Lycan king's substitute breeder

Chapter four

Oregon: The heavy rays of sunlight and the loud chirping of chiffchaffs were what woke me up from the bed. My eyes opened, and it gave me a spark of dull red despite the green eyes I had. That was one of the features I had as the Lycan king. My eyes turn red whenever I want to shift or when I become very furious. I groaned and placed my arm against my eyes, hoping it would stop the harsh sunlight from peeking in. I was about to get another round of sleep when the door suddenly opened and a pillow was smashed on my face. Growling loudly, I sat upright, ready to face head-on with the instigator. When I saw my mother's angry face looking down at me, I sighed loudly. "Damn. What is it?" I complained bitterly, my eyes glaring at her. "Keep those nasty eyes down!" She yelled, and I rolled them, looking away quickly to avoid any more arguments. "Why are you here?" I asked. "You can't just barge into my room and charge right at me like that," I added with a serious tone. My mother, Laura, hissed deceitfully and sat down on the bed, beside me. I scooted a little, but she still moved towards me. I grunted and rolled my eyes, frustratedly. "Just tell me what you want already," I uttered. She sighed and gave me a sad look on her face like she was the innocent one. "When will you be looking for her?" She asked softly. Raising an amused eyebrow, I asked back. "Her? Who are you talking about?" "Your mate. When will you be looking for her? Don't you think it's time? Who knows, she could be near." Laura rushed her words. I could feel anger boiling inside me, but I managed to subdue it by folding my fists tightly and digging my long fingers into my folded palm, which was quite painful. "Mum," I called quietly, though the stare I gave her said otherwise. It was a despicable one. "What?" She asked me, muttering. This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"You know better. You ought to know better, Mum. You know that I don't want a Luna. I don't want a woman to rule with me. I can handle this pack alone." "I don't care if you can handle it alone. I'm not even talking about that. What I want is a grandchild. A baby to call my own and descendant. Is that too much to ask? Can't you just do it for me? Should I kneel and cry before you do as your mother wishes?" She asked, almost breaking down into tears. I jumped down from the bed and walked to my drawer, which I opened. I took a cigarette and a lighter. Firstly, I lighted the cigarette butt before placing it in between my lips. Carelessly, I dropped the lighter on top of the drawer and finally faced her. "I don't want a son, Mum!" I barked at her and gradually, the tears which were welling up inside her eyes escaped. "Why? Tell me why? Are you probably gay?" She stammered and slowly stood up. I saw how nervous and frightened she looked. I scoffed and puffed out smoke from my mouth. "I'm not gay. If I was gay, the first person I would have fallen in love with would be Stephen and it would be so obvious," I said and she hissed angrily. "Now, tell me. Why are you doing this? Why!" She yelled and wiped the tears off her face. "Listen to what I'm trying to say here, Mum. I mean to say that I need an heir and not a child. Furthermore, I don't care about showing fatherly love to some child who is mine. Who I want now is my very own male child who would ascend the throne and lead the pack after my demise," I said. "It's the same thing since I would still be getting a grandchild at the end of the day," She muttered, shrugging her shoulders. "As long as the child is from you, I'm glad. Since you don't want a Luna, I know what you need," She said with a smile on her face. I went to the center table and kept the half-burnt cigarette in the ashtray before facing her. She completed her words soon enough. "You need a breeder. Furthermore, you don't have to worry. I will get one of those perfectly fit, beautiful, and rich ladies out there to copulate with you and finally bear that male child for you." She said, and I nodded, quietly. "As you wish," I said softly, and afterward, she walked out, jumping happily. I simply shook my head. ******* "I heard," Stephen said, causing me to look at him properly.

"What did you hear?" I asked, watching him walk closer. He smiled at me and placed both hands on the desk where I was working. "Your mother is searching for a breeder for you." He said with an obnoxious smirk on his face. "Can't believe she already spread the word. Damn it! Why can't she just do something quietly?" I scowled and Stephen chuckled. "It's not funny," I said and tutted at him. I was about to return to the paperwork in my hands when I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I groaned bitterly and Stephen, who was already leaving, ran to me quickly. "Are you alright?" He asked with a concerned look on his face. I swallowed hard and nodded slowly. "I guess," A whisper escaped from my dry-looking lips. Stephen studied me for a while and shook his head. "It's very obvious something is wrong with you. What is it?" He asked me, bending his face over to meet my gaze. "I feel something is wrong," I said, admitting defeat. Stephen gulped heavily and grabbed my shoulder. "This should be normal to you. Having headaches again?" He asked and I quickly shook my head. "No, it's not me. It's my beast. Something is wrong with it," My voice drifted and his eyes widened. "Are you about to shift?" He asked, fearfully. I was slow to respond. "No. My beast is hurting," "Why?" Stephen asked, before raising his brows. He seemed to apprehend the whole situation. I looked at his face and I hurriedly understood why I was feeling that way. "My mate. It feels she's in danger or probably in distress and despair," I muttered and Stephen sighed. I groaned again, and my eyes gave sparks of red glow. "Are you sure you are okay and don't need to see the pack doctor?" He asked, his voice sounding very bothered. I clenched my teeth hard and shook my head vehemently, trying to soothe my exaggerating beast. "I'm not fine," I confessed. "What could be happening to her? And why is this suddenly happening?" I whispered, petrified because it was the first time it ever happened.