New Breeder

Draco.

The sound of bones snapping echoed in the room, and in place of a beast, now stood a man, Draco.

He grunted at the sight of blood pooled around the breeding room. Lying still amid the pool was another of his victims. She was dead, unmoving. Her body mangled into pieces.

Draco moved aside to the window, watching the black sky as his sentinels bounced in, carrying the lifeless body away. Draco’s spirit was restless.

After the sentinels carried the body away, Draco helped himself with a bath. His mind was saturated with thoughts until he felt his beta’s presence.

“It wasn’t a success,” Alfos intoned, not needing to ask what had occurred as he walked into the bathhouse.

“Were you expecting anything different?” Draco’s tone was sharp as it cut through the air.

“We all do, Dracolian Abistroghato Throne. Always,” Alfos said with conviction, and that angered Draco. In the bid to get away from his beta, he slipped out of the steamy water, bare.

On his way out of the large bathhouse, he grabbed his robe and tied it around his waist, strutting out.

Draco had only walked twenty steps away from the royal bathhouse when Alfos sauntered out and hollered.

“You’ve a new breeder!”

Damn the sky! Draco muttered under his breath. A new breeder meant another victim. In a rage, he paused and turned to his beta.

“I do not want any more females! No more breeders!” He roared, practically vibrating.

“Dracolian, you do not have an option! Do not act like you do!” Alfos boomed, wanting his words to sink into the king’s mind. The mind that had for years been altered into that of a monster.

“Taking her means taking the tenth Luna,” Draco hummed, his shoulders deflated. For all he could remember, he had married nine female humans just to father a child which according to an abbot might break the curse but nothing was working.

All of those females ended up dead. None lived to tell the tale of the horrors they witnessed in his hand.

“If that’s what you’ll do to save our people then you must…” Alfos insisted.

Draco shook his head. He wished Alfos understood his misery. Hell, no one in Abbator would understand what it means to suffer such a fate.

“I can’t continue. After the nine dead Lunas, it’s obvious I cannot stand the touch of a woman. I do not wish to continue that killing spree…” He gritted out and whirled back around to continue his walk to his chambers.

“Then what about our mission?” Alfos’ words halted Draco in his tracks. His body visibly started to shake. As always, the thought about the mission always sent him on edge.

Alfos trod closer to him, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Would you want the demon clan to take what’s yours--- ours, forever?”

Draco’s throat worked as he dimmed his eyes. So many things flashed through his mind. The deadline. His lost throne. His heritage and the lives of his people.

“Alfos…” He murmured, helpless. Alfos knew he had spoken to Draco’s soul and at that, he chimed in.

“Five feet tall, raven hair, olive skin. Round sparking blue eyes. That is the description of your new breeder,”

Alfos could very much refer to her as his new victim. The word breeder made it sound mild.

“Nice.” He continued walking, shoving past the sentinels and male servants that littered the tower. “What if she’s not fit to be my breeder?”

“The elder’s test will confirm that but until then, you need to see her,” Alfos hurriedly said, trying to convince the alpha lord.

“I do not desire to see her. Until the test, I don’t want the sight of her around the castle,”

It was a command, one that Alfos knew not to disobey. He watched the lord’s frame disappear from the corner, cussing.

Draco hastened his movement, skidding past his men. The urge to get away from it all brimmed his mind. In record time, he flounced into his chamber, clanging the door shut. He exhaled a long string of breath, recounting how the night went awry with his last female Luna.

“Lord alpha…”

The voice lured him from his deepest thoughts and Draco looked up. On his bed laid his male Attendants. Like the Blossoms, Attendants were males trained to give pleasure in Bloomington.

Of course, the alpha lord’s Attendants were carefully selected.

The two Attendants had only their subligaria on, hard and beading at the tip for the lord. One moved closer with the intent to remove the lord’s clothing but he stopped him midway.

“You’re all dismissed, Micah. Jed.” Draco ordered in a firm voice that left no room for argument.

“Yes, my lord,” Both Attendants chorused and gingerly exited the room.

With them gone, the lord ran his hand through his hair, a tired sigh escaping his lips. He walked into his balcony, needing some respite only the fresh air could provide.

He stood on the balcony, overlooking his domain, Abbator, as males strutted by. Just when he decided to rest his elbows on the parapet, he heard the loud bang, coming from the room above.

The bang sounded like someone was breaking something.

*

*

Isolde.

Dread was all Isolde felt when Alfos locked her in. It crawled around the depth of her gut as she faced the room cell. The brick walls were dark. The bed in the corner was larger than the one she had in Kalingrad but none of that mattered to her.

At the moment, Isolde needed to find a way to escape this place. She flounced around the room, searching.

Holding the candle, she edged to the chest and pulled it open, darting her eyes around for any key.

Her father was a locksmith, so she could easily pry the lock open and flee but she found nothing.

Frustrated, she thought of plan B. Escape through the window. It didn’t matter if she was in a tower whatsoever. With the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she could navigate whatever ledge no matter how narrow it was.

The window had metal bars and she needed to break them. Fortunately, Isolde found a rock idling beside the chest. She took hold of it and began to bang furiously on the metal bars. The need to escape filled her muscles with strength.

Isolde held on, banging while keeping her ears out for any of the sentinels that might come to intercept her.

Eventually, the metal bars, that clung to the concrete tenaciously as the root of a tree deep into the sand, caved.

Isolde pulled back and exhaled, wiping the dots of sweat on her face as she dropped the rock.

Taking one last breath, she climbed the bed, holding onto the wall. The moment her head propped out, she studied the height.

She was a hundred and fifty feet off the ground. A teeny gasp of dread shot through her, however, the ledge and trellis gave Isolde a little hope.

Oh, there was a balcony beneath her. If she carefully followed the trellis, she’d land on the balcony and escape from there.

Happy with that conclusion, Isolde began her escape. She grunted as sweat layered her face, regardless of the cool air, dripping into her eyes while she climbed. Her feet and hands latched successfully on the ledge.

In time, she slipped onto the trellis and climbed through it until her hand latched on the balcony’s parapet.

A song of victory nearly made it out of her mouth but she held it in. It was too early to rejoice.

After discarding the thoughts, she climbed over the parapet and fell into the balcony. A wince left her on reflex. Rubbing her forehead, she rose to her feet to continue moving.

Two steps into the balcony, Isolde froze.

There was a figure in the dark. A man and only his Iridescent eyes shone. He had shoulder-length hair and scruff and was as tall as a tree.

Oh, no. Had she walked into a monster? The thought came but Isolde disbanded it fast.

With a pounding heart, she turned, shaking as she tried to flee. Maybe jump over the parapet…

And die? A voice spoke in her mind.

Yes, death was better than standing before a monster!

Just as she perched her hand over the rail, a dark, brooding voice thundered.

“Stop whatever you’re doing, female.”

Was there magic laced in his voice because it had Isolde freezing on the spot?

The dark monster shifted a bit, coming under the burning torch on the balcony, revealing his face.

Isolde’s breathing stopped the moment she set her eyes on him. Sharp chiseled jaw and black tousled hair revealed under the light. His eyes still glowed like embers burning on the horizon. But what dulled Isolde’s heart tempo was the huge gory scar that ran through his brow down to his cheek.

“Is that you, Andriandita?” The male’s voice boomed as his eyes devoured her with expectations.

TBC.