Chapter 2

Leah's POV

I froze.

My eyes widened, and judging by the way the matron's mouth fell open, I wasn't the only one who thought we'd heard something wrong.

Alpha Roman?

Mooncreek's Alpha, Royalwood Academy's star Alpha, and the kingdom's terrifying war god? That Alpha Roman?

The same man who treated Clarissa like a piece of shit stuck to his shoe?

I had seen him up close a few times, and the man looked as if the very idea of having a woman near him offended his entire existence. Clarissa had provided enough demonstrations of his disgust to convince anyone. He barely acknowledged her, and whenever she tried to get his attention, he looked ready to have her thrown out of the room.

So why the hell would he need a breeder?

“Wait a minute.” The matron frowned at her ledger, then looked at me as if I had personally arranged this disaster. “There must certainly be some mistake somewhere. Confirm the records of registered requests for breeders.”

Another matron hurried over to check the records. She scanned the page, ran her finger down a column, and checked it again before lifting her head.

“There's no mistake, Matron.”

The first matron stared at her. “Are you certain?”

“Yes. Her name is registered against Alpha Roman's request.”

I nearly choked.

His request?

What request? When had he requested a breeder? And why was my name attached to it?

“Send her up,” the second matron said, sounding as though she were discussing a sack of potatoes. “She'll get acquainted with him, and he'll decide what to do with her from there. If he finds her worthy of keeping in his manor, that's fine. If he doesn't, we'll make space for her at the breeding house.”

The fuck?

I looked from one woman to the other, waiting for somebody to laugh and admit this was an elaborate joke. Neither of them did.

What did they think I was? Some goods they could deliver to a man's doorstep and leave him to decide whether I was worth keeping?

I wasn't doing this. I didn't care if the man was an Alpha, a war god, or the bloody king himself. They couldn't just assign me to someone and expect me to accept it.

Before I could open my mouth, a matron seized my arm and pulled me away from the other women. She shoved a folded pamphlet into my hand. My name was printed at the top, with Alpha Roman's name beside it.

I stared at the two names.

Mine. His.

I had officially lost my mind.

“Read the rules and conduct code carefully,” she ordered. “You are expected to understand your responsibilities before you enter your master's residence.”

Master? Oh, absolutely not.

I unfolded the pamphlet. The first line made my stomach turn.

RULES AND CONDUCT FOR ASSIGNED BREEDERS

1. Your body belongs to your master. You will not refuse his lawful demands.

2. Your primary duty is to bear children for your master and continue his bloodline.

3. Disobedience, resistance, or attempts to escape will result in punishment.

4. You will maintain your master's residence, obey his instructions, and never bring shame upon his household.

5. A breeder who serves well may eventually earn her freedom and the assets granted upon release.

I read the last line twice.

Earn her freedom?

Like a dog being rewarded for learning how to sit?

My stomach lurched. I pressed my lips together, fighting the urge to gag right there. There were more rules on the page, but I'd seen enough to understand the message. They had taken a human being, stripped away every right she possessed, and printed the whole disgusting arrangement on a piece of paper as if that made it respectable.

I had heard stories about the assignments, of course. Everyone had. But hearing about something and standing there with your own name attached to it were two very different things.

Until today, I had always believed there would be a way out. A chance to argue. Somebody who might listen if I explained that I had other plans for my life.

Instead, I was being handed a pamphlet explaining how to become somebody's property.

“Keep that with you,” the matron said, tapping the paper in my hand. “You'll be expected to follow the rules.”

I looked at her. “And what happens if I don't?”

Her expression hardened. “You will learn.”

Wonderful. Very informative. I felt so much better.

She dragged me through the pack house, ignoring my attempts to slow down and look around. We passed several corridors before she stopped in front of a door and pushed it open.

“Inside.”

I stepped into the room, and my nose immediately wrinkled.

The place was dimly lit, with a large bed covered in rose petals. Some strange, warm fragrance hung in the air, thick enough to make me feel as though I had walked into a bottle of perfume and gotten trapped inside it. The window was locked, and heavy curtains blocked most of the daylight.

Then I noticed the dress laid out on the bed.

I stared at it.

Was that even a dress? It looked more like something a f*cking stripper would wear. The neckline plunged so low that her breasts would practically fall out, and the thin material was nearly transparent.

I shook my head.

No. Absolutely not. I would rather wear a potato sack.

“Change into that and make yourself presentable,” the matron ordered. “When Alpha Roman arrives, you will welcome him properly. Your duty is to please him. Do not embarrass yourself or bring trouble upon this household.”

She looked me over one last time, apparently dissatisfied with the product she had been assigned to deliver.

“Remember your position, Leah.”

Then she walked out and shut the door.

For a few seconds, I stood perfectly still.

Then my brain finally started working again.

Right. Plan B.

Get the fuck out of here.

I marched to the window and tried the lock. It wouldn't budge. I tugged harder, then tried the handle again, just in case the window had suddenly developed a conscience. Nothing.

Fine. The door it was.

I glanced at the ridiculous dress on the bed and shuddered. They honestly expected me to put that on and wait for a man who supposedly hated women to come and do whatever he wanted with me?

Were they all insane?

I wasn't staying long enough to find out. If I could slip past the matrons without being seen, I might reach the outer grounds before anyone realised I was gone. And if somebody tried to stop me, an elbow to the face should hopefully knock them out long enough for me to run.

It wasn't the most brilliant plan I'd ever come up with, but considering my current circumstances, I deserved points for trying.

I moved towards the door and carefully turned the handle. Slowly, I eased it open, peering through the gap to make sure the corridor was empty.

Clear.

Perfect.

I slipped through the doorway, already preparing to run, only to walk straight into a solid chest.

I stumbled backwards.

No. No, no, no.

Goddess, please. Don't do this to me. Not now.

I slowly lifted my head.

The man standing before me was tall, his expression cold enough to freeze the air around us. His blue eyes were dead serious, and there wasn't a single welcoming thing about his face.

I knew those eyes.

I knew that face.

I had admired this man for years, plastered his achievements all over my dreams, and imagined the day I might earn a place at the academy that had made him who he was.

Now I was standing in a room dressed like a cheap offering, trying to escape before he could claim me.

I met his gaze. It was really him. Alpha Roman.