Owned by the Rogue Twin Alpha's (A Breeder for the King)

Zaya

I was sold for just five crates of silver bullets and an oath of peace.

Funny.

I always thought I'd be worth a little more.

I never considered myself special or rare by any means but at least to be with someone that I truly loved would have been enough for me.

I'm nineteen now. A woman, by law. But in this world, filled with packs, blood, rogues, and politics, I'm nothing more than a bargaining chip with a working womb and a pretty face.

Emphasis on the working womb.

The face is just an unfortunate bonus which I happen to come with, but what is most important is the fact that I was fertile.

The night they handed me over, it rained hard. The kind of rain that soaks into your bones and washes away hope.

The sky was dark, a glaring representation of the fate I was to face and the rain masking the taste of my salty tears.

I still remember my Alpha father's voice stern, cold, but cracked with a tinge of regret.

"Zaya, don't fight it. It's what's best for the pack."

I looked up at him from the mud, my clothes soaked, and my heart shattering.

"What's best for the pack?" I hissed. "Or best for you?"

He flinched.

But didn't deny it.

"Ryan agreed not to destroy us if we offered him... an heir."

"An heir?" My voice broke. "You're giving me to him to breed like an animal?"

No one answered.

Two guards came. They didn't touch me roughly. Just... carefully. Like they were afraid I'd break before the Alpha rogue ever got the chance.

And maybe I did.

Inside of me, something died that night.

Something soft.

Something bright.

That was three weeks ago.

I sat on the edge of the stone bed now, the cold biting into my skin. My long black hair clung to my back from the bath I was forced into earlier. The healer said I needed to be "clean" for tonight.

Whatever that meant.

The door creaked.

My heart leaped towards my mouth but I didn't show it. I'd learned that fear excites him.

Ryan entered.

All six-foot-five of him. Dark shirt, sleeves rolled, veins taut in his arms, black ink crawling up his neck. Eyes like frost. No expression. No warmth.

Just the kind of man who made the moon hide behind clouds.

A dangerous beauty that tempted you to come closer just so he could crush you. He was a raging flame that destroyed everything in his path.

His voice was quiet. Always quiet.

"Did you eat?"

I didn't answer.

I didn't want to talk to him, to open my mouth and sound like a screed mouse so that he would have more power over me.

He came closer, eyes scanning me, but never with lust. Never like he wanted me.

Just... like I was a tool.

A piece of meat that he had purchased from the market and wondering what to do