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

Zaya

"The Alpha sent me to get you ready for tonight."

That was the first thing the woman said when she entered my room. No greeting, no smile, no warmth, just those words, clipped and cold. From her appearance, I guessed she was some sort of housekeeper. Her dark gray uniform was neat but plain, her hair tightly pinned into a bun. She looked like she could have been in her late fifties, but with werewolf genes, age was a tricky thing to measure. She could've easily been older.

And still, the sight of her made my stomach churn.

I had known this moment would come eventually. I wasn't stupid. I'd been dreading it since the day they brought me here, but the reality of it closing in on me was almost unbearable. My chest tightened, my hands suddenly grew clammy, and I felt like I might throw up right there on the floor.

Earlier, they'd served me a meal fit for royalty-a steaming plate of roasted lamb, mashed sweet potatoes that melted like butter, and some strange vegetable side dish I couldn't even name. It was delicious, almost suspiciously so, but instead of comfort, it filled me with unease. It felt less like hospitality and more like I was being fattened up, prepared for slaughter.

The thought alone drained all the fire from me.

I was terrified.

Now, this woman was standing in front of me, saying the Alpha had sent her to "get me ready." Ready for what? Like I didn't already know. Like we were in some prehistoric era where women were simply dressed and delivered for breeding.

I pushed myself shakily to my feet. "What does that even mean?"

If she heard me, she chose to ignore me.

"So rude," I muttered under my breath.

"Please follow me, madam," she said, her expression was stiff, her eyes avoiding mine.

"Just Zaya will do," I corrected.

"Right this way, madam." She dismissed me again, pretending I hadn't said a thing.

I bit my tongue to stop myself from snapping back and followed her down the hall until we reached the bathroom. The air was already warm and scented with lavender. A steaming bath waited for me, bubbles clinging to the surface and candles lit along the counter.

"Please take off your clothes and step in, madam," she instructed.

I hesitated, my cheeks heating. Still, I obeyed. Slipping into the hot bath, I let out an involuntary moan. The heat seeped into my aching muscles, chasing away the tension in my body. When she began washing me, I nearly melted. I had never, in my life, been washed by another person. Her hands were gentle, moving with practiced care. When she massaged shampoo into my scalp, I swore her touch felt divine-like the Moon Goddess herself had sent her hands just for this.

If I was going to be treated like property, like a prize to be cleaned and polished, then I might as well enjoy the fleeting moments of comfort.

When she finished, she dried me carefully, wrapped me in a soft robe, and led me back to the vanity. She brushed my hair, curling it into soft waves, and then applied makeup with skilled precision. When I finally looked into the mirror, I gasped.

"Is... is this me?" My voice cracked with disbelief. The girl staring back was almost unrecognizable. My skin glowed, my eyes sparkled brighter, my lips looked fuller. I looked... beautiful. Truly beautiful.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I'd never seen myself like this before. Never felt like this before. But I blinked quickly, refusing to let the tears fall. I didn't want to ruin all her hard work.

"You look like a princess," the woman said softly. It was the most human thing she'd said to me since walking into the room.

I gave a small, sad smile. "It's too bad I'm dressed to be bred instead of for an actual wedding, isn't it?"

Her silence was deafening. She went back to her work without a word, but I caught the flicker of pity in her eyes. I hated it. Pity made everything worse.

Then she presented me with what she called "attire."

I gaped at the lingerie she laid out. White lace, delicate yet far too revealing. "You want me to wear that?"

"It is the Alpha's orders."

My stomach twisted with humiliation. Couldn't the arrogant bastard at least provide me with a dress? Something dignified? Instead, he wanted me paraded in scraps of lace, like I was meant to be some kind of offering.

Pervert.

With shaking hands, I picked up the lingerie. The material felt fragile, the straps thin and biting. When I finally put it on, the lace dug into my skin, the cups pushing my breasts upward in an almost mocking display of false innocence. White, the color of purity. The irony wasn't lost on me.

I turned to the mirror again, and the reflection staring back made my breath hitch. I looked like a stranger-a sultry vixen in delicate lace. Sexy, alluring. But it wasn't me. I wasn't her.

I crossed my arms, trying to cover myself, heat burning my cheeks. My heart thumped wildly. I wanted this day to be over. I wanted to disappear.

"The Beta will be here soon to take you to the Alpha," the woman announced.

"Wait," I said quickly. She turned, surprised, and I chewed my lip nervously. "What's your name?"

For a moment, I thought she would ignore me again. But then her eyes softened just slightly. "My name is Martha."

And then she was gone.

I began pacing the room, my nerves unraveling with every step. Would it matter if I told the Alpha this was my first time? Probably not. From everything I'd heard, Alpha Ryan was cruel. Ruthless. Unforgiving.

The door opened again, and I froze mid-step.

"I am Nathan, the Beta. I'll be taking you to the Alpha now."

He was tall, handsome in a rugged, boyish way. In another life, he would've been exactly my type. Someone I could've fallen for. Someone I could've loved. But not in this one. Love wasn't part of my story anymore.

"Lead the way," I whispered, forcing the words out past the lump in my throat.

He guided me down a long corridor in silence. My bare feet padded against the cold floor, my anxiety mounting with every step. When we finally stopped in front of a large door, he glanced at me.

"Good luck," he said simply, then turned and left.

My knees wobbled. My chest heaved.

"Please, Mother, be with me," I muttered under my breath, a prayer slipping from my lips before I could stop it.

I pushed open the door.

And gasped.

The room was decorated with candles and rose petals, the bed covered in crimson silk. It looked like a honeymoon suite, romantic and soft. But the atmosphere was heavy, suffocating

"This wasn't my idea," Alpha Ryan's voice cut through the silence. "If you think this is some kind of romantic gesture, don't. We're here to fuck, not to make love."

I spun to face him, trying so hard to control my anger which was already spiking through my fear. "Considering you bought me and kept me here against my will, Alpha, I think I'm well aware of that." Every word dripped with venom.

But then my eyes betrayed me. They swept over him before I could stop them.

He was standing there in nothing but black boxer briefs, his muscles carved to perfection, his skin golden under the candlelight. His body looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. And I hated it. Hated that even now, my body reacted, my cheeks heating, my breath hitching. It wasn't fair. How could someone so cruel look so devastatingly perfect?

"Stop staring at me and strip," he barked.

I glared. "What is wrong with you-"

Before I could finish, his hand wrapped around my throat. Not enough to choke, but enough to remind me of his strength. Enough to warn me.

"I don't like repeating myself," he growled.

My hands trembled as I undressed. One piece at a time, until I was bare before him. His eyes scanned me slowly, his expression unreadable. Goosebumps prickled across my skin under the weight of his gaze.

"Get on the bed."

I scrambled to obey, lying stiffly on the silk sheets. My heart hammered so loudly I swore he could hear it.

He climbed onto the bed, his body looming over mine, his weight pressing me deep into the mattress.

"I'm not here to make love to you," he said flatly. "Don't expect me to be gentle."

My throat went dry.

He positioned himself between my thighs, his hand gripping himself as he pressed against me. No tenderness, no care. Just cold, mechanical intent.

He pushed forward but stopped abruptly. His eyes flicked up to mine. "Are you a virgin?"

Shame burned through me as I nodded quickly.

His expression shifted. Anger. Fury. His eyes darkened to black, his fangs lengthening.

"Get out," he snapped.

My chest tightened. "Wait... but-"

"I said get the fuck out!" His voice thundered, shaking the room.

Terror exploded inside me.

I shoved him back with all the strength I had and fled.