Chapter 1: you passed

549’s POV

The buzz of my alarm clock brought me back to life.

It was 6:45am on the third moon day. Which meant—

My room door burst open, and a familiar head of brown hair walked in.

My reaction was instant, almost instinctive. I wrapped my arms around my body, trying—but failing to cover my breast peeking out through the thin material of my nightgown.

“Morning to you too sunshine,” Elliot greeted, flashing me that crooked smile that made my skin crawl.

I shot out of the bed, my heart pounding in my chest, my steps frantic as I hurried to the door, desperate to avoid him.

“Not so fast,” he called in a low whisper.

Of course.

How could I forget?

I stopped, my body going completely still. Something twisted in my gut as he approached me, that sharp stench assaulting my senses, making bile rise up to my throat.

I clenched my jaw, my head remaining high.

It’s okay.

It’s routine.

His hand came up to my side, then slowly—deliberately—he patted down, his fingers lingering a second too long, his body getting closer like it always did, his hot breath fanning my face.

I didn’t move, didn’t show how repulsed I was.

Finally, after deciding I posed no threat, he took a step back and gestured for me to leave.

I held back the string of curses I wanted to throw at him. A lady never lost her temper, a lady never cursed.

And besides, I wasn’t in the clear. Not yet.

“Took you long enough,” a small voice whispered. The moment I stepped out of my door.

Despite myself, a soft smile touched my lips as my gaze slid to the girl who lived next door.

“Hey there, twelve.”

She offered me a smile—or tried to. It didn’t reach her eyes.

She hated the pat downs too.

My gaze drifted beyond her, where another girl stepped out, and another, and another, till the long circular tier was dotted with hollow eyes and hunched shoulders.

I didn’t bother looking at their faces anymore. I already knew what I would find there.

I gripped the railing and let my eyes drift to the other side, where more doors lined the curved wall opposite me, identical to my own.

Girls stood on that tier too, small and distant, like reflections I didn’t want to claim.

I tilted my head up. More tiers, more doors, more girls, stacked in neat, cruel rows all the way up to the cold light that filtered through the sealed ceiling far above.

And below, if I made the mistake of looking down, the same thing waited—tier after tier spiraling into the open hollow center where nothing existed but air and the quiet understanding that there was nowhere to hide.

Every door faced another door. Every eye had something to land on. The building didn’t need walls to cage us. It simply made sure we could always be seen.

I looked straight ahead and felt nothing. That was the trick of it. You stopped feeling the exposure eventually. You just became part of the view.

“Go on,” twelve encouraged, and I was brought back to the present.

I turned to my side, joining the long line of girls heading to the staircase.

By now, Elliot had exited my room, helping the other guards lead us down orderly.

But we didn’t need them to keep things in order. We already knew what to do, how to act.

It had been our routine since we were born.

We had no parents, no guardians, just the higher ups who helped raise us to be perfect women, perfect wives—perfect breeders.

That was our sole purpose, our destiny. To breed with the species of wolf.

It had been our fate since the beginning of time.

We went down the stairs and down a series of dimly lit hallways, the red dot of a camera above watching us from every angle. They watched our every step, every move.

Then we stopped, and joined the line already waiting in front of a large, imposing door.

The line grew shorter with each passing minute, and I drew closer to the door.

Each girl stepped in and came out with an even more hollow eyes.

Or most of them at least.

Some of them came out with wide, satisfied smile on their faces.

Those were the kind of girls I envied. The ones who could see past everything else and smile.

I distracted myself by looking out through the barred window.

It was shut tight, had been that way since I was born.

The land beyond the walls was a graveyard of what once was. Crumbling structures reached toward a pale, washed out sky, their foundations swallowed by dry, cracked earth that hadn’t known rain in what felt like forever.

There were no trees, no color, just the skeletal remains of a world that had long since given up. A thick grey haze hung low over everything, blurring the horizon into nothing.

And yet somehow, beyond all of that grey and ruin, I had always believed there was something else.

Something alive, something worth reaching.

The last girl in front of me stepped into the room and within minutes came out with tears brimming in her eyes.

Then it was my turn.

“You’ve got this,” Twelve whispered from behind me.

I swallowed, feeling that familiar dread pool in my stomach.

You’ve got this.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward and twisted the doorknob.

The bright light assaulted my sensitive eyes even before I stepped in fully. But I didn’t flinch, didn’t blink.

“Number?” The nurse questioned without looking up, her voice devoid of any emotion.

“549,” I whispered.

That was me, my mode of identification. We were addressed by the numbers tattooed on the back of our necks.

“Sit.”

I walked on trembling limbs to the examination table and did exactly as I was told.

The nurse put on her gloves, the sound of the stretchy material hitting her skin echoed in the room like a sentence.

She finally lifted her gaze.

“What’re you doing?”

I hesitated, then leaned back, lying down.

“If you knew what to do,” she started impatiently, “then why didn’t you do it from the start?”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, my voice carrying that edge of nothing, “you told me to sit.”

She glared at me, then without another word, without permission—parted my legs.

I sucked in a breath, shutting my eyes.

Her gloved hand went up my thigh and to my core, probing.

I wasn’t here.

I was in a place I’ve always longed to be, the place far beyond this breeding facility, beyond the tress, beyond the wastelands.

I couldn’t feel her hands on my breast, my lower stomach, I could only feel the heat of the sun, the flowers brushing against my legs.

I couldn’t smell the fertility serum being injected into my bloodstream, I could only smell the fresh scent of beautiful flowers.

“When was your last cycle?” The nurse asked, pulling me back from my paradise.

“A week ago.”

She nodded, scribbling down on her notepad.

“You pass.”

The words sliced through me like a blade, making my breath catch in my throat.

They were supposed to be good news. But they landed like a curse.

Ar the ripe age of 18, I was a fertile ground, ready to be bred.

“Thank you,” I whispered, but my voice wavered this time.

I blinked away the tears as I stepped out the door, going through the motions, wondering what happened next.

When I’ll inevitably be picked and bred.