ALPHA KAEL'S BREEDER

AM NOT YOUR GAMMA OR BETA

Chapter 7

Aria's pov

I shouldn’t be here. It felt like I was sold off, just like a worthless object, by that insufferable stepmother of mine. I curled into a tight ball on the cold, hard floor next to an old bookshelf. The chill of the ground seeped into my bones, sending shivers through my body.

Why would he give such an absurd instruction? What could possibly be happening in this dusty library that he thought would be the ideal place to "fix" me? Each breath I took was a struggle, the air around me so frigid it felt like ice in my lungs. I glanced around the dimly lit room, my eyes finally settling at the far end. My gut twisted with recognition.

I muttered to myself as I fought to stand, my long gown trailing across the floor like a forgotten shroud. When I reached the wall, I examined it closely, my pulse quickening as I noticed a small red light blinking persistently in the shadows. What the hell is that? I shouted, my hands instinctively flying to my mouth to stifle my voice, frustration tightening my jaw.

“Yes, a damn camera is watching you.” The voice behind me froze me in place, a cold shiver running down my spine. I dropped my hand from my mouth and turned to face him.

I stood my ground, arms crossed defiantly, flipping my hair back with a flourish, my eyes blazing with anger.

“What were you thinking when you asked Daniel to bring me here?” Did you truly believe I would just vanish into thin air? Or maybe you want to watch me through your freaky camera to know if I will..”

I let out a harsh laugh, clapping my hands together sarcastically. Each step I took felt heavy with disappointment, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on my shoulders. “Did you honestly think I would steal from you? “

He remained silent, not acknowledging any of my accusations. Instead, he stood tall in the doorway, his grip tightening on the cold metal doorknob, an enigmatic figure against the backdrop of the dim library.

“Aria…” he wanted to speak, but I raised my hand, halting him mid-sentence.

“Aria isn’t a thief,” I said sharply, my voice reverberating in the dimly lit room as I closed the distance between us. My brows knitted together in frustration. Once I reached him, I crossed my arms defiantly beneath my chest, trying to shield myself from the weight of his presence.

“You’re no better than my stepmother. You think I’m just a worthless trinket to be bartered with. I guess I don’t have the right to make my own choices.”

He nodded quietly, the door clicking shut behind him as a faint, almost playful smile crept on his lips while he walked past me. I didn’t even glance in his direction; my gaze was anchored to the floor, filled with unbearable memories.

I took a shaky breath, my body trembling as the recollection of that desperate day swept over me—the moment I had pleaded with my stepmother to spare me from being sold off, the fear and vulnerability crashing down like waves.

“Know your place, Aria,” he said, his voice oozing with contempt, a calm demeanor disguising the venom embedded in his words.

“You speak as if you’re in control, barking orders like a madwoman, yet here you are—the most insignificant omega in the pack. Creatures like you shouldn’t even dare to stand before me.” Each word felt like a dagger, striking deep into my heart, leaving a profound ache in its wake.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, my heart pounding like a drum against my ribcage as the sting of his words sliced through the air. The sheer arrogance with which he addressed me was astonishing. “Sit on the library table,” he ordered, his eyes fixed on the pages of a book, his tone filled with a condescension that made me bristle.

My gaze narrowed into slits, and I crossed my arms defiantly, a hot wave of rebellion surging through me. “No,” I shot back, my voice steady and unyielding. I had no intention of obeying his commands like some subservient pet.

For a brief moment, his eyes flickered toward mine, a glimmer of amusement sparkling within them, as if my resistance was an unexpected twist in a game he was playing. In just two powerful strides, he closed the gap between us, and before I could muster a counter-defense, he scooped me up effortlessly. His grip around my waist felt like iron, firm and unyielding, and any attempt to squirm free proved futile. With a swift motion, he lifted me and deposited me onto the cold, polished surface of the library table.

As I sat there, my cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, he turned his back to me, striding over to a sturdy wooden box tucked in the corner of the room. He unlocked it with a practiced flick of his wrist, revealing a disarray of files and old folders spilling over the edges like a chaotic sea of papers. He rummaged through the contents and pulled out a hefty stack—at least forty pieces of thickly bound documents wrapped in elastic bands—and placed it decisively onto my lap. The weight of the files felt suffocating, but it was overshadowed entirely by the oppressive weight of his expectations looming over me.

Settling into a chair across from me, he spun it slightly, the legs scraping against the floor with a deliberate slowness. Staring at me with an inscrutable expression, he leaned back, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, analyzing me as if I were a puzzle he was desperate to solve. “What’s the meaning of this?” I demanded, my voice laced with venom, the fury of my indignation simmering just beneath the surface.

"You won't only be a breeder," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You'll also be helping me with pack activities. You'll wake up early every day to check on what's going on. And if you don't... I'll be thrown into the dungeon as punishment."

My eyes widened in outrage. "Do I look like your gamma or beta?" I asked, incredulity dripping from my voice.

He remained silent, turning his attention to the wooden cupboard in the corner of the room, its surface marred with scratches from years of use. I let the stack of files slip from my grasp, feeling the weight of them tumble to the floor with a resounding thud that echoed in the otherwise quiet space. His sharp glare met mine, the fire in his eyes igniting with a fierce anger that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Pick them up," he growled, rising from his chair. In a swift motion, he closed the distance between us and slapped me across the face. "I'm not here to act out dramas with you," he snarled. "Pick. Them. Up."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as pain bloomed across my cheek. I glared at him, but he seemed unfazed. Slowly, I bent down, my hands trembling as I gathered the files. As I stood up, I let them slide again, this time with more force. The sound of papers scattering across the floor was satisfying.

His face darkened, and I braced myself for another slap. But instead, he leaned in close, his breath hot against my skin. "You want to play it that way?" he whispered, his voice menacing. "Fine. Let's play."

I swallowed hard, my heart racing with anticipation. What game was he playing at? And what were the stakes?

With a flick of his wrist, he activated the camera's light, illuminating the dark recesses of the room. "Let's see how long you last," he murmured, his eyes glinting with challenge.

I lifted my chin, a spark of defiance igniting within me. Game on. Bring it on.