Contracted To The Alpha: The Last Breeder

Ella’s POV I should have known something was wrong the moment my foster mother smiled at me as I came out of my room wearing the dress they laid out for me. She never really smiled at me, only when she needed something anyway. Her lips stretched too wide in nervousness as if she had forgotten how to smile properly. Her voice was sweet, the same way you would talk to a nervous child before you snapped their favorite toy in half. Yes, that way and it made my skin crawl. “Ella, sweetheart,” she said, gently setting down the teacup she was holding. “You have always been such a sensible girl.” Lora was sitting stiffly across the room, her arms folded, and her face was a twisted mask of envy and humiliation.. The irregularity of werewolves' hierarchy and our usefulness for fertility had broken everything, our old rules, our ranks, our entire way of life had changed when it came to the ability to reproduce and suddenly, Omegas weren’t worthless anymore. We have become rare and precious. We had just found out that she doesn't possess the ability to conceive like the rest of the Omegas due to my mother’s genes or something, and for once, I wasn’t the one being scolded or being sneered at and that alone should have sent me running and never looked back.. But I stayed, because I was too scared to move. After all, the air had changed in the atmosphere, and I felt really important. I think they might need me for something important, and I wanted to know in what way. We Omegas have somehow become the only ones who can bear children. And in a world desperate to survive, that made us commodities, either marriageable, tradeable, or sellable, they have every use for us. They used to spit the word omega like it was dirt, but now, they said it like something gold, it meant something meaningful. “I know this is sudden,” my foster father added, clasping his hands in that false-priest way he did when trying to sound noble, “especially since your sister was chosen because of the way she carries herself like a noble, but your sister’s condition makes the original engagement. . . impossible.” And that's because she is Beta. Lora scoffed where she sat. I know she feels useless at the moment. Her condition, the fact that she couldn’t conceive, the fact that the entire family had spent months preparing for her to marry up into one of the most powerful Alpha bloodlines, only for her body to fail her must be a big blow. They would simply not say no to the Alpha. Then, comes me, the backup. The scrap that was never important. Now I was plan B. They wanted me to marry the cruel Alpha Cyril. The fact that they thought Lora was enough for everything they wanted and they didn't need to put any extra care for me was biting them in the ass, so even though I really do not feel interested in this arrangement, it made me glad. “You just need to be obedient and do what he asks of you,” my foster mother pressed. “If you give that Alpha an heir, you will be well taken care of, you will be respected and useful for our family and the pack.” Useful? My skin crawled at her statement. They were asking me to be a womb in exchange for social standing. And worse, they wanted me to replace Lora. Why would I be grateful for being someone’s replacement? I have a boyfriend that I love very much.. A boyfriend who had always supported me through all my predicament. I looked down at the dress they had forced me into. Soft silk and too expensive but it belongs to someone else, it belongs to my sister and I'm replacing her “You’re not even trying to look happy,” Lora snapped. My smile was a slow, sharp curl. “It must be hard watching your leftovers get a crown.” I replied to her and her face went red, she lunged forward like she was about to slap me. My foster father barely held her back. “She will ruin this!” she hissed. “She is going to embarrass us in front of the Alpha!” “No, she won’t, you stupid girl. She is helping you right now but you stand there looking like a useless commodity,” my foster mother said coldly but her eyes locked on mine. My heart beat became so fast, this was the only time my foster mother has ever scolded my sister. This must really be serious.. “. . .Because she knows what happens if she does.” The threat wasn’t spoken aloud. It didn’t have to be because I know, in this case, they will do their best to beat me, disgrace me, and strip me of everything I hold dear, simply because they can. I nodded to my family slowly and obediently, just the way they wanted. “You have fed me and clothed me, so I know this is a sacrifice I have to make” “Good girl,” my foster mother smiled as she held my hands and led me to the car waiting outside, but my heart was already beating too fast and I could almost hear my pulse being too loud. The transport they sent was sleek and beautiful, probably worth our whole family. I sat between two Betas in suits too tight to hide the weapons underneath, while my foster parents sat in the vehicle behind us. The Betas probably wanted me to see that they carried a weapon to intensify my fear. But they didn’t speak to me, they barely even looked at me. They just drove me down winding roads toward Alpha Cyril’s territory. I watched the trees blur past the window and forced my breathing to stay steady. My heart twisted thinking of him. The only one who ever looked at me like I was worth something, like I mattered in this world of chaos. If I made it out of here alive, without these rock-looking men catching me, I would be in Hans’ place in no time. I wonder what he would say when he sees me. I wonder if he would take me inside his house like he has always done. I wonder if he would protect me. But I won't know the answers to my questions if I don't find a way to escape. Thankfully, the vehicle slowed at a checkpoint and I immediately knew this was my chance. I know they would not kill me, they dare not. I shifted in my seat as one guard came down to attend to the official, the other guard looked forward and was still in his seat. I inhaled once. . . Twice and I then moved. I slammed the side door open with my shoulder and jumped. The air tore past me, cold and unforgiving. I hit the ground hard, knees scraping raw, gravel biting into my palms. Pain burst up my side, but I was moving, already scrambling to my feet before the guards could make any move. “Stop her!” my foster mother’s voice rang behind me, but there is no way I'm stopping.