The Alpha King's Claimed Breeder

I always despised Fridays. It was an odd feeling, knowing that most people eagerly awaited this day to spend time with their loved ones and relax for the weekend. But for me, it meant something completely different. The last Friday of the month always brought a sense of dread, as I knew what was to come. With the full moon in the sky tonight, the markets would be filled with frenzied werewolves, preparing for the Crimson rituals. The streets would be chaotic and dangerous, as these creatures reveled in their primal nature under the moon's hypnotic spell and It was not advised for anyone to be roaming the crowded places at night if they weren't a fully realized werewolf shifter, like me. I tried to quell the ache that formed in my chest at that thought yet again.

I'd been thinking about that a lot lately.

"I'm leaving now, Freya, it looks like it's about to rain. Try not to stay long okay?" Morgan, a coworker at the villa where I worked, called out to me.

"Uh.. I'll be done in a short while Morgan. Stay safe!" I responded and continued my work.

After several minutes, I hastily gathered my bags and the stained sheets that I had been using as my makeshift canvas all day. It was time for me to leave the villa where I worked as an assistant cleaner. This job was my safe haven, a place where I could escape the chaos of the outside world. The owner of the villa was a well-connected magistrate with ties to the Alpha and his royal family. That's why he rarely visited the villa himself. Our only responsibility was to keep the place spotless for his occasional visits. We were free to do as we pleased otherwise.

But at home, it was the complete opposite. After my mom passed away, my father had taken another woman as his partner and he suddenly cared less about me. He cared more about his wife and stepdaughter who never passed up the opportunity to make my life a living hell. My father always told me I was only being mistreated because I was still wolfless at my age which is not a normal thing. Since I turned 16, the year when every teenager became a full werewolf shifter, I haven't been able to transform into my wolf form. The worst thing that could happen to any werewolf was being wolfless. It felt like the essential part of your existence did not exist. There was this constant hollow deep down in my chest and sometimes I wondered if I would ever be a true werewolf. I often wondered what my animal skin would look like. Would I be white or black? Or brown? I guess I would never know.

The rain fell relentlessly as I hurried home from the villa. Icy drops stung my face and soaked through my jacket, chilling me to the bone. I cursed myself for not listening to my coworker when she had warned me to leave before the storm hit.

Now, scurrying through the empty streets, her words echoed in my mind. The road to my house was utterly deserted, windows shuttered tight against the wall. Everything was so quiet except for the drumming of the rain and the squelch of my boots in the mud.

I held my bags close to my chest and quickened my pace, my heart thudding painfully. Home wasn't far now. Just a few more blocks and I'd be safe inside, windows closed and the door bolted...

A sudden rustling sounded behind me, barely audible over the downpour. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Slowly, I forced myself to turn around and stare into the darkness.

Nothing. Just the deserted road glistening wetly in the lamplight.

"Get a grip, Freya," I muttered to myself, shaking my head. "It's just your imagination playing tricks."

But as I faced forward again to resume walking, I couldn't shake the prickling sensation on the back of my neck, the uncanny feeling of being watched. Of no longer being alone out here in the dark and the rain.

Swallowing hard, I broke into a run, my bags banging against my legs as I ran for home, praying I was just being paranoid. Praying it was all in my head. Because in this town, you never knew what might be lurking in the shadows. And you never, ever wanted to find out.

My lungs burned and my legs ached as I ran, but I didn't dare slow down. The weird feeling of being pursued only intensified with each splashing footfall. I risked a glance over my shoulder and my blood turned to ice.

Something huge and dark was bounding after me, closing the distance with terrifying speed. A scream rose in my throat but got trapped there, choked off by sheer terror. "I see you little girl" I heard an eerie whisper. The hairs on my neck tangled up in terror.

Faster, I had to run faster! But my feet tangled together and I went sprawling onto a bunch of logs, my bags flying. Winded and stunned, I rolled over with a gasp.

The beast loomed over me, its terrifying form blacking out the lamplight. A werewolf, covered in shaggy black fur. Razor-sharp teeth gleamed as its lips peeled back in a snarl. It probably knew I was wolfless and could not fight it. Oh my God..

I opened my mouth to scream again but only a strangled croak emerged. This was it. I was going to die here, torn apart by a monster, my blood mingling with the rain. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the killing blow.

But it never came. A thunderous roar shook the air and the weight of the beast vanished from my chest. My eyes flew open again to see an even larger wolf, more massive than the first, barreling into the black one in a furious tangle of fangs and claws.

They rolled across the street in a vicious blur of combat, snarling and snapping. The big newcomer seemed to have the upper hand, using its superior size to pin the black wolf down. I heard the snap of bones, a high yelp of pain. The black wolf struggled frantically, but the larger one was too strong The larger wolf stood victorious over the smaller one who was whimpering painfully, chest heaving, his huge form dark against the stormy sky. Power rippled through every line of its body, raw and barely contained. I could feel the force of its presence pressing against my skin like a physical thing. I didn't know how I could feel his sheer strength, but it was happening. His aura all but encompassed me, forcing me to want to go closer to him.

Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet, never taking my eyes off the beast. I knew I should run, but fear and fascination stopped me in place. Some primal part of me sensed that this was no ordinary werewolf. The energy crackling around it was ancient, almost god-like in its potency.

As if drawn by my gaze, the wolf's head swiftly turned in my direction. Even through the gloom and rain, I could see its eyes - twin pools of blood red, boring into mine with laser intensity. The breath seized in my lungs. I felt stripped bare, my soul laid open and vulnerable beneath that hard stare.

Time seemed to stop, the world narrowing down to that single burning point of contact. The wolf's eyes held me in thrall, drowning me in depths of wildness and something else I couldn't name. Something almost... human.

A flash of lightning shattered the moment, jolting me back to myself. Gasping, I wrenched my eyes away from the wolf's, a scream building in my throat. I whirled and ran, not daring to look back. I raced through the empty streets, the wolf's presence searing my back long after I left it behind.

My mind whirled as I ran, trying desperately to process what I'd witnessed. The first wolf had almost killed me but somehow, impossibly, I'd been saved. The huge wolf couldn't have known me, but he had saved me. It still felt surreal.

My mind cleared as I reached the familiar premises of my house. The lights were turned on, signaling that people were inside. I sighed as trepidation washed through me. It was time to face the nightmare I called family.

The front door creaked open, announcing my arrival home. My heart sank when I saw Kelly at the bottom of the stairs, wearing a dress that wasn't hers. That dress was mine. More than that, it was a piece of my soul, the only memory I had of my mother before she died. I can still clearly recall the time when my mother fell ill. It all happened so quickly, and I was too young to understand what was happening. My father didn't seem to care much, and whenever I asked my mom about it, she would brush it off and tell me not to dwell on it. She insisted that everything was fine, but deep down, I knew it wasn't.

As I looked at Kelly, my anger surged. She had altered the dress in ways that completely changed its style. It had been a long gown before, but now there were cuts and additions that made it almost unrecognizable. My blood boiled as I realized that she had ruined something important to me.

"Kelly," I said, my voice trembling with emotion, "that's my dress. You have no right to be wearing it."

Her lips curled into a sneer as she looked me up and down. "Oh, this old thing? It's not like you ever wear it. Plus, it looks way better on me." Growing up, my step-sister Kelly had always been distant and cold towards me. I never understood why she seemed to hate me so much. My father had married her mother when I was only 12 years old, and Kelly was a year older than me. Despite the fact that we were now part of the same family, she never treated me like a sister. Instead, she made it clear that she despised my presence in her life.

Anger surged through me, overriding any sense of caution or restraint. "You went into my room and took it from my private luggage! How dare you!"

Kelly scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "You're just jealous because you know I'm right. You've always been so possessive of your things, Freya. It's pathetic."

"Enough!" I shouted, unable to contain myself any longer. But as if on cue, our parents walked in, their expressions a mixture of surprise and disapproval.

"Girls, what is going on here?" my father asked, his brow furrowed.

"Freya's just throwing a fit because I borrowed a dress," Kelly answered with feigned innocence, her eyes wide and guileless.

"Is that true, Freya?" my stepmother asked, eyeing me with skepticism.

"Mom gave me that dress before she died," I whispered, trying to hold back tears. "It's all I have left of her."

"Freya, we've talked about this," my father said, his voice strained. "Your mother is gone, and we need to move forward. It's just a dress. Kelly is your sister and you must treat her as such."

"But--" Before I could respond, my stepmother's hand came down hard against my cheek, the slap echoing through the room. "How dare you speak like that to your sister!" she hissed, her eyes cold and unforgiving.

"Elaine," my father interjected weakly, but she cut him off with a glare.

"Your daughter needs to learn some respect for her family," she spat, turning back to me. "You will not cause any more trouble with Kelly, do I make myself clear?"

Numb from the shock of her slap, I could only nod, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

"Good," she said, her tone icy. "Now go to your room. And prepare our dinner very soon!"

As I turned to leave, my father caught my eye. For a moment, I thought he might say something in my defense, but instead, he just sighed and looked away. My heart sank as I realized that he would never stand up for me, not when it came to his new wife and her daughter.

The door to my room slammed shut behind me, and all the emotions I'd been holding back came flooding out. Sobs wracked my body as I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow. Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't my mother still be here, to hold me and tell me everything would be alright?

In between gasps for breath, I whispered into the damp fabric, "Mum, I miss you so much. I didn't even get to say goodbye properly. They took your body away to the morgue before I could see you one last time. It's not fair."

I knew that life was never going to be the same after Mum's passing, but I never imagined it would be this painful, this lonely. As the tears continued to stream down my face, soaking the pillow beneath me, I made a silent promise to my mother: I would find a way to be strong, even if it meant facing the cruelty of this new family alone.

The door creaked open, and the unmistakable sound of Kelly's high heels clicking against the hardwood floor made my stomach churn. I quickly wiped away the last remnants of my tears and sat up, bracing myself for whatever cruelty she had come to inflict upon me.

"Freya," she drawled with a sickeningly sweet smile. "Since you're not doing anything useful right now, I've decided that you can wash my bags and clothes for me." She tossed a pile of designer clothing onto my bed, wrinkling her nose as if my room was some sort of repugnant dungeon.

"Excuse me?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the anger bubbling inside me.

"Did I stutter?" she retorted, her smile morphing into a sneer. "Wash them. And do it properly, or else."

"Or else what?" I challenged, tired of being pushed around.

"Or else," she leaned in, her eyes flashing with malice, "I'll make your life even more miserable than it already is. Trust me, I have ways."

"Fine," I muttered, clenching my fists at my sides. "I'll do it."

"Good," she said, smirking triumphantly. "By the way, I'm auditioning to be one of the Alpha King's breeders. Can you imagine? Me, with all that power and prestige? It's going to be fabulous. Oh, and Mum asked you to prepare our dinner. Make it delicious will you?"

With that, she sauntered out of my room, leaving me fuming at the injustice of it all. As I stared at the pile of expensive clothes on my bed, a spark of determination ignited within me. I couldn't take this anymore – the humiliation, the constant bullying, the feeling of being trapped in a house where I was unwanted and unloved.

I tried to take my mind off of everything and made my way to the kitchen as it was up to me to prepare dinner for the family. I didn't have a problem with this because I loved cooking. It was one thing from my mother that stayed with me till now.

Before cooking, my father and Elaine always asked me to brew them a cup of green tea first so that was what I began with. I carefully selected the finest green tea leaves and brewed a pot of fragrant tea.

Just as I was about to start cooking, there was a knock on the kitchen door.

"Who's there?" I called out.

"Delivery. I have a package for your father." I paused my cooking and made my way to the door. The delivery man smiled at me excitedly, I forced a tight smile on my face.

"You look radiant this fine evening, Miss Freya," he commented, his gaze raking over my body. He had told me he liked me the first time he had delivered a package for my father and since then I had told him I was not interested in him.

"What are you delivering?" I avoided his compliment and took the boxes from him without hesitation.

"Some foreign device from the viscount." He handed me a paper. "He has to sign this document though. The agency ordered me to get his signature before leaving." He said. I took the paper warily. This was a first. Maybe the contents inside the box were peculiar and they had to be sure it would be seen by my father only. I nodded and took the paper.

Father was in his office so I went there. Just as I was about to knock on the door, I noticed it was slightly ajar and I could hear voices. I paused, curious. I knew I wasn't supposed to listen in but I couldn't help it. I pressed my ear to the heavy door, straining to make out the hushed voices within Father's study.

"... needs to be taken care of immediately," Elaine was saying, her shrill tone unmistakable. "That wealthy merchant, Mr. Gladwell. He's expressed interest."

"Surely we can wait another year or two before-" Father protested weakly.

"We can't afford to wait!" Elaine snapped. "Your debts are piling up. Marrying her off is the only way because it is not certain Kelly will capture the king amongst other ladies. We can't put all our hopes on her alone. Unless you want to lose everything?"

A long pause. My heart pounded against my ribs. Father sighed heavily.

"Very well. I'll make the arrangements. Freya will wed Mr. Gladwell... in two days' time."

No. This couldn't be happening. Bile rose in my throat as I backed away from the door, hand pressed to my mouth. Hot tears pricked my eyes as I fled down the corridor, nearly tripping on my skirts. How could my Father agree to this? I didn't bother returning the letter to the delivery man.

I ran back to my room. I couldn't stay here any longer. I would never marry a horrible old man.

Wiping my eyes, I hardened my resolve. I had to escape. Tonight. Before they could steal what little choice I had.

If Kelly could audition to be one of the Alpha King's breeders, then so could I. It was a desperate plan, and I knew that there were risks involved – but anything would be better than living like this. For the first time in a long time, I felt a glimmer of hope flicker in my chest.

"Alright, Mum," I whispered, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "I'm going to do it. I'll find a way out of this house, out of this life. For both of us."

As I began folding Kelly's clothes, preparing them for the wash, I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be free from her and my stepmother's tyranny. No matter what it took, I vowed to make that dream a reality. I would find my way to the palace and join the audition.