forced breeder

forced breeder
THALIA

The words struck me harder than a slap.

"What?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.

No one laughed. No one moved. That somehow made it worse.

Savior looked at me with an expression I could not read. "Her duty shall be to the crown," he continued. "She has been deemed the most compatible female to bear my heir."

My stomach dropped.

"Should she conceive, the child shall be raised within the royal household and recognized as the issue of the King and his Luna."

The room seemed to tilt.

"The breeding mate shall be afforded protection under the crown. No one shall touch her without royal permission. Any harm brought upon her shall be regarded as an offense against the throne."

The words continued. But I heard almost none of them.

Breeding mate. That was what he had called me. Not his mate. Not his queen. Not even a woman worthy of standing beside him. A breeder. My own mate had just reduced me to a vessel for his heir before the entire court.

A royal whore. That was what they would call me when I was out of earshot.

And if I bore a child... my breath caught. Savior would take it. The child he had once made certain I could never conceive. The child he had never wanted from me. He would take whatever came from my body and place it in the arms of the woman who hated me more than life itself.

Janette.

My vision filled with tears.

"Bring her forward."

A guard took my arm. My knees nearly gave way as he guided me toward the throne.

"Swear your loyalty to the King, and to the King alone."

The old oracle stood waiting. His white beard reached nearly to his chest as he held out a golden chalice. Wine filled it. But beneath the sharp scent of grapes was another smell. Metallic. Familiar. Blood. Savior's blood.

My fingers trembled. I stared through the tears gathering in my eyes. Across the chamber, Janette was smiling. Not openly. Not enough for anyone else to notice. But I saw it. The small curve of her lips. The satisfaction in her eyes. She was watching me surrender everything she had ever wanted. My place. My child. My future.

"Go on, child," the oracle urged.

The silence stretched.

"Swear."

I could not breathe. The chalice shook between my fingers. I looked toward the throne. Savior was watching me. Waiting. Commanding.

And suddenly, something inside me went still. I had spent too long being afraid of him. Too long lowering my head. Too long allowing everyone else to decide what would become of me.

My lips parted. "I…" My voice broke. I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I cannot."

The oracle's brows drew together. "Thalia—"

I lifted my head. This time, I did not look away from Savior. My hands were still trembling. My knees were weak. Tears still covered my cheeks. But I was no longer afraid of what my answer would cost me.

"I will not."

The chalice slipped from my fingers. It struck the stone floor.

CRACK.

The sound rang through the chamber. No one breathed.

Then Savior slowly rose from his throne. The scrape of his robes against the stone was the only sound in the room. His eyes never left mine. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. Far too quiet.

"Guards."

Two soldiers stepped forward. I heard the steel of their weapons leave their sheaths.

And then Savior gave his next command.

"Take her to the dungeons."

I struggled against the guards, but they were anything but gentle. They dragged me from the throne room and threw me into the dungeon. The iron door slammed shut behind me.

Cold seeped through the thin fabric of my dress almost immediately. The stone floor was damp beneath me, and the air smelled of moisture, dirt, and something rotten.

I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them tightly.

Then I saw it. A rat. The largest rat I had ever seen in my life. It scurried along the wall before disappearing into a crack between the stones.

So this was where Ellie had been punished. This was where they brought people when they wanted to break them.

I buried my face against my knees, and the tears came. Maybe I should have accepted. Maybe I should have lowered my head and agreed to become a breeder for my true mate. The thought made me sick.

Janette had already taken everything from me. My place. My mate. My happiness. And now even the child I had not yet conceived belonged to her.

I could have endured almost anything for Savior. I could have swallowed my pride. I could have endured his coldness. But this? This was too much.

Still, as the hours dragged on, regret began to creep into my heart. Not because I wanted to become his breeder. Because I was beginning to understand that I might not survive my refusal.

One day passed. Then another. Then another.

No food. No water. The guards fed the prisoners closer to the entrance of the dungeon, but they never came as far as my cell. They left me in the darkness to rot.

By the fifth day, my lips had turned blue from the cold. They were cracked, swollen, and bleeding. My body had grown so weak that even sitting upright felt like a battle.

By the seventh day, I was begging for death.

My wolf tried to keep us alive. I hated her for it. I cursed her in my mind for making us love a monster who had not even hesitated before offering our future child to his wife. I cursed the Goddess too. What kind of life was this? What had I done to deserve it? I had never asked for this mate. Never asked to be born into a life where the person destined to love me would become the person who destroyed me. I just wanted it to end.

And when I finally thought death had come for me, I heard movement outside my cell.

My head barely lifted. My vision had grown worse. Everything was blurred now, nothing more than shadows moving through the darkness. But I recognized the white beard. The oracle. And behind him stood Savior. Even through my failing sight, he was somehow clear. Perhaps my eyes simply refused to forget him.

"So, Thalia." His voice was calm. Almost gentle. "I offer you a second chance."

I could barely keep my head up.

"Do you choose death…" He paused. "…or do you choose life?"

My head dropped. A bitter sadness settled over me. Even now. Even after seven days without food or water. He was still giving me the same choice. Except it was not a choice.

I was too weak to cry. Too weak to speak. But if he forced me to choose between my life and my child, I knew my answer. I would rather die.

The iron doors opened. Several guards entered. They lifted me from the floor, and my knees buckled beneath me. They forced me into a kneeling position.

I tried to fight. I truly did. But my body had nothing left to give.

"No…" The word barely escaped my lips.

The oracle approached slowly, the golden chalice trembling slightly in his hand. I shook my head. "No…"

Two guards seized my face. One gripped my jaw while the other forced my mouth open. I struggled weakly, but it was useless.

The oracle raised the chalice. The metallic scent reached me. Blood. I tried to turn my head. The liquid poured into my mouth. I choked. The guards clamped my mouth shut and covered my nose, leaving me no choice but to swallow.

Tears slipped down my cheeks. I swallowed once. Then again. The chalice was emptied. The oracle lowered it.

"It is done."

My body suddenly felt strangely light. The room began to spin. The last thing I heard was Savior's voice.

"You are now my breeder, Thalia."

Then everything went black.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hello, my dear readers.

It has been a while. Honestly, I don't even know how to begin this note because so much has happened while I was away. I lost people who were very important to me, and grieving them took a lot out of me. I had to step away from writing for a while. Even when I finally returned, I struggled to find the same excitement and confidence I once had for this book. There were days I opened the chapter and simply stared at the screen because I didn't know what to write. I started wondering if anyone was still waiting for Thalia's story or if I had already disappointed you too much by being gone for so long.

I am truly sorry for disappearing. I know some of you have been waiting, and I don't take that for granted. Grief is strange. Sometimes you think you are ready to move forward, and then something as simple as opening your manuscript reminds you that you are still hurting.

But I have decided to finish this book. I owe that to Thalia, to this story, and most importantly, to everyone who stayed and waited for me. My writing may feel a little different now. I may make mistakes along the way, especially with the characters or details I have written before. If you notice something that doesn't make sense or something I may have gotten wrong, please tell me. I would genuinely appreciate it.

And thank you for giving me another chance to finish Thalia's story. I hope you will be patient with me as I find my way back into this book.