Died A Breeder, Reborn A Stripper

Summer

“Leave.”

My mother-in-law, Fiona, snapped at me, her voice sharp, I had barely pulled out a chair beside my husband when she spoke again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked me up and down. “You think that seat is meant for you?”

I slowly turned to my husband, hoping just once that he would say something. But he didn’t, he just sat there, his expression blank, as though none of this concerned him. As though I wasn’t standing right there, being humiliated in front of everyone.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look away. I shouldn’t be surprised, he had never spoken to me since our wedding day. Not even a glance that acknowledged I existed.

A bitter laugh escaped Fiona’s lips. “You think he’s going to defend you?” she mocked. “He doesn’t care about you. In fact, I doubt he even knows you exist.”

Her words echoed in my chest, “Now get out,” she continued, waving her hand dismissively. “That seat is reserved for my future daughter-in-law, not you.”

Before I could react, the sound of heels clicking against the floor filled the room. Tamara walked in like she owned the place, her back straight, her chin slightly raised. Everything about her screamed perfection, her flawless makeup, her expensive designer outfit, the confidence in every step she took.

As she reached the table, she brushed past me carelessly, her shoulder knocking into mine. I stumbled backward, barely keeping my balance, while she calmly took the seat beside my husband.

My hands tightened at my sides as I forced myself to stand straight again. Slowly, I looked around the table, hoping to find anywhere to sit but there was no space.

Some of the people avoided my gaze completely, as if I were invisible. Others stared openly, their eyes filled with disdain. A few looked at me with pity, which somehow felt even worse.

My chest tightened, and I felt the sting of tears building in my eyes. I took a slow breath, lifting my chin slightly as I gathered what little dignity I had left. Without saying a word, I turned around to walk out of the dining room. I will eat dinner in my room.

I lingered for a moment, my eyes drifting back to the table. Tamara leaned closer to my husband, her lips moving as she whispered something meant only for him. Yet, he remained unchanged—his face cold, distant. He didn’t respond, didn’t even turn to acknowledge her presence.

I quietly turned, ready to leave, but Fiona’s voice cut through the air again. “And where exactly do you think you’re going?” she asked, her tone sharp and controlling.

I paused, lowering my gaze. “There’s nowhere for me to sit, I’ll just have my dinner upstairs,” I replied softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

A slow, mocking smile spread across her lips. “Who said there isn’t a place for you?” she said, tilting her head slightly. “There’s a spot perfectly suited for someone like you.”

She snapped her fingers once. A maid immediately stepped forward, bowing her head slightly in respect. “Serve Miss Summer her meal,” Fiona instructed smoothly.

The name felt strange coming from her lips. She never called me by their family name; she had made it clear from the beginning that someone of my background had no right to it.

I stood still as the maid carefully plated the food. Once she finished, she lifted the dish and waited quietly for the next command. Fiona’s eyes returned to me, filled with cold amusement. “You should be grateful we even allow you to eat what we eat,” she said. “Judging by your appearance, you’ve been enjoying that privilege a little too much.”

My fingers curled slightly, but I stayed silent. “Take the plate from her,” she continued, gesturing lazily. “Go over there.”

Her finger pointed toward an empty corner of the dining room. “Sit on the floor and eat. And do it quietly.”

The maid approached me, holding the plate out carefully. “I’ll just go upstairs,” I tried again, my voice still gentle, though a hint of strain slipped through. I already knew resisting wouldn’t end well.

A sharp scoff came from the table. “Are you actually that foolish?” Tamara’s voice rang out, laced with ridicule. “You think you can question her?” She leaned back in her seat, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “Or are you asking to be punished tonight?”

“I’ll handle her myself, darling,” Fiona said smoothly, though the irritation in her voice was unmistakable. Her gaze shifted to me, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll go to that corner, sit on the floor, and finish that meal immediately.”

I didn’t hesitate again, I took the plate from the maid with slightly trembling hands and walked toward the corner she had pointed at. Lowering myself to the floor, I placed the food carefully in front of me and began to eat. My vision blurred as tears gathered in my eyes, but I forced myself to continue.

“Mother, be gentle with her. You know what’s at stake if anything happens to her.”

The voice came unexpectedly, I froze. It was the first time Ethan had spoken since everything began. I slowly lifted my head.

I was married to Ethan Lancelot, the Lycan king. Ruler of all werewolves. A man feared by many and understood by none. He was known for one thing above all else, his coldness.

He never showed emotion. Not anger, not joy, not even the smallest hint of concern. His face was always the same—calm, detached, almost inhuman.

“Exactly what I’m doing,” Fiona replied without hesitation. “Tell me, why does someone like her even breathe the same air as us?”

“Look at me.” I immediately raised my head. Her eyes locked onto mine, filled with nothing but disdain. “Don’t ever think of yourself as his wife,” she said slowly, making sure every word sank deep. “This marriage is nothing but a façade. The only reason you carry that title is so the child you produce won’t be called illegitimate, Know your place,” she finished.

I nodded silently, I shouldn’t let it hurt this much. But it did because I know this is the fifth time this is happening. Four of my sisters had stood where I was standing now. Four of them had endured this same cruelty under this same woman. And all four, had died trying to give birth to the Lycan king’s child.

For generations, the seers would visit certain families—marking them as chosen, blessed to carry the king’s offspring, the breeders. No ordinary wolf, not even a Lycan, could survive such a pregnancy. Only those marked by fate were considered worthy.

My mother had prayed endlessly for sons, hoping to escape that fate. But she gave birth to five daughters instead. One by one, my sisters were taken and One by one, they died.

The grief destroyed my parents, leaving nothing behind but silence and emptiness. And now I was the last one left.

A quiet fear settled deep inside me because I knew when the king finally decided to touch me, I might not survive it either.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice when Ethan left the table.

The sudden sound of hurried footsteps broke the tension, a maid rushed into the room, her breathing uneven, her face pale with panic. “Your Grace, there’s a storm outside!” she said, her voice shaking, her eyes wide with fear.

Fiona barely glanced at her, clearly unimpressed. “And what exactly do you expect me to do about it?” she said coldly. “Stop the storm for you?”

Soft laughter spread across the room. The maid quickly shook her head. “No, Your Grace… I—I went outside to retrieve a few things, and Lilo ran out. I can’t find him.”

Everyone in the room gasped, Fiona shot to her feet, her expression darkened instantly, fury flashing in her eyes.b“You’d better get out there and find him,” she growled, her fangs showing slightly. “If anything happens to Lilo, you’ll lose your head tonight.”

The maid didn’t waste another second. She turned and ran out into the storm. The atmosphere shifted immediately, everyone rose from their seats, murmuring anxiously.

I stood up as well, brushing my hands against my dress, pretending to share their concern. But I remained where I was, still near the corner, unsure of what to do. A small, calculating smile appeared on Tamara’s lips as her gaze landed on me.

She pointed in my direction. “You,” she said lightly. “Why don’t you act like a devoted wife for once and go out there to find your husband’s precious pet?”

My chest tightened, Fiona turned toward me at once, as if the idea pleased her. “Of course,” she said. “What are you waiting for? Go out there and bring Lilo back. And don’t you dare step foot in this house again without him.”

I stepped outside reluctantly, and the storm hit me at once. The wind was fierce, the rain blinding. I could barely see a few steps ahead as I struggled forward, calling out for Lilo, but my voice was lost in the chaos.

I took another step and my foot struck something, I stumbled and looked down. Lightning flashed, it was the maid. Her body lay still on the ground, soaked in rain and blood. A sharp piece of glass had torn through her face, leaving it disfigured, and her throat had been slit open.

I froze, fear gripping me.