spacious lodgings. His eyes danced over the gold painted trim and ceiling-high bookshelves. “First editions?” he asked pointing to a glass-covered section of the bookshelf.

“What kind of pirate would I be if they weren’t?”

The man chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve heard things about this ship. I assumed it was all an exaggeration. A real pirate ship on the seas, huh? You don’t exactly blend in.”

Chapter 27: Do What You Must

“Aye, I know who you are. One of the port master’s runners, are you?

He nodded, tilting his head toward the parcel. “He said a young man came into the pub in the early evening asking about the Persephone, when you’d make port. Paid a steep price to have one of our

ships come out in the storm to find you. I thought you’d be waiting in open waters like the rest of the ships, waiting for the storm to roll inland.”

“We rode in with it.” I answered, using my fingernails to open the soggy parcel. There was a paper napkin inside, crumpled and the ink smeared but still legible I held it up to the light. “How long ago did the man write this, exactly?”

*Not but four hours ago.”

I stood, hands trembling slightly as I folded the napkin and put it in my pocket. It was from Troy. He was asking for us to wait in Valoria for him. He had written the first part of the note in clear, neat print.

But a second note, scribbled almost illegibly at the bottom of the napkin, was written in panic, the pen he had used poking holes and dragging the fibrous paper in some spots.

Damian’s fleet is here. They’ll make port by tomorrow morning. They plan to invade. Don’t get involved, cut your engines and stay hidden. Stay in the waters off Valoria and I will come to you.

“Let me show you to the galley. You and your men can stay the night-”

William shook his head, tilting toward the door leading out of the captain’s quarters. “I gotta get back before the dock is swarmed with the delayed boats. I’ II let em’ eat then we have to go.”

I nodded, thankful they would take their leave. Troy never acted out of panic, never. He was as level- headed as they come. Something was about to happen though; I could feel it coming through the words in his note as I read them.

I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out a small sack of coins and gems, picking a few coins out of the purse as I stood, dropping them into William’s open palm.

I followed him out of the captain’s quarters in silence, shielding my face from the rain with my hand as he walked across the deck and through the doors leading down to the galley.

Once William disappeared behind the doors, I motioned to Robbie, who was still standing near the railing, watching the fishing vessel rock in the waves roughly a half mile from where we were anchored.

He followed me back into the captain’s quarters where I quickly locked the door behind us, squeezing the water from my hair as I took a seat behind my desk once more.

“Change of plans,” I said quickly, reaching for and unrolling a large map of the coast of Valoria across my desk.

Robbie leaned against the desk, looking down at it.

“We are moving further inland.”

Inland? How?” Robbie peered at the map, his brow arched as he followed my finger along it.

“This is likely an estuary. We anchor here, and this river here,” I pointed, running my finger along the river’s winding form, “meets up with the Great River of Valoria, here.”

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“We’re not going to the port.” I said quickly, reaching into my desk for the box of stick pins and marking our route. “We’re going to send out two skiffs, one to the port and one up river.”

“Does this have to do with the man-”

“Troy is in trouble somehow. He didn’t elaborate. Something about Damian and his fleet-”

“Damian’s fleet? What the hell does he need a fleet for?”

I looked up at Robbie, my face giving away the answer.

“No,”

“Yes, he means to invade.”

“I thought that was just a rumor.”

“Well, it was. For years, if I remember correctly.” I scratched my head, pulling Troy’s note from my pocket and handing it to Robbie. “I’m guessing he saw the logs from the port master. They have an entire day’s worth of scheduled ships stuck beyond the channel while this storm pushes inland.”

“But, how would Damian get his entire fleet through the port without raising questions from the Alpha of Drogomor and his warriors?”

“He likely has only one ship scheduled to make landfall, Robbie. Troy must have seen the log when he was searching for the Persephone. It’s a decoy ship, no doubt.”

Robbie leaned back, his wide, thickly bearded face drawn with confusion. “How did we not know about this? I thought the plan was to pick Troy up two weeks from now, after we return from the next port.”

“Damian didn’t tell us for a reason. He will know we were scheduled to be docking in Valoria, however. That’s why we need to stay hidden. His ships won’t come this far east to look for us, as long as we keep our engines off so they can’t pick us up on their radar.”

“Full sail then, eh?” Robbie’s mouth twitched into a smile as I nodded, excitement bubbling to the surface of my consciousness.

“Have a skiff dropped, send two men to the port. Once there, have them keep an eye out for Troy. I’m not sure if he’ll make it to the port if Damian is able to push through the storm. In that case, he’ll use the

river as his guide to get to the sea. We ride full sail to the next cove and anchor, and send another skiff up the river.

“And if we run into Damian’s warriors?” Arlo narrowed his eyes.

I could see his desires behind his gaze. It had been weeks since any of the crew had been able to shift. He was anxious, full of pent-up energy.

“You do what you need to do, Arlo, you and the rest of the crew. We are not part of Poldesse. Troy is who we are fighting for. Do what you must.”