Breeder by Alice Knightsky 1 Sold as the Alpha Kings Breeder

"Oh god. Not again."

The scent of stale beer hit me as I walked through the front door. The house was a mess, empty bottles littering the floor. Victor, my step-dad, sat slumped on the couch, a half-empty bottle dangling from his hand.

He had always been a drunk from the very first time I met him, but it worsened as soon as he married my mom.

Each day felt like a nightmare, coming back home from work to meet an abusive, drunken stepdad.

I dreamed of escaping this life, of going to college and studying art. My sketchbook, hidden under my mattress, was filled with drawings of a future where I was free from Victor's tyranny. But those dreams felt like distant stars, unreachable and fading.

Victor roared when he saw me, the bottle clattering to the floor, scaring the shit out of me. "Look at you! Empty-handed again! Do you have any idea what your uselessness is costing me?"

"I am not empty-handed, Victor. You haven't even checked. I just didn't make enough money today," I replied, fear gripping my heart.

I'd worked all day at the diner, exhaustion clinging to me like a second skin. The tips hadn't been good, and I knew it wouldn't be enough. But I had no choice but to return home.

"What is the difference, you swine?"

This had been my life since my mom passed away six months after her marriage to Victor. He put himself in countless debts under my name as his guarantor, and now I was forced to pay his debts or bear the consequences.

Every loan shark in Creek Town knew who he was, and because I was affiliated with him, my name was also registered in the documents. I had no choice but to pay for it, or else I would be passed around like a slut to different Alphas and Betas.

Victor stood up from the couch, staggering, before he picked up an empty bottle from the floor. "Same story every time," he slurred as he took staggered steps towards me.

I already knew what was coming. The next thing, he threw the bottle at me, but I was quick to dodge it, so it landed on the wall.

"Victor, please stop!" I cried.

"How dare you?"

"I'm sorry! I'm not feeling well, please!"

He hated it when I dodged anything thrown at me. The sound of weapons hitting my skin gave him great satisfaction, but today was not the day. I was already beaten by the rain while coming back, and more than anything, I craved a hot bath. My hands were numb, and I had little strength. If only he could just let me be this night.

The clinking of bottles and the sound of them shattering against the walls filled the tiny living room. I crouched in the corner, my heart pounding as I watched Victor drunkenly stagger around. His eyes were wild with fury, his movements erratic as he threw another bottle, narrowly missing my head.

"Useless brat! Can't even bring back enough money to pay off my debts!" he slurred, his face red with rage.

I pressed myself further into the corner, tears streaming down my face. "Please, Victor, I tried. The shop owners wouldn't give me more credit too."

"Shut up!" He bellowed. His bloodshot eyes were wild with rage. "Your mother should've died sooner if this is the kind of pathetic excuse for a daughter she left behind."

My heart clenched at the mention of my mom. She'd been dead for a year now, her life claimed by a relentless addiction to drugs. Victor had taken me in, but only because he saw me as a means to an end. I was seventeen then, with no family left to turn to, no one to protect me from his wrath.

And what was worse? Today was my eighteenth birthday. I was holding onto the small streak of hope that today would be different, but I guess the Moon Goddess didn't care enough to grant me my little request.

Victor's hand lashed out, grabbing me by my hair and lifting me up to my feet. A sheer cry escaped my lips, but I tried not to be too loud as that would only attract more punishment.

"You're a worthless bitch!" he spat in my face, and the next thing, he hit me across the face.

The force of the blow sent me sprawling, pain exploding in my cheek. I tasted blood but bit back a cry, knowing it would only make things worse.

But he lifted me up again, this time holding me by the back of my dress, the front of it strangling me.