The Alpha's Breeder

06

Dawn found her standing by the bedside just as the door locks unclicked and swung open.

Alessia’s fatigue-laden eyes swept over the five servants that slipped in on quiet feet balancing trays, buckets of items and two pieces of clothing.

Pervading the room was the rancid smell of her urine, saline and faint like an afterimage lingering in the air.

Her cheeks took on a slight hue as the servants paused and shared furtive glances. Crap.

A moment of silent communication bypassed them and in it she grew even more restless, wishing she had washed the sheets with some sort of perfumed soap.

Alessia sat rigidly on the bed’s edge and waited as they began to clean up the room. Afterwards they drew a hot bath and beckoned her into it.

They soaped and rubbed her until her skin squeaked and glistened like jasper. One maid put salve on her cut face and slit lip which had cracked then layered it thinly with a swipe of blushing red to give her brown skin some sort of appealing lively color.

They washed her hair with loathsome hands that struggled to pry through her curls, lips turned downwards in disdain at the lack of bright lustre or onyx darkness, the lack of straight silkiness that would give way to combs like soft sand slipping between fingers.

Alessia’s skin felt raw and violated when it was all over. Steam rose from her bare shoulders, the undertone of her complexion was slightly ruddy, her feet and hands pruned from being submerged in the water for far too long.

The undergarments slid over her skin easily, the white silken dress flowing over her body and stopping just short of her scarred knees. They masked whatever scars they could with blemish cream, and powdered her raw hardened feet with pomegranate oils and talcum powder then slipped them into sandals.

“You wait here.” One maiden said with a demure bow to her head.

Alessia nodded, her mouth parched, tongue sandpaper dry with the need to say something but one look at the glimmering hatred in their eyes was enough.

Once the door closed, Alessia released a heavy breath and began pacing.

She turned in time to warily eye the four guards that marched in. Tall, bulky, all with the same look of loathing that hooded their eyes while regarding her.

“You have been summoned.” One said as the other positioned himself behind her.

“Where?” The question left before she could process it. Alessia’s eyes darted between the guards as they shared a silent look. She stepped back almost reflexively, a tightness drawing her shoulders taut.

One guard broke from the rest and approached her impatiently. His hand shot out just as she withdrew and caught at her bicep, yanking her forward. “Move, Omega.”

Alessia stumbled and nearly pitched face-first into the carpet.

“The sacrifice, where else.” Another snorted as his hand reached for her nape. “Now move!”

“Don’t touch me.” She snapped, and took some satisfaction from the surprise that came over his broad face. Her tongue had come loose in that moment with a cocktail of frustration and humiliation swirling like sour alcohol in her belly.

The soldiers shared another dazed look, one of confliction, and she saw a muscle twitch in the man’s cheek. Her mind already began to create scenarios of how they would punish her for lashing out.

A beating.

A thorough, bloody beating.

She grew tense with her trembling hands flexing on either side in preparation for a short lived fight only to falter and gaze with a bemused expression as the guards separated, gesturing her forward.

“The Alpha has requested for you.”

Oh.

They wouldn’t harm her; she was the sacrificial lamb after all.

Sparing the guards a cautious yet hostile glance, Alessia found her fingers bunching the material of her dress and stepped forward. Hands reached out for her forearms upon reaching the door, clamped like bolts, and she bristled at their touch but said nothing.

The soldiers escorted her out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Never before had she stepped foot out of Circe’s bedroom and to witness the strange beauty of the palace in her final moments of existence was a morbid, tragic kind of thing.

Golden lamps burned tangerine on both sides, setting the red carpet aflame as the girl was led down the corridor, fire licking lasciviously at her heels.

Alessia stared ahead of her, refusing to grant the king any sort of satisfaction whilst imprisoned in his abode.

A moment later the guards drew her to a halt before a set of heavy, mahogany doors, and after another, they were being opened.

If she thought that the bedrooms were dazzling enough, the intimidation that swelled in her throat spoke differently at the sight of the eating chamber.

White lace curtains with gold accents; an endlessly reaching dining table that stretched across the length of the room; bespoke serviettes, intricately woven to the Alpha’s taste; and the food.

Alessia’s mouth transformed into a cavern of honey, salivating at the dishes of quail with rose-petal sauce presented before each member at the table.

Her eyes found Circe as if they were jigsaw pieces.

The princess’ back was towards her, unmoving, golden threads of hair veiling her cheek as she sat across from her mother.

The Luna raised her fork to her lips, wrapping her dainty lips around the prongs before slowly chewing the mouthful; the sight was almost comedic, her teeth shifting only so slightly. And beside them, at the head of the table sat the King.

Alessia felt a sudden hand at her back, shoving her forward. She stumbled but managed to catch herself as the man’s gaze shifted towards her along with his wife’s. Only Circe’s head stayed down.

“The sacrifice, my King,” declared a soldier from behind her and she gritted her teeth, ready to turn and claw at him for his insolence only to pause once she recognised where she was. Here, whether in the palace or in the marketplace, she was at the bottom of the hierarchy.

A sacrifice.

Food at the altar.

Raising her head, her verdant eyes connected with the King’s and she felt a familiar chill rattle down her spine at the antagonism in those blue, cutting irises. But as soon as he was meeting her gaze, it was returning to his wine and he sipped it indifferently, regal blood staining his tongue. He nodded at the guards to leave.

Alessia stood there, hands balled by her sides.

She waited for Circe to look up at her, to acknowledge her with a glance, let alone words, but the girl did not stir. She did not reach for her fork. She did not eat.

Troubled, Alessia watched her friend finally raise a hand to her face in hopes of her subtly looking her way, only for Circe to brush her hair away from her cheek. As she tucked the loose wisps behind her ear, a spear of shame punctured her gut at the bruise colouring the princess’ cheekbone.

Alessia wanted to approach her, to utter awkward words of comfort and pull her into her arms, to splash that damned wine all over the Alpha’s face for even daring to raise a hand against his daughter - but instead she looked on helplessly as the scratching of cutlery against china rang through the air like something obnoxious.

After hovering at the doors for another moment, a flicker of hot irritation sparked in her belly and she made for the chair beside Circe.

Suddenly, the man’s gaze was slicing through the air like dark glass.

“No, Omega, you will stay standing.”

Alessia lowered her raised hand and clenched it by her side, rolling her thumb over her dark, calloused knuckles in an attempt to stir patience within her. What was she supposed to do then? She was conscious of the Luna’s own insensate stare as she regarded her figure beneath the loose, silk dress, guts wriggling like snakes in search of a morsel.

Her stomach surrendered to the scent of meat at the table, resulting in a heinous rumble.

The Luna’s wine-coloured lips curled.

“Are you hungry?” she queried lightly from across the table.

Alessia pressed her lips together and tried to swallow the saliva building in her mouth. Her last meal must have been yesterday’s breakfast.

“That is a shame,” the woman continued, brushing a ringlet of gold from her ear whilst her cunning, bottomless eyes cruised over the thief’s lacking figure. “You cannot eat. The least you could do is try to make yourself presentable for His Highness, not that you have much to offer.”

“She is but a replacement.” Alessia’s venomous glare shot to the Alpha who sat wiping at his mouth with a napkin. “She has not been raised in prime conditions like the other sacrifices. There is little to expect from a common thief.”

Common?

The girl’s legs felt like they would give way from how much rage rattled through her bones. She didn’t know why but Circe’s lack of response stung like the worst of nettles, not a word of defence escaping her lips, but then she wondered why she was angry. Alessia herself could do nothing in the face of the man and his wife.

What could their disgraced daughter do?

“The sacrificial carriage is due in a few minutes.” The Alpha lowered his knife and fork to the empty porcelain plate, remnants of viscous syrup not completely wiped clean with the pieces of soft hot breads glimmered on the plate’s surface. Alessia swallowed.

The Alpha raised the gold rimmed glass to his lips and held it there whilst studying his daughter’s downcast face.

“As for you, daughter,” the word was acid on his tongue, and Circe’s shoulders sloped beneath the leaden weight of his stare. Any further and her body would cave into itself. “Your carriage will arrive in the evening.”

This caught Alessia’s attention for her gaze jerked from the plate and to the Alpha’s face. He was watching her, the corners of his lips curling in a slow guileless smile.

Where? Where are you taking her? Alessia’s desperate stare flickered from the Alpha to the Luna and finally Circe - the princess who nodded solemnly, accepting her punishment without further question.

“You’re not-” The words rushed past her lips before she could capture them. A string of nerves tightened in her ribs, “Where are you taking her?”

The disgust that settled on the Luna’s face was so distinct, so potent, it took her so unawares that she took a timid step back for fear of a lash forming from nowhere and striking her.

The Alpha took his turn sipping languidly from the wine glass seemingly unaffected by his wife’s hazardous change. “To remedy Circe’s little… mishap, she will be taken somewhere.”

Somewhere? Where? Alessia openly watched Circe now, begging with her eyes for the princess to turn and see her.

“Her presence is no longer welcomed in the sixth kingdom for the next thirty years.” The Alpha gazed at his nails then smoothed the coat he wore before rising. The chair scraped back— a sound similar to the fraying of nerves within Alessia at the new information.

“She has been tainted and is impure both in body and…” his eyes flickered between them, “soul. For such reasons I have no intention of having her around this kingdom, around my children whom she can smear with her sinful ways.”

Alessia felt her world shift on its axis. She stood there watching Circe, the familiar curve of her shoulder hidden beneath a dull dress, the brightly spun hair that once caught sun like buttercups. She did not see the Alpha exit the room, nor did she feel the Luna’s hostile gaze drift past as she too left the room.

There was a numbness that overcame her. A quietness that she could break yet hoped the princess would do it for her. For them.

“Circe-” Alessia did not recognize her own voice, there was something hollow and pained in it. Vulnerable. “Is it-”

The chair suddenly scraped back so sharply it startled her. She took a step back as Circe rose, head still bowed as if to wind, then turned with her shoulders hunched forward and her hands clasped so tightly at her front the blood was not hard to see from self-inflicted wounds.

Alessia watched as her friend rushed past her, and all that remained was the soft scent of her skin.

She felt bereft. A piece of her heart fell away like a butterfly’s wing.

She stared at the place where she once stood, struggling to process the flashes of red on those wrists, but she didn’t get the chance before she was being gripped by the arm and tugged out of the room - this time by force.

She blinked--

Then turned fast as an arrow shot to catch the hem of Circe’s skirt flattering before disappearing around the corner.

“Wait! Circe!” Her movements were without thought, nearly stumbling like a newborn over her feet as she began to rush for the girl. “Circe! Damnit-” Alessia failed to see the movement of guards to her left.

A hand clamped down on her forearm and held her back.

“Hey-” she protested, suddenly feeling trapped as though she hadn’t felt it before. “Hey, you’re hurting, just- f**k, let go of me!”

The soldiers turned a deaf ear towards her as Alessia struggled, her leaden feet desperate to take her back to Circe. She needed to go back. She had to.

“Circe!” she cried, her chest swelling and shattering all at once. She kicked her legs. She tossed and turned. She flailed until she couldn’t breathe a single breath unless her friend would gift it back to her. “Circe, wait! Please! I need to-”

“Move it, Omega,” grunted one of the guards.

Alessia paid no heed to the command and struggled to break free from the firm grasp when his hand shot out and grabbed her jaw between the rough cusp of his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face up to his. He squeezed once, hard enough for the pain to clear the fog of emotion blurring her vision.

She was breathing harshly in his grip, all the fight instantly dissolving from her limbs as he gave another painful squeeze.

“Walk,” he demanded, easing his bruising grip once assured that she would not resist.

Alessia hardly had time to recover when he was shoving her forward one step then another. She stumbled then tripped as her legs tried to work without her mind still swamped in grief... betrayal... hurt.

The corridor seemed endless, just like her labyrinth of thoughts.

Why?

Why did things have to be this way?

Why did her best friend have to leave without saying goodbye?

Why did she, out of all the unfortunate souls just begging to be taken, have to be the one to suffer? To die at the hands of a monster all because of some stupid custom, some stupid sacrifice, some greedy, stupid, ignoble Lycan who thrived off the blood of virgins and his people and the kingdoms and-

They reached the doors.

A shuddering breath escaped Alessia as they were drawn open before her, revealing the grey of day that had transformed into bleak clouds and rain. Flashing sheets of cold droplets drizzled past the overhang of the palace and pattered on the marble steps leading down to her demise.

Commoners cried and chanted on either side of the path, raising hands to the sky as if this were for some deity and not a ruthless Beast. Alessia fought a laugh at the sight even though her heart was breaking; it was like some perverted marriage ceremony except this was for her death. To think that so many would show to see the sacrifice off, expecting Circe in all her angelic glory to glide down these steps and plaster on a pretty smile.

The guards’ hands tightened like coils of wire and they dragged her forward. She fought a stumble, head bowing low, ready to face the rain and the people whose lips turned and eyes flashed at the white streak in Alessia’s hair.

Then all of a sudden, a parasol was being raised above her head.

A bitter smile came upon her lips before she was being tugged down the path, sandals clacking on the wet bricks and dress slightly blowing. Wouldn’t want her hair to get wet, would they? She didn’t even have time to find grim amusement in the fact as the chanting and praying and calling grew louder whilst being paraded down to the carriage that awaited her.

Alessia’s skin grew speckled with rain, encrusted like gemstones that made her glow in a hollow sort of way.

She couldn’t help but glance at the people beside her. It was the last she’d see of them. The last she’d see of this kingdom.

But what burned the most was that it was the last she’d see of-

“Lessie!”

Alessia turned her head sharply, heart taking a leap.

She heard footsteps, the slapping of soles against wet brick, the brushing of clothes and disgruntled murmurs. “Lessie!” the person called again, their voice breaking in a desperate plea that had Alessia’s blood thrumming through her ears like a hummingbird.

“Circe?”

Suddenly, a body was barrelling into hers and sending her stumbling back two steps.

The soldiers were just as taken aback, stone faces cracking by a fraction at who had disrupted the process. Alessia steadied the girl with tremulous hands. Fingers swept through her loose blonde waves. Eyes connected with ones at sea. Their lips quivered, hearts shaking, eyes moistening.

Alessia pulled Circe into her arms.

The people looked on with bemused expressions as their ritualistic chanting came to a diminuendo but the girls couldn’t have cared less in the moment. They were too occupied by clutching each other incoherent with relief, inhaling each other’s scents in the damp air and memorising each other’s faces for this was their final goodbye.

“What are you doing here?” Alessia asked shakily, taking in the state of Circe’s wet and ruffled dress. There was mud at the hem. “Your father-”

“I had to give you this,” she said and pressed something into the thief’s hand. Pausing, her fingers furled around the familiar object and she stared in confusion at her friend whose eyes were glistening, tears stringing on her lashes like dewdrops. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“My princess, the King would not allow this-”

Circe cut the guard off with a raise of her hand, then turned to him with eyes that glimmered and begged. His words grew caught in his throat, jaw pulsing with reluctance.

“I-I can’t take it,” whispered Alessia, rain drumming around them under the parasol.

“Please.”

“I’m not supposed to take anything with me-”

“Just… keep it.” A melancholy smile curled around her mouth like a noose. “I want you to have it so when I leave…”

Alessia stepped forward, her hands bunching around her friend’s puffed sleeves as tears threatened to break the dam at her lashes, her nose growing red and stinging. “I’ll find you, Circe,” she croaked, “I promise, I’ll find you. I’ll-I’ll get out of this.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“I’m not going to die.”

“You’re going to live, Lessie.”

“I’m going to live.”

Her chest burned like hot coals at the words that left her, both faces screwing together in so much agony that it singed the rain until she thought it would turn black. Then Alessia slid her arms around her friend and clutched her with a silent desperation.

“Please stay safe,” she whispered, a tear pressing on Circe’s creamy shoulder.

The princess returned her hold with mirrored urgency as her hands grasped at the back of Alessia’s dress, chin resting upon her shoulder. It was a silent promise that she would. They’d both keep safe, survive, conquer whatever obstacles blocked their roads because of the will that weighed heavy in their chests.

“The Eastern Shore,” Circe whispered, a drop of rain curving over her cupid’s bow.

Alessia’s eyes opened to peer at her. She was close enough for their noses to touch, close enough to see the dark outlines of her blue eyes, the minuscule red networking veins in her eyes, red and swollen from crying.

“The Eastern Shore,” she repeated.

Alessia’s grip loosened on her friend’s sleeves as the novelty slowly sunk into her. That was where the Alpha would banish his daughter off as punishment. A small isolated city hundreds of miles from the sixth kingdom. It bordered the Green sea.

Alessia’s throat swelled with hope. “I’ll come find you.”

Circe’s lips met her cheek, warm as dawn’s dying light, then drew away with a sorrowed, hopeful smile. “I know.”

Alessia hugged her one last time as if branding her body into the princess’ before the hands could take her. They arrived soon enough. Latching onto her shoulder, the guards pulled her away and forced her forward and away from the girl.

The next time she was looking behind her, Circe’s eyes swelled with so much grief that she couldn’t possibly fathom it, and behind her, up the steps of the palace stood two regal figures resembling pure vindication at the interaction between her and their daughter.

The King watched from afar, eyes locked on Circe; the princess didn’t notice.

Alessia’s lips gave a diminutive quiver as she reached the carriage, hand still gripping the object in her palm tightly as if shielding it from the world.

Her heart thundered and she lowered her head. Her fingers brushed the crimson, velvet curtains upon entry and she fumbled with her dress, clumsily seating herself before a guard followed shortly.

Clutching the sheath of his dagger at his side, their eyes connected when he took the seat opposite her, their knees brushing.

She wasn’t taking this journey alone?

“Don’t think you can run, Omega.”

Bitterly, she turned her head. She looked to the window.

All she caught was a glimpse of the Alpha and Luna approaching the broken blonde like a shadow of menace before the soldier was drawing the drapes shut.

The sight dissolved into fine powder as the crowd grew louder. Alessia stared blankly at the pane of glass, her eyes still wet and burning with the urge to cry out of frustration, but instead she looked down at her lap.

Gathering the material of her dress, she let her dark curls fall about her face and found herself tracing the patterned lace at the hem of the garment. The guard shifted, hawk eyes still cautiously locked on the girl.

The carriage started with a screeching whistle from outside as a footman waved them off.

She felt the wheels roll along polished brick, the creaking of wood and the whipping of leather against animal hide, the soft drumming of water on the hood of a carriage like an honorary orchestra wishing her well. Despairingly, Alessia withdrew Circe’s gift from her sleeve and held it before her.

She pressed the scarf to her nose and felt fresh tears prick at her eyes.

“Girl, you know it is forbidden to take any past belongings-”

“Please.”

The word surprised her more than it did him for she didn’t remember the last time she’d openly begged someone for something so insignificant yet something so precious. Her cheeks turned ruddier as she gripped the woven, brown scarf between her fingertips.

“Please,” she whispered.

The guard said nothing but warily scanned her, hand still gripping the dagger at his waist. Unclenching his fingers, his hand came to rest upon his navy clothed thigh and Alessia released a feather breath. She scrunched the scarf and sniffled. She blinked a tear away.

The rest of the journey was silent save for the rhythmic trotting of hooves upon dirt and the occasional stumble in the road. Alessia’s head throbbed like a bruise all the while.

She didn’t know how long the journey would last, whether to sleep in her last moments or find a way of entertaining herself; but every time she’d even consider dozing, she found her body lurching forward from the rocky terrain and almost into the soldier’s lap.

Sleep didn’t come easy to her, for once, either.

And so she clutched Circe’s scarf carefully almost as if it were a holy artifact and sat gazing at either the leather seat or the pattern of her dress.

With her head fogged over, Alessia couldn’t find the simple pleasure of the ache in her spine nor the nausea in her stomach. For the umpteenth time, she looked at the curtain beside her.

Then it moved.

As the carriage reached another hurdle in the road, it jolted and caused both passengers to shift along with the driver, and with it, the drape swayed and allowed her a glimpse of the outside.

Alessia felt her heart drift up her throat at what rendered the clouds and the trees, the skies up above.

The Darkness.

A wall of black reaching for the heavens and spanning past the eye’s horizon.

And beyond it lay His kingdom.