BREEDER FOR THE MAD ALPHA

SERA ༺༺༒༻༻  "Happy birthday to you, Sera." I whispered, staring at my reflection in the mirror. It was my twenty first birthday yet the girl staring back at me from the mirror looked nothing like twenty one. Her eyes looked too tired, dark circles so deep they had started to feel like permanent features. I raised my hand and touched the cut at the corner of my lip that still hadn’t closed, my sleeves hanging off one shoulder because the stitching had finally given out and I haven’t had time to fix it. I pressed my fingers to the glass for just a moment, then let my hand fall. Happy birthday indeed, Sera. Not technically because there was anything worth celebrating but, I was choosing to celebrate the future. Celebrating how close I am right now to my freedom. Just three more months of saving, maybe two if I picked up extra shifts, and I would finally have enough to go. Enough to register, to start building my life. A good education A better life A well paying job A family of my own. The dreams I had carried since I was ten years old. The same dreams my father had written down in his brown notebook and pressed his hand over mine and swore he would help me chase, before his heart gave out and left me alone in a house that never wanted me. "Sera!" The yell from outside my room cut through the air, harshly interrupted my little stolen moment of peace. “Sera!!! You little b***h, come out here this very instant!!” I grabbed my bucket and moved to the door immediately. I did not even have it fully open before the slap landed across my face. I stumbled back a step, my hand flying to my cheek, and blinked into the furious face of my mother standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and her chest heaving. "Did I or did I not tell you," my mother yelled, jabbing a finger at my chest, "that Callista has an audition this morning?" She looked past my shoulder inside the room, her eyes quickly scanning for God knows what. "You were supposed to get everything ready for her. It’s seven O’clock and her shoes haven’t been polished! Her clothes are not yet ironed! What the hell have you been doing all morning?” bowed my head. “I am sorry. I will get it done right away.” “You better.” She pointed one finger at me. “And those chores will not do themselves, so do not think ironing Callista’s things is all you have to do today. And your father will be back soon — breakfast should be on the table before he walks through that door.” She turned to leave, already done with me, already moving on to more important things. “All you do in this house,” she muttered as she walked away, loud enough for me to hear every word, “is sleep under my roof and eat my food and wear my clothes. At your age, Sera. You have absolutely nothing to show for yourself. The least — the very least — you can do is be a little more productive.” Her footsteps faded down the hallway. I stood in the doorway and blinked back the tears before they could fall, because I had learned a long time ago that crying in this house only made things worse. One would think that after eleven years, I would have gotten to this. But every time I watched the woman who had given birth to me look at me like I was something she had stepped in — every time I watched her choose him, choose his money, choose a daughter who did not even share her blood over ME — my heart still broke open. My mother had always loved money more than she loved people. I had understood that even at ten years old, when my father’s business began to struggle and the cash stopped flowing the way it used to. I could still remember her voice carrying through the walls at night, calling him useless, calling him weak, telling him a real man would find a way. When he died of a heart attack six months after the money troubles began, she had not even waited a full season before she found herself the Beta of the pack — a wealthy man in his own right, with a daughter from a previous relationship and no interest in the child his new wife had brought along from her old life. My mother had made her decision the day she married him. She had decided to choose pleasing him over me. She had decided that since her new husband had no care for me I was nothing but a liability…and she had spent every year since then, trying so hard to prove to him that he was more important than her daughter. She pampered Callista. She spoiled her and protected her and ironed out every inconvenience that crossed her path. And she treated me like a help. I shook my head, wiped my face with the back of my hand, and went to start the chores. ༺༺༒༻༻ Two hours later the house was clean, every surface wiped down, every floor swept, and I was just placing the last dish on the table when the front door swung open. My stepfather walked in. Sober. I actually paused mid-motion. He was never sober at this hour. Most mornings he came through that door staggering, reeking of alcohol and sometimes worse, and the whole house arranged itself around whatever state he was in. But today his steps were steady and his eyes were sharp. “Sera.” He did not look at me. “Where the hell is that useless girl? Get over here.” I set the dish down and crossed the room toward him, reaching for his bag but he shoved my outstretched hand away. “Sit down,” he said. “Sit the hell down. We need to talk.” I frowned and lowered myself onto the floor near the sitting room entrance, watching his face and trying to read what was underneath it. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong — I could feel it in the way he was holding himself. He called out for my mother and Callista. They both came running down immediately, all smiles and good mornings, and he silenced them both with one hand and told them to sit down. They sat. “We are in trouble,” he said. “The family is in debt. A very serious debt, and my life is being threatened because of it.” My mother’s hand flew to her chest. “How much debt are we talking about?” “One billion dollars.” She let out a sound like the air had been knocked out of her. “One billion — how? How did you manage to get into that much debt?” He turned and looked at her with something between irritation and exhaustion. “Where exactly do you think your designer clothes come from, huh? Your jewelry? Every luxury item you have ever pointed at and wanted? Nothing in this house came from thin air.” She pressed her lips together. “Well, how serious is it? How much time do we have? How are we going to pay it off?” I sat near the doorway and watched them go back and forth and wondered, privately, what any of this had to do with me. It was their debt, their lifestyle, their consequence. I had nothing, which meant I had nothing to lose. Then my stepfather said the name. “The person I owe is the Red Crest Alpha. He gave me until tonight. If I do not pay, he will kill me.” The room went completely silent. The Red Crest Alpha. I felt the name settle into my bones before my brain finished processing it. Everyone in this territory knew that name. People said it quietly and only when they had to, the way you reference a natural disaster — with the understanding that knowing about it and being able to stop it were two entirely different things. The man was rumored to be dangerous in ways that went beyond the usual stories people told about powerful men. My mother shot to her feet and started pacing, her hands pressed together, chanting “oh my God under” her breath over and over. “Pull yourself together,” my stepfather snapped. “I already handled it.” She stopped. “You handled it? How?” He looked across the room. He looked at me. Just for a second. A quick glance, there and gone, but something about it sent a cold thread of unease straight through my chest. I ignored it and kept my face still. “The Alpha has been looking for a breeder for some time,” he said, his voice leveling out into something almost businesslike. “No woman has ever agreed because of his reputation — everyone knows what he is capable of. But yesterday I was able to strike a deal with his people.” He cleared his throat. “The debt is cleared.” My mother exhaled with relief. “Oh thank God—” “In exchange,” he said, and his eyes came back to me, “I sold her to the pack. Sera is to travel there tonight and become the Alpha’s breeder.”