Rejected by the Dark Lord(Breeder#6)

moon goddness
first love

He trailed his fingers along my skin. I sucked in my breath, a desperate moan escaping my lips. He stole the sound with another kiss.

Every part of me begged to become his.

“Eliza,” he whispered, resting his forehead against mine. “I’m a Dark Lord. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes but I’m not afraid."

“I could hurt you,” he said, his gaze dangerous. “I will hurt you.”


After hearing tales of Dark Realm my entire life, I took the opportunity to explore it first-hand.

Being abducted? Sold as a breeder? No big deal if it was how fate brought me and my mate together.

But little did I expect, what I got for my love was his cruel rejection.


“Eliza, please. Come back to me. I've restored our matebond!”

His eyes bore into mine. I leaned into the kiss he planted on my lips.

The irresistible pull toward him was there again as strong as ever, but I managed to push him away.

“No." I looked into his pleading eyes and forced my voice to stay calm, "I, Eliza, now reject you as my mate!”

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Chapter 1 : Bidding
Breeder Season 6 - Rejected by the Dark Lord *Eliza* I blinked into light so bright it was impossible to clear my vision. My head was throbbing, and I reached back to feel along the base of my skull where dried blood was caked into my thick, dark brown curls. Every movement of my body sent a sharp ache shooting down my spine. The slightest touch of the fabric of the dress I'd been made to wear set my skin on fire. Nausea roiled in my stomach, but I found it impossible to swallow. Everything was too bright, too loud, too much. The clink of coins… the smell of sour, bitter ale… low, grisly voices dripping with violence and hunger–that was all I could hear, and as my eyes began to adjust to the lights about my head, all I could see was the silhouette of the crowd. Men huddled around bar tables. Women walked between them, dropping pitchers of ale so carelessly in front of them that foam spilled over the rim of the glass. It smelled like smoke and mildew, and my stomach lurched as another chill ran down my spine. Where was I? How had things gone so awry? I could barely turn my neck without pain, but a movement a few feet from where I stood caught my eye. Another woman stood nearby, her body bathed in dusty, amber light. “Three healthy sons," came a male voice, a voice I immediately recognized. It belonged to the same man who had given me the injury on the back of my head. I closed my eyes, flinching away as he moved out from behind me, his voice booming over the muffled chatter enveloping the room. “A professional, you could say." A professional what, exactly? I painfully turned my head to look at the woman through my lashes, noticing her expressionless face. Murmurs erupted through the crowd as the man made her do a twirl, showing her off. Her dress didn't leave much to the imagination, but neither did mine. I looked down at the scrap of fabric that barely covered my body, the strips of white, thin cotton that hung loosely from my shoulders and fell over my breasts. Under this light, every inch of me was exposed to the hungry gazes in the crowd. “The bidding starts at twenty–" Bidding? Noise fanned out over the crowd before the man could finish. People yelled. Some argued. I turned to the woman and noticed her eyes shining with nervous pride. I'd been so distracted by the scene unfolding before me that I hadn't noticed my captor had moved behind me once more until one of his hands tangled in my hair, pulling roughly so I was forced to tilt my chin toward the ceiling, blinded by the light once again. His other hand clasped my wrists together behind my back and pulled my arms down so I had to bend back toward him, my breasts raised and on full display. I yelped in pain and surprise as he forced me to walk forward to the very edge of the stage, his fingernails digging into my skin. “Virginal," he hissed loud enough to send an echo across the now quiet room. Tears welled in my eyes as I panted, my arms trembling with the strain of having them held so violently behind my back. “Untouched. You could get three, maybe four pups out of her before she's worthless." What? My heart was beating so rapidly in my chest that I found it hard to catch my breath. Virginal? Three or four pups before I was worthless? Rage ripped through my fear as I took a shuttering breath. I'd graduated two years early from the University of Mirage's prestigious history program with a dual major in archeology, for Goddess' sake. How the hell how I ended up here, being measured by nothing more than my ability to bear a child? 'Take a deep breath, Eliza,' I told myself. 'You're so much stronger than this.' But when I did, it was nothing but ripe, bitter air. A murmur ran through the room as the patrons of whatever seedy tavern I was in considered me, juggling their coins in their hands. My captor chuckled low in his throat as he started to bunch the fabric of the flimsy white gown over my thighs, revealing the paleness of the skin there. I felt tears roll down my cheeks, despite my will to keep my eyes from watering. He was hurting me. “What's the starting bid?" someone shouted from the crowd, which was followed by shouts of agreement. My captor let my dress drop back to my knees, releasing his tight hold on my hair. “One hundred," he grinned, and if I had the strength to look up and peer into his eyes, I knew I would have seen greed there. But I had no desire to see this man's face. I didn't want to remember him at all. I kept my eyes downcast on my bare feet, curling my toes against the dry wood of the stage as the shouts echoed from the crowd, numbers reflecting my supposed worth being flung in a chaotic fashion, showering me with shame. But I swallowed back my fear enough to peer through the loose strands of curls that were falling over my face, long enough to see a tall, golden-haired man rise from his seat and slam a bag of coins down on his table, which effectively silenced the room. “One thousand," he said, his voice echoing through the tavern. Every fine, downy hair on my body stood on end as the hush reached the stage, sending a chill up my spine. I knew of breeders. It hadn't been so long ago that a great aunt had been offered up as such, sold by her own father. But she hadn't been sold at an auction, no. This was… archaic, primitive… disgusting and depraved. I blinked through tears as I slowly raised my head to look into the eyes of the man who'd bid a small fortune on my body. I couldn't see his face through the smoke-filled darkness, but his voice was strong, hearty, dripping with both honey and venom. I knew without a doubt that this man was an Alpha. He'd either be my savior, or my demise. But, what did I know? It was my own miscalculation and romantic notions of adventure that had put me in this mess. This place, this realm…it wasn't my own. I was entirely in over my head. A thundering sounded in the crowd, and then I was roughly pulled from the stage and shoved down a short flight of stairs. I cried out as I fell to the bottom, my knees scraping against the uneven and cracked stone pavers lining a narrow, ill-lit hallway. I'd just been bought. I'd been sold as a breeder. Before I could come to terms with what had happened, I was shoved down the hallway and into a dark room, the door slamming shut and locking behind me. *** Moonlight crept through the gaps in the boards covering a single window that was my only source of light. I paced, wringing my hands as I deliberated my next move. Escape was impossible. I'd already tried the door. My nails were cracked and bleeding from trying to loosen the wooden boards covering the window. I was resigned to throwing myself on whoever came through the door next, then bolting, running as long and as fast as I could to any kind of safety I could find. But I was hurt. I was dressed in nothing but a thin, skimpy white dress. If I had escaped, I would have died of exposure before I was caught. This wasn't how I thought things would go. My once-in-a-lifetime journey had ended in peril, and I could only blame myself. I cursed under my breath, running my hands over my face as I rested my back against the wall, letting myself crumble, but only for a second. There was a chance the man who'd bought me would be kind and loving, right? It had worked out that way for others, I was sure. I knew that for a fact. But something about his voice when he gave his final, astonishing bid had my teeth on edge, my skin crawling with discomfort. “You need to get out of here," I breathed, reaching deep into my mind to try to connect with anyone from my pack, from my family, who might be within range to pick up my desperate attempt to mind-link. It was no use. I was not home anymore. No, I was in the Dark Realm. I was thousands of miles from safety. My head was pounding as I dropped to my knees and pressed my forehead into the floor. I was freezing, my skin pebbled and pale in the soft moonlight drifting through the boards on the window. “Goddess," I breathed, “Please...." The door swung open and I lifted my head, staring at the shadowed figure taking up the doorway. “Get her up," he said sternly, and I recognized the voice as the man who had bought me. I flinched away, pressing myself into the cold stone wall as two men stepped forward and tried to roughly drag me toward the door and to the man who lingered just across the threshold. But then there was an echoing thump on the other end of the room. It was the window. Something was throwing itself onto the window with enough force to shatter the glass and cause the boards to groan against its pressure. The men holding my arms halted their progress toward the door, letting me go long enough for me to drop back to my knees and crawl away. One of them grabbed my ankle and pulled me across the floor, my fingernails digging into the stone as I yelled in frustration. I screamed in earnest as the boards covering the window shattered into shards of dried wood and showered me in splinters and broken glass. I covered my neck as the men behind me stuttered and scrambled out of the room, yelling profanities as they pushed and shoved into the hallway. A rush of frigid air wafted over me. I turned my head enough to gaze over my arm at the now open window, just as wolves began to leap into the room, their jaws snapping and teeth bared. Well, this was how I would die. I was sure of it. It felt like a waste, if I was being honest. I'd made it this far on what I thought was going to be a journey of a lifetime, only to die in a frigid room full of wolves. My ill-fated adventure into the unknown would end on a tragic note. There was a scuffle happening in the hallway. Men had just started coming through the window, trailing behind the wolves. I just laid there, peering over my arm at the boots that passed by, no one giving me a passing glance. The men, those who were not in their human forms, were wearing masks that looked as though they were made of scraps of leather and dried… skin. I shivered involuntarily as another couple of men passed me, their eyes shining like gems behind the grotesque masks covering their faces. But then the air left my lungs in a high-pitched scream as I was lifted up onto my feet, someone's arms coming around me and holding me still against their chest. His warmth penetrated my nearly frozen skin, his roughly calloused hands gripping me securely to his body as he lifted me off my feet and moved me toward the window as though I weighed nothing. “Stop!" I pleaded. His mask brushed against my cheek as he adjusted his hold on me so he carried me like an infant, clutching me against his chest. “Let me go!" I bucked against him, going as far as biting him on the shoulder hard enough to draw blood. He hissed out his breath, fixing me with a steely glare. The mask distorted his face. I knew nothing of his physical features other than the fact that he was large, muscled, and incredibly strong. Blood covered his hands. His knuckles were split open and his shirt was torn so badly it was hanging off of him. I punched him in the chest, crying out in pain. It was like punching a brick wall. I felt his laugh, his mask distorting the sound. “We're going to run," he said as he held me close and ducked through the window. I looked up into his eyes as I clawed his neck with what was left of my fingernails. But what I saw beyond the mask gave me pause and sent a shiver of recognition up my spine. His eyes were black, and not from shadow or the darkness that consumed us outside of the tavern. His irises were black, or at least a dark gray. But it was the crimson and amber flakes that made my body go rigid and caused my heart to thunder in my chest. “Tell me your name," he commanded. “Eliza," I whispered, unable to stop myself from telling the truth. “Trust me, Eliza," he replied, then he ran off with me into the night. #

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