The Alpha's Breeder
Six : Personal Breeder? Hell No!

Kent glanced back at me. His dark eyes glowered and he smirked rather evilly at the knowledge of my looming future.

“This is your punishment bitch,” he said tauntingly with a mocking curl of his lips. The other werewolf next to him leered in my direction.

I duly noted that both seemed rather pleased at my just ′punishment’.

“What do you mean?” I breathe out. Albeit I felt like I knew what they were referring to, I wanted them to confirm my assumptions.

“You’re going to be my Alpha’s little breeding bitch. A cheap ugly whore who will spread her legs at his command,” he finally replied.

“Screw you,” I hissed out through the cracks of my teeth. My lips curled into an ugly snarl and my blood was boiling in my veins at his insulting words.

“Sadly, my Alpha will be doing that.” He smirked. “After all, when you turn off all the lights, every woman looks the same.”

I sneered at him, anger making my chest warm and tight with displeasure.

“Doesn’t your Alpha have a mate?” I ask, lips pursed in disgust the longer I have to look at him.

The Alpha looked to be quite older so I imagine that he must have been mated already.

“He does. Our Alpha Female is a beautiful she-wolf with everything that you don’t have, except for that miraculous womb that is.” His words shut me up immediately, making me want to throttle him with my bare hands.

And here I thought werewolves were supposed to be monogamous creatures who only had one soul mate.

From what I have learned, mates are very important to werewolves.

Once they reach a certain age of maturity, their inner beast would be able to recognize their mate almost immediately after meeting. After that, they would consummate in some sort of mating ritual of the wolves.

Their mate bond would make them unable to cheat on each other. The male won’t even be able to touch another female without feeling anything other than disgust and self-hatred.

Unless something unfortunate happens like if one dies or if one mate decides to forsake the other, they will not receive another mate.

Although I have heard of second chance mates, it is not very common among the werewolf population. Some believe that it is a punishment from the moon gods if they do not find another mate and remain lonely for the remainder of their long lifetime.

For this Alpha to go and cheat on his mate for some prophecy that might not even be real is absolute idiocracy.

If he thinks that I am going to lay down and spread my legs just to pop out a dozen or so kids for him than he must be a psycho that needs to be locked up far far away from here.

That’s not going to happen.

Ever.

Kent sent me this evil smirk before they both left the room. The door slammed shut with a slightly muffled clicking sound that indicated that it was, once again, locked.

At their leave, my fingers immediately went to my mouth. I gnawed on the raw and dry cuticle and contemplated the situation.

I remember that Amy had once interrogated a couple of werewolves. She said that one of them had stated something about an ‘Alpha’s Breeder’.

Since we have never heard of such a thing, I was in charge of researching the topic. I holed myself up inside the government library in search of any documentation that talked about this ‘Breeder’.

In the end, I found a rather old scroll with cryptic language on the topic.

She was said to have a mark that every werewolf would be able to recognize when the moon shines upon it.

It was said that only one Breeder was born every 500 years with the ability to birth full blooded werewolves that were much stronger than the average werewolf.

These werewolves had the capabilities of destroying a whole city in their wake and killing more than 15 men at the same time, giving them the upper hand over a lot of supernatural beings.

Later, I found them to be called Sentinels, a different breed of warrior werewolf built for war and fighting.

They only obey and bow down to one person, the Alpha’s Breeder, also known as the Mother.

She can command them at will to destroy and kill or to back down and play nice.

All in all, this woman would be the end of the human race and everything in between if she chose to wage war.

Her mate would have a lot more power with these sentinel werewolves at beck and call. Because of that, most Alphas want this Breeder for their own in order to strengthen their pack.

Yet the hunger of greed and thirst for power would be their downfall because this Breeder is meant for only one male under the moon gods guardianship.

But this was all a myth of some sorts, right?

Something that werewolves tell their kids as a bedtime story.

Right?

I can’t possibly be some Breeder built with no other purpose than to lay flat on my back and give birth for the rest of my life.

I will not become a breeding bitch for anyone.

“Ow,” I muttered absently under my breath after tearing a bit of skin off of my index finger.

Damn it.

How am I going to get out of this mess?

With a deep sigh, I trudged back over to the window and ripped off the blue curtains to reveal the wood planks hammered into place.

I doubt that kicking the planks or ramming my shoulder into it at full speed would dislodge the nails and loosen the boards. That idea was very painful and rather impractical.

Glancing around the room again, I noted that there was a metal folded chair in the corner.

I hobbled over to the chair and picked it up, my fingers burning since I had literally chewed off most of my cuticle during the whole scheming process.

Afraid to make too much noise, I slowly started to pry at the wood. My hands shook from the strain but I pushed myself forwards. The minutes trickled by and there was a more noticeable loosening of the boards, gradually coming loose as I continued to put more pressure.

Sweat trickled down the back of my neck.

How in the world did I manage to survive this long?

It took me almost ten minutes before I finally managed to tear off a small spot that I would be able to crawl through. I didn’t waste any more time and started to lodge myself into the small hole, splinters attaching to a majority of my clothes to which I had to ignore at the moment.

After a little while, I managed to land with my head on the grass. When I finally got my legs out, I started limping away from the house madly as if the devil was on my heels.

Well, as fast I could with my injured ankles anyways.

Trailing deeper into the forest, I had no clue in which direction that I was going.

I have no sense of direction but I could see the sun and it was east of me so I am hurriedly heading towards the North, or what I assumed was the North.

The feeling of running for my life was making my lungs heave, my legs burning painfully from yesterday and today’s strain.

This was starting to feel like dejavu again.

I could hear my blood roaring in my ears along with the rapidly palpitating beats of my heart. I trudged on with the thought of survival and hope, no matter how little of it I currently had.

God, please don’t let them catch me.

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