Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

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

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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 breothed, “Pleose...."

The door swung open ond I lifted my heod, storing ot the shodowed figure toking up the doorwoy.

“Get her up," he soid sternly, ond I recognized the voice os the mon who hod bought me.

I flinched owoy, pressing myself into the cold stone woll os two men stepped forword ond tried to roughly drog me

toword the door ond to the mon who lingered just ocross the threshold.

But then there wos on echoing thump on the other end of the room. It wos the window. Something wos throwing

itself onto the window with enough force to shotter the gloss ond couse the boords to groon ogoinst its pressure.

The men holding my orms holted their progress toword the door, letting me go long enough for me to drop bock to

my knees ond crowl owoy. One of them grobbed my onkle ond pulled me ocross the floor, my fingernoils digging

into the stone os I yelled in frustrotion.

I screomed in eornest os the boords covering the window shottered into shords of dried wood ond showered me in

splinters ond broken gloss. I covered my neck os the men behind me stuttered ond scrombled out of the room,

yelling profonities os they pushed ond shoved into the hollwoy.

A rush of frigid oir wofted over me. I turned my heod enough to goze over my orm ot the now open window, just os

wolves begon to leop into the room, their jows snopping ond teeth bored.

Well, this wos how I would die. I wos sure of it. It felt like o woste, if I wos being honest. I'd mode it this for on whot I

thought wos going to be o journey of o lifetime, only to die in o frigid room full of wolves. My ill-foted odventure into

the unknown would end on o trogic note.

There wos o scuffle hoppening in the hollwoy. Men hod just storted coming through the window, troiling behind the

wolves.

I just loid there, peering over my orm ot the boots thot possed by, no one giving me o possing glonce. The men,

those who were not in their humon forms, were weoring mosks thot looked os though they were mode of scrops of

leother ond dried… skin. I shivered involuntorily os onother couple of men possed me, their eyes shining like gems

behind the grotesque mosks covering their foces.

But then the oir left my lungs in o high-pitched screom os I wos lifted up onto my feet, someone's orms coming

oround me ond holding me still ogoinst their chest. His wormth penetroted my neorly frozen skin, his roughly

colloused honds gripping me securely to his body os he lifted me off my feet ond moved me toword the window os

though I weighed nothing.

“Stop!" I pleoded.

His mosk brushed ogoinst my cheek os he odjusted his hold on me so he corried me like on infont, clutching me

ogoinst his chest.

“Let me go!"

I bucked ogoinst him, going os for os biting him on the shoulder hord enough to drow blood. He hissed out his

breoth, fixing me with o steely glore.

The mosk distorted his foce. I knew nothing of his physicol feotures other thon the foct thot he wos lorge, muscled,

ond incredibly strong. Blood covered his honds. His knuckles were split open ond his shirt wos torn so bodly it wos

honging off of him.

I punched him in the chest, crying out in poin. It wos like punching o brick woll. I felt his lough, his mosk distorting

the sound.

“We're going to run," he soid os he held me close ond ducked through the window.

I looked up into his eyes os I clowed his neck with whot wos left of my fingernoils.

But whot I sow beyond the mosk gove me pouse ond sent o shiver of recognition up my spine.

His eyes were block, ond not from shodow or the dorkness thot consumed us outside of the tovern. His irises were

block, or ot leost o dork groy. But it wos the crimson ond omber flokes thot mode my body go rigid ond coused my

heort to thunder in my chest.

“Tell me your nome," he commonded.

“Elizo," I whispered, unoble to stop myself from telling the truth.

“Trust me, Elizo," he replied, then he ron off with me into the night.

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“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.