Sold To The Alphas I Hate novel Chapter 98

Chapter 98: Kael And Eira

Kael’s POV

With everyone else gone, I was left alone to watch over the house—and her. Sitting on the sofa, I continued my work from home, juggling meetings and the rest of my tasks while keeping a careful eye on her through the wall-sized glass window.

She remained on the lawn, Vixen lazily curled at her side, while Fluffy darted around in playful circles. She sat there like a still point in the world, unmoving, unbothered, as if time itself had no hold over her.

A thought struck me. Maybe years locked in small rooms, denied the world outside, had shaped her into this. She could sit in the same spot for an entire day, unaffected—not just physically, but mentally too. Nothing seemed to disturb her.

I had been furious when I learned she had a mate and a child. The twenty-four hours I spent locked in my room—what I endured alone—was unbearable. A living hell. If I had stepped out, I wasn’t sure what I might have done to her.

How could she even dare to have a mate when....

I forced myself to swallow every bit of that hellish rage I was feeling towards her.

It’s alright. Once I find that bastard, tear out his heart for daring to make her his mate, for daring to touch her... everything will be alright. All I have to do is kill him. Then she will have no one else but me. Us.

Her child? We’ll deal with that once we find him.

And after watching that video of her abuse, all that anger faded into nothingness.

Her reaction after watching her own video, I wasn’t sure whether it was good thing that she didn’t react or it was worrisome. Maybe, I should consider Liam’s suggestion of getting a psychologist for her.

When my last meeting ended, I looked up at the wall clock. It was lunchtime. I hadn’t even noticed how the hours had slipped by while working and keeping watch on her.

After years, I finally stepped into the kitchen to prepare a meal. Since I’d brought my mate brothers here, Jason had taken over the kitchen entirely. I hadn’t needed to cook at all.

Still, I knew the skills hadn’t left me. I remembered my mother enjoying whatever I made. She herself was the best cook, and my father and I loved everything she prepared. Despite our wealth and having servants, my mother preferred to cook herself. It was more than food—it was her love, her way of showing care for us.

I used to hover around the kitchen whenever my mother cooked, slowly picking up her skills. Over time, she even began teaching me herself. I could still hear her words in my mind:

"A man should learn to cook so he can make tasty meals and please his mate whenever she’s angry. It’s the easiest way to reach her heart."

I used to smile at her and dream about having my own mate, imagining a life like my parents’—a happy family.

My mate? What a cursed fate I had.

So, I decided long ago that I didn’t need a mate. I wouldn’t have one—ever.

But now... things were changing. Slowly, in a direction I had never imagined, not even in my wildest dreams.

Dreams. I hadn’t had any for years now. All I had were the hellishly torturous, sleepless nights I had endured alone for the past six years.

After giving a thought, I decided to cook something my mother loved, thinking that if every woman liked it, she would too. Spicy penne with tomato sauce, a hint of wine for depth. My mother had loved it.

Maybe, today, I’ll get to hear her cursing again. Better than seeing her quiet and lifeless.’

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