Three years ago, my father was executed by the Alpha's orders.
They said he tried to lead a rebellion against the Alpha. That he was gathering men in secret, plotting to overthrow Alpha Finn. There was no trial, no anything. Just an announcement of treason, a sentence by the council, and the heavy swing of a blade I never got to see, but heard. The echo of steel meeting flesh still finds me in my sleep.
I had watched from behind a wall, my mother clutching my arm, nails digging into skin. She didn't cry. She didn't scream. She just stared, like something in her soul had cracked and drained out.
After that, our lives collapsed. From a family of influence and honor, we were reduced to nameless ghosts. The council seized our land. Our titles were revoked. My mother and I were moved into the council's servant quarters and assigned menial work – cleaning, laundry, errands. We were warned not to speak about the past. And we didn't. What would have been the point?
Now I'm here. In the Alpha's residence. Not as a guest. Not even as a servant.
As something worse.
The breeder.
I was summoned that morning by the head servant, a tall, sharp-eyed man with gray in his beard and the posture of a soldier. His name was Master Roldan, and he greeted me with a cold nod as if we were merely discussing a shift schedule.
"Vivien Maliore," he said. "You will undergo the Heirbind Rite on the night of the full moon. Fifteen days from today."
I said nothing.
He continued, "The Rite is sacred. You will be cleansed, prepared, and blessed by the high matron so that your body will be ready to conceive the Alpha's heir. You are not to resist or question any part of it. After the rite, the Alpha may summon you for the night."
My throat was dry.
"Are we clear?"
I nodded, just once.
He then gave me the rules. Four of them, spoken like commands etched in stone.
First: I am not allowed to leave the residence without permission.
Second: I am forbidden from entering the west wing where the Alpha's private quarters are located. "Unless summoned," Roldan added.
Third: I must not, under any circumstance, harm myself. Especially once I conceive. If I did, consequences would be severe.
Fourth: I must obey every order given by the Alpha.
"Any defiance," he said, "will result in punishment."
I didn't show any defiance, though I wanted to scream.
When I was back to my room, I did nothing but stare at the walls. I didn't want to live this life. But if I won't obey, I'd risk my mother's life and mine. I actually don't care about mine, but I can't cause my mother's death. I couldn't take another death of a family.
I lost track of time and only realized it was afternoon when a maid entered my room holding a tray of folded linens and oils. She looked to be around my age, perhaps a year older, with warm brown eyes and a braid that looped over one shoulder. She wore the standard servant dress, but it didn't dampen her light.
"You must be Miss Vivien," she said with a soft smile.
"Just Vivien, please," I said quietly.
"I'm Stella. I'm assigned to assist you with anything you need," she continued. "Bathing, meals, errands. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask me."
I found myself nodding. I found it odd that I got some helping hand now after three years of being a servant.
Stella's presence was gentle, and for the first time since I arrived, I felt the knot in my chest loosen slightly.
That evening, as she helped me into the bath. I let the warm water soak my skin while she poured a mixture of herbs and salts around me.
"Is something happening tonight?" I asked, noticing the air carried the faint smell of roasting meat and wine.
Stella brightened. "Yes! There's a gathering in the ballroom. Nobles, businessmen, and the other high families will attend. The Alpha's hosting it in honor of the recently won war in the west."
"Am I supposed to join?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
Stella shook her head gently. "I'm afraid not. You're to remain in your quarters during events like this."
Of course.
I sank deeper into the bathwater, watching the candlelight flicker against the marble walls.
***
Night fell.
I curled up in the window seat of my room with an old book, some worn-out collection of moon poems and outdated customs. It did little to distract me from the laughter echoing through the halls. The clinking of glasses. The swell of music. Shoes tapping against ballroom floors.
I remembered a time when I used to attend such parties.
My mother would dress me in flowing gowns. My father would beam with pride as we entered the ballroom together. I remember the weight of pearls around my neck. The warmth of wine. The joy of dancing.
Now, I sat hidden in a gilded cage, meant only to be used.
I tried to sleep.
But the silence in my room felt louder than the music outside. I turned in bed, stared at the ceiling, counted every breath. Until boredom and restlessness gnawed through my resolve.
I rose quietly in my long, white nightdress. It was soft cotton, lightweight and plain, but it hugged my waist gently and flowed around my legs with every step. I left my feet bare.
My auburn hair fell in soft mermaid curls down to my waist. I didn't bother pinning it up.
Stella had casually mentioned a small backdoor that led to the garden. It didn't offer an escape, of course, there were guards at the gates which made escape impossible. But it offered a view of the moon in the garden, which made it useful enough for me.
I stepped out into the hallway. The golden sconces along the walls glowed low, casting long shadows. The hall was mostly quiet now, with the celebration moving further inside.
I tiptoed my way down, avoiding creaking panels and lit spaces, until I reached the door.
It opened with a soft click.
The night air rushed in, cool and clean.
I stepped out into the garden.
The grass was damp beneath my feet. The scent of jasmine and nightbloom flowers surrounded me. Moonlight spilled across the stone path, making everything silver.
The garden stretched wide, trees lining the edges like quiet sentinels. A small fountain gurgled softly nearby.
I walked, slowly, breathing in the silence.
A breeze lifted the ends of my dress, carrying strands of my hair into the air like ribbons.
The suddenly… something felt strange.
I stopped.
Someone was watching me.