Breeder To The Brutal Alpha King

Rebecca’s POV

Trembling violently, I dragged my battered body toward the farthest corner of the fancy room, desperate to put as much distance as possible between myself and the bed. I sank to the cold floor, pulled my knees tightly against my chest, and tried to tell myself to calm down. Just breathe, I whispered inwardly. Just look at the floor. Do not look at the bed.

It took me hours of rocking back and forth in the darkness, freezing under the weight of the silver choker, before my racing pulse finally began to slow. I forced my eyes to stay glued to the rich Persian rug, making absolutely sure not to look in the direction of the dead body.

The heavy silence of the room pressed down on me like a physical weight, broken only by the sound of my own loud breaths.

​I couldn’t sleep. Every time I blinked, I imagined the Queen’s pale, lifeless fingers reaching out to choke me, just as the Beta had promised.

​As the hours dragged by, I noticed the pitch-black darkness outside the massive windows slowly shifting into a bleak, gray dawn. Morning had arrived, but it brought no relief.

​Suddenly, the heavy lock clicked, and the door swung open. Four maids walked into the chamber, carrying fresh white linens and washing basins. The moment their eyes landed on the bed, seeing the pale, still form of their deceased mistress, they broke into devastating sobs.

​I sat frozen in my corner, staring at them. The raw heartbreak in their weeping made it obvious—she must have really been a kind, loving Queen.

​As one of the maids stepped forward to tend to the bed, she caught sight of me cowering on the floor. Her sorrow instantly hardened into pure rage. She glared at me, her eyes full of hate.

​”You wanted the King, right?” she spat, her voice shaking with rage. ”Well, you have gotten him.”

​”I heard the Beta talking to the warriors,” another maid chimed in, wiping her tears as she threw a hateful look my way. ”He told them you are nothing but a temporary breeder. The King is only letting you live until the Queen’s funeral is over today. You won’t live to tell the story after the Alpha King is done with you.”

​Before I could even process their terrifying words, two large guards marched into the room. They didn’t say a word. One of them roughly yanked me up by my arm, making my snapped ribs flare with white-hot pain, and dragged me out of the chamber.

​They took me deep into the dark underbelly of the mansion, throwing me into a cold, damp cell and slamming the gate.

I collapsed onto the hard stone floor, clutching my throbbing chest, wondering if my desperate gamble had been the best decision after all. Wrapping my arms around myself, a sob escaped my lips. Maybe I should have let the pack stone me to death in the square and end this nightmare. At least then, my suffering would already be over.

​Hours later, the muffled sound of distant drums and sorrowful howling echoed through the stone walls of my cell. It seemed the Queen’s funeral had officially started.

​Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks. I curled into a ball on the floor, squeezed my eyes shut, and whispered into the cold darkness, ”I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, Your Majesty. I may not be the one who killed you, but I am the cause of your death. If I hadn’t been there, if I hadn’t been weak... please forgive me.”

​For long hours, the funeral went on. I could hear the distant, vibrating grief of the entire pack shaking the very ground beneath me.

​Eventually, the mourning sounds faded away, replaced by a suffocating silence. The sun went down, night fell, and still, no one came for me. The anticipation was agonizing. Were they going to leave me here to starve? Was King Kaden going to execute me now that his wife was buried?

​Suddenly, the quiet was broken by the sound of heavy, approaching footsteps.

​I scrambled backward against the stone wall, fear freezing my blood. The cell door unlocked, and the same ruthless guards who had locked me up pulled me out, dragging my weak body through the dark corridors.

​Instead of taking me back to the mansion, they dragged me outside to a wide, empty courtyard.

​When we reached the center of the yard, my breath caught in my throat. Standing there was the Alpha King. He was dressed entirely in a traditional, white ceremonial tunic and loose white pants—the mourning attire of a grieving wolf. Beside him stood a massive warrior holding a deadly recurve bow and a quiver full of sharp, silver-tipped arrows.

​I was completely confused, my mind spinning with terror.

​The guards yanked my arms and forced me to drop heavily onto my knees in the dirt. Breathing heavily, I lifted my eyes and looked up at the Alpha King.

​Up close, King Kaden looked completely disheveled. His jaw was covered in dark stubble, his clothes were slightly rumpled, and his large shoulders slumped like a man standing at the very brink of collapsing. His eyes were entirely bloodshot, surrounded by dark shadows that proved he had been weeping for hours. For a split second, looking at his profound heartbreak, a strange flicker of compassion washed over me. In that moment, he didn’t look like a ruthless Alpha King. He looked like a man whose entire world had been buried with his wife.

​Then, Kaden looked down at me, and any trace of sorrow on his face vanished, replaced by a deadly, frigid glare.

​”You want to be my breeder? Fine,” Kaden spoke, his deep voice incredibly rough and hollow, echoing through the quiet night air. ”But first, let’s see if you will even make it out alive.”

​My heart did a violent flip in my chest. I was so confused. What did he mean?

​Kaden gestured coldly to the warrior standing beside him with the weapon. ”My archer here will shoot three arrows at you while you race toward that stone post on the far side of the yard. If you make it, you live to become my breeder. If you don’t, then consider your death sentence fully served and your body given to the vultures to feed on.”