Breed Me, Cursed Alpha (Werewolf Erotica) Novel – The sharp smell of bleach stings my nose as I scrub the alpha’s son’s bathroom, for the third time this week. There’s urine on the seat again. Kyle is nineteen, the future alpha of this pack, my younger half brother, yet he still can’t be bothered to lift the lid. I’m not his maid. I’m an omega. Which in this pack means I’m whatever they need to be, whenever they need it.
My knees ache against the tile, and the bucket beside me ripples as I wring out the rag with hands rough from cheap soap. My wolf stirs uneasily, but I push her back. Neither of us has the freedom to react. “Lyra!” Marissa’s voice slices through the hallway, and I flinch on instinct. I rise quickly, abandoning the half-cleaned toilet. My joints protest, and for a moment, I feel older than twenty-two. Marissa waits at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed, nails tapping against her arm. She’s beautiful in an icy, flawless way. Everything I’m not. And she’s my stepmother, though she never allowed me to use the word. “The dishes aren’t done,” she says. “I was cleaning the bathrooms. You told me…” “Don’t talk back.” Her gaze sharpens. “The alpha wants to see you. Now.” My stomach drops. The alpha never wants to see me.
Marcus Kane could go months without acknowledging I exist, unless it’s to remind me I shouldn’t have. I follow the west-wing staircase, each step heavier than the last. I’ve cleaned his office countless times, always when he’s away. It smells like leather, old books, and that sharp, electric scent of dominance that makes my wolf bow its head. I knock. “Come in.” Marcus Kane sits behind a massive desk, papers neatly arranged. The only visible similarity between us is our pale blue eyes, though his feel like winter ice. “Sit,” he says without looking up. I obey, folding my hands to keep them from trembling. “Do you know why you’re here?” “No, sir.” He studies the document in front of him, then finally lifts his gaze. “Your mother was a breeder. Valuable to the pack. She gave life where others couldn’t.” A beat. “But she died giving birth to you.” The unspoken truth hangs between us: A wolf dying in childbirth is considered a curse. And I’ve lived under that shadow my entire life. “I’ve been patient,” he continues. “Marissa wanted you gone the moment you were born. But I thought perhaps you would grow into something useful.
You haven’t.” “I work,” I say defensively, barely above a whisper. “I do everything the pack needs.” “You do what any omega could do.” His expression doesn’t flicker. “And I’m tired of wasting pack resources.” He slides a paper across the desk. The red circle with crosshairs hits first. Trade Sport. My heartbeat stops. And then starts back up again. Rapidly. Trade Sport isn’t just a show… it’s the show. The most-watched bloodsport on the continent. Every season, millions tune in to watch packs offer up their unwanted. Twenty bodies thrown into the Bloodwood forest for twelve hours of televised survival.
The Hunters stalk the contestants with high-tech collars and guns that never miss. The rules are simple: Run. Hide. Endure. No one ever wins. They only die slower or faster. “No…” My voice cracks. “No, please.” “The contract is signed,” he says simply. “Payment received.” “I’ll die.” “Yes.” The word lands like a stone. “Dad…” The word escapes before I can stop it. His expression hardens instantly. “Don’t ever call me that. You are not my daughter. You are the thing that crawled out of a dying breeder and took her last breath. You are the reason I had to wait two more years for the son I actually wanted. Every time I look at you, I’m reminded of my failures as an Alpha.” I flinch. “I’m sorry. I just… please don’t send me there. I’ll work harder. I’ll leave the pack. I’ll… anything.” “For years you have drained our food, our space.” His tone doesn’t rise; it doesn’t need to. “Trade Sport offered one point two million for you.
Enough to fund the new training wing. Consider it the only value you will ever provide.” My breath catches. “You sold me?” “Oh hush… don’t be dramatic. It’s a public event. Plenty of omegas participate. An honor really.” “You leave in two weeks,” he continues. “Transportation to the facility is arranged. The pack is aware. No one objected.” “Please,” I try again, barely audible. Marcus stands and adjusts his jacket. “You should be grateful. For once, you’re doing something meaningful.” He steps toward the door, then pauses. “I hope you at least last long enough to make it worth the money.” The door closes behind him with a quiet click. Two weeks until I’m taken to the Bloodwood… where twenty go in and not one comes out. I don’t know how long I sit there before my body moves on instinct.
I stand and step out. I make it halfway down the hallway when a shout slices through the air. “Lyra! Get your ass up here!” Kyle. My hands curl tighter around the contract. I should run. But my legs move of their own accord, compelled by years of conditioning. Kyle waits in his doorway, leaning casually against the frame. Marissa’s golden child. “You didn’t finish cleaning my room,” he says. “I was called to see the alpha,” I manage. “I’ll finish it now…” I step inside. The stench of stale beer, sweat, and dirty laundry clings to the air. He shuts the door behind me with a solid thud. “You think you can just walk out of my room before you’re done?” Kyle circles me slowly. “Don’t forget what you are. The cursed omega who killed her own mother.” The familiar barb hits its mark.
He steps closer, voice dropping. “You know what people said after you were born? That even your mother chose death rather than raise you. That’s how unwanted you were.” My throat tightens. “Kyle…please.” “What you need,” he cuts in, “is a reality check.” He pulls out his phone and turns the camera on me. “Smile.” I don’t. “Fine. Then kneel. Show me what an obedient omega looks like.” My knees hit the floor before I can think. Kyle angles the camera from above. “Look at that. Perfect.” He grabs my chin, forcing my head up. The phone hovers inches away. “Tell them how excited you are for Trade Sport.” My stomach twists violently. “I…I’m not…” He squeezes harder until my jaw aches. “Say it.” My lips tremble. “I’m…honored to represent the pack.” He steps back, filming me from different angles. “Since you’re about to be hunted on national television, I might as well give the fans a preview.