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 with me, which if you really think about it, there wasn't much of a difference.

I was purchased to serve a duty, one which I had no interest in but also had no choice.

"Zaya." His voice dropped a little. "You'll need strength soon."

"Strength for what?" I whispered.

"For what your body is made for."

Something snapped made me irrational and I glared at him with so much hatred in my eyes.

I stood up suddenly, fists clenched. "Say it. Go ahead. Say that you bought me like a far animal and want to breed me like one"

He stared at me for a long moment.

Then...

"You're here to give me a legacy. Not a fucking love story."

I walked right up to him. "What happened to you?" I asked bitterly. "Who made you like this?"

Something flickered in his eyes.

There was a change from his usual stoic expression, it was like a tiny window was opened and I could see the storm brewing in his eyes.

He reached up slowly and for a second I thought he might strike me. But instead, he touched a strand of my wet hair and said, almost too quietly,

"You smell like lavender. She loved lavender."

I froze.

"She?"

He dropped his hand. "Get some sleep."

His voice was gruff and he looked away from me.

"No." I blocked the door. "Tell me. Who is 'she'?"

His eyes narrowed. "That is none of your fucking business woman!"

"You mean your mate," I insisted. "She died. And now you're taking it out on the world. Keeping me here against my will"

He didn't speak. But the air changed. Thickened.

Then, suddenly-

"She was pregnant," he said.

I stared at him, stunned.

He took a big gulp of air like it was too painful to get out the words he wanted to say.

He was venting, not even talking to me at this point but talking either way.

"I was late," he continued. "Ten minutes. That's all. I tore through ten rogues to get to her. But I was ten minutes late."

Silence stretched between us. Only our breathing.

"She died screaming," he whispered. "That's why I hate noise."

I swallowed hard. "So now you take breeders instead of mates?"

His jaw tensed. "I don't need love, or someone to replace her. What I need is a bloodline."

"And where does that leave me? What if I don't want to be yours?"

"You do not have much of a choice Zaya you have to obey me"

I tipped my chin stubbornly "and what if I do not want to obey?"

His eyes bored into mine.

They were piercing, angry and I got the memo of his message, mess with the devil and find out/

"Then you'll learn to obey."

I raised my chin. "Or you'll kill me?"

He smirked, wickedly. "No. Killing you would defeat the purpose."

He stepped back, opening the door. "Rest. Tomorrow... we begin."

I should've felt dread.

But all I felt was rage.

That night, sleep refused to come. I lay there in the darkness, tracing the faint scars on my wrist. Little reminders of the first year after my mother died. Back then, I thought pain was the only way to breathe.

She had been everything to me. The only person who ever truly loved me without conditions. She understood me, every broken piece, every sharp edge, and somehow made me feel whole. When she was still here, life had color. With her gone, the world felt gray and heavy, and I was just... surviving. Existing, not living

I wasn't weak. At least, that's what I told myself. I had carried so much already, but sometimes the weight of the world pressed too hard. Even the strongest wolves crack when the storm refuses to end.

I closed my eyes, willing sleep to take me. Ryan's voice echoed in my head, steady and certain. He had told me I needed strength, that I couldn't afford to fall apart. He believed in me more than I believed in myself, and maybe that was the only reason I kept holding on.

Five minutes passed. I knew because I was counting sheep like a child, desperate to drift off. But sleep still wouldn't come.

Then the sound came. The door creaked open slowly, the kind of sound that makes your stomach twist. Heavy footsteps followed, deliberate and unhurried, moving closer to my bed. My body froze. I forced my breaths to remain even, pretending I was asleep, even though my heart pounded so hard it felt like the whole room could hear it.

I didn't want to die. Not now. Not like this.

The mattress dipped beside me, sinking under another weight. I stayed perfectly still, my hands trembling under the covers. Then cold fingers slid through my hair, brushing against my scalp in a way that made my skin crawl. I felt him lean closer, his presence pressing into my space.

And then it happened.

A tongue slid across my face, starting at my lips and dragging upward until it reached my eyes. My stomach lurched. Revulsion clawed at me, and every part of me wanted to scream. If I hadn't been frozen in terror, I would have spat out how disgusting it was. But fear locked me in place, trapping me in silence.

Then he spoke. His voice was low and heavy, curling around me like a chain I couldn't break.

"He may have bought you first, baby girl, but you are mine."