The Breeder Luna And Her Three Mates

Amaya's POV

"Run. Just bloody run."

I don't know if I'm speaking out loud or if the words are trapped inside my head where everything else is screaming. My bare feet slam against roots and rocks, tearing open, but I did not stop, not even for ones. The facility's antiseptic smell still clings to my skin, mixing with the copper tang of blood, mine, maybe someone else's. I don't remember anymore, I just want to get out of this place.

Branches claw at my arms, my face, my thighs through the thin medical gown that's all they left me. Each scratch burns, but it's nothing compared to the fire they put inside me. The injections. The restraints. The cold metal table and the faceless masks hovering over me while my body betrayed me, over and over again, burning from the inside out during those forced heats.

"Please ..no more.."

Was that me? Or was it Sera?

I stumble, catch myself against a tree trunk. Bark bites into my palms. Sera. Oh dense, Sera. Her screams are still echoing in my ears, high and desperate, coming from the room next to mine three nights ago. Then silence. The kind of silence that means they finally broke something that can't be fixed.

My stomach lurches with something I can't really phantom. I press my forehead against the rough bark, gasping for hair, I'm literally going crazy..

Move, Amaya. They're coming.

I can hear them now, boots pounding earth, dogs barking, men shouting coordinates into radios. They're close. My legs are shaking so hard I don't know how they're still holding me up. Every muscle in my body is screaming, exhausted from the drugs they pumped through my veins, from the testing, from the hell they called research.

Such a clean word for what they did to us. I push off the tree and run again. The forest blurs around me, green and brown and shadow. My lungs are on fire, each breath a sharp blade cutting my throat. How long have I been running? An hour or two? The sun's too low now, sinking between the trees, painting everything in blood-red light.

There's so much blood on my hands. Not all of it is mine. The guard at the south corridor, his eyes went wide when I grabbed the scalpel from the medical cart. I didn't think before driving it inside his stomach.

He fell, and I ran.

"Subject 47, stop! There's nowhere to go!"

The voice booms through a megaphone somewhere behind me. Subject 47. Not Amaya. Just a number. Just a womb they wanted to fill with their perfect hybrid offspring.

My vision swims. I'm seeing double, two paths ahead instead of one. I veer left, or maybe right, crashing through undergrowth that tears at my legs. The medical gown is mostly ribbons now, barely covering anything, but modesty died months ago in that place.

I grabbed a low branch and covered myself up. My arms are weak, shaking, but fear is stronger than exhaustion. I climb higher, bark scraping my stomach, my breasts, my thighs. Leaves close around me. I freeze, pressing myself flat against the trunk, trying not to breathe, trying not to exist.

Boots thunder past below.

"She went east! Move!"

The footsteps fade. I stay frozen, counting heartbeats. One hundred. Two hundred. My mouth tastes like salt. I run my tongue over my lips and it comes away red. Bit through my cheek without realizing what I just did.

When the forest goes quiet again, I climb down. My hands won't stop shaking. Everything hurts, bruises blooming purple and yellow across my ribs where they held me down, needle marks dotting my inner arms like awful constellations, the deep ache between my legs from their last examination.

Never again. I force myself forward. One foot, then the other. The trees are thinning. I can hear something new now, a rushing sound that grows louder with each step. Ocean. It has to be the ocean. I break through the tree line and stop.

The cliff drops away just ten feet ahead, a sheer wall of rock plunging down into churning water below. The sun's half-gone now, turning the waves gold and orange and violent. It's so far down. Too far.

Behind me, a dog barks.

"There! I see her!"

No. No no no no..

I ran to the edge. Pebbles skitter over the side, disappearing into the foam and rocks below. The wind whips my hair back, my tattered gown plastered against my body. I look down at the water and I look back at the forest where flashlight beams are cutting through the dusk like searchlights.

Back to the facility. Back to the table. Back to the needles and the burning and the screams and the guards who smiled when they strapped me down. Back to being Subject 47, an experiment, a vessel, a thing they owned.

"I'd rather die," I whisper to the wind. "I'll never be owned again."

The footsteps are getting closer. Voices shouting. Almost here. I close my eyes and step forward into nothing. The fall is silent in my head. Wind roars past, stealing my breath. I'm weightless, floating, free. For one perfect second, I'm nobody's subject, nobody's experiment. Just Amaya, falling deep down to her death maybe..

Then I smell something really intense, something cutting through the salt spray and blood. A scent, wild and male and impossibly strong, coming from somewhere on the wind. It wraps around me like invisible hands, and deep in my chest, something pulls. Tugs. Reaches. But the water's coming up fast, and the darkness is faster, swallowing the world whole..

Amaya's POV

The sheets are too soft. That's the first thing I notice when I wake up, softness against my skin instead of rough canvas straps. No restraints around my wrists. No cold metal beneath me. Just clean cotton and the smell of lavender instead of antiseptic, oh wow,this is amazing..

My eyes snap open. White ceiling. Sunlight streaming through gauzy curtains. A room that looks like it belongs in a luxury hotel, not a facility.

I bolt upright, and pain explodes through my ribs in a jiffy. My hand flies to my side, finding bandages wrapped tight around my torso. More bandages on my arms, my legs. Someone undressed me. Someone touched me while I was unconscious.

The panic slams into me like a fist. I can't breathe. Unable to think straight. The walls are closing in and I need to get out, need to run, need to..

"You're safe."

I whip around. A woman stands in the doorway, fifties, gray hair pulled back, kind eyes that I don't trust for a second. She holds up both hands like I'm a wild animal.

Maybe I am.

"My name is Principal Thorne. You're at Northridge Ice Academy. You've been asleep for ten days."

Ten days? I jump off the bed, stumble, catch myself against the nightstand. I'm wearing clean clothes, soft pants and a loose shirt that aren't mine. "Who changed me? Who touched me?"

"Our nurse. Only our nurse, I promise." She takes a careful step inside. "We found you on the rocks below Widow's Cliff. You should be dead, but somehow... you survived and that is really a miracle."

The cliff, how I actually jump. The water swallowing me whole. It comes back in fragments, cold, darkness, that strange scent on the wind right before everything went black.

"Where am I?" My voice sounds raw, broken.

"Northridge Ice Academy. A private school for.." She pauses. "gifted students."

Gifted. Code for something. Always code for something. I scan the room, one door behind her, one window to my left. Second floor, maybe third based on the tree line visible outside. I could make that jump if I had to.

"I want to leave."

"You can't." Her voice stays gentle, but firm. "You're registered under the name Amaya Rasford secured. The people looking for you won't find you here."

My blood runs cold. "How do you know people are looking for me?"

"Because girls don't wash up half-dead on beaches covered in medical restraint marks and needle tracks unless they're running from something very bad." Her eyes hold mine. "You're safe here. But you need to stay, blend in, become a student. At least until we can figure out what to do with you."

Blend in? Become a student. Like I'm normal. Like I didn't spend months as a lab rat.

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you walk out that door with no papers, no money, no protection, and they find you within a week max but we both know it will be a lot shorter than that." She steps aside, gesturing to the hallway. "It is entirely your choice."

Not really a choice at all.

+++++++

The uniform is crisp, navy blazer, white shirt, plaid skirt that falls just above my knees. I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror and don't recognize the girl looking back. Clean. Bandaged. Almost normal, if you don't look at the bruises still yellowing on my jaw or the haunted look in my eyes.

My hands won't stop shaking. I grip the sink edge until my knuckles go white. I just need to blend in and act like I have been doing this most of my life. I mean it is just school. What could possibly go wrong.

You can do this. Just breathe. Just survive.

The hallways are massive, vaulted ceilings, stone walls, students in matching uniforms streaming between classes. Rich kids. I can tell by the way they walk, confident and careless, like the world owes them everything and they know it.

I keep my back to the wall, tracking exits. Two at each end of the corridor. Windows every fifteen feet. Fire escape signs pointing to stairwells. My heart hammers against my ribs but I force my breathing steady.

Just blend in. Don't draw attention.

I found my first class, Advanced Supernatural History. The room falls quiet when I walk in. Twenty pairs of eyes lock on me, the new girl, the stranger. I feel their stares like hands on my skin and I want to claw my way out of my own body.

The teacher, Mr. Grayson, according to the board, gives me a tight smile. "Ah, Miss Rasford. Please, take any available seat."

I scan the room. Most desks are full, students sitting in clusters, but there are three empty seats in the back row by the windows. Perfect. I can see the whole room from there, and I'm close to an exit. I move toward them.

"Not there!" A girl with perfect blonde curls grabs my arm.

I flinch so hard I nearly hit her. My body moves on instinct, pulling back, hands coming up defensive. She drops my arm immediately, eyes wide.

"Sorry, I just.." She lowers her voice. "Those seats are taken."

I look at the empty chairs. "They're not here."

"They're never here. Not for first period, anyway." She glances around like she's worried someone might hear. "Those are the Alpha Heirs' seats. You don't sit there. You don't even look at them too long. Trust me."

Alpha Heirs. The way she says it, all reverent and nervous, makes my skin crawl. Another hierarchy. Another system where certain people have power over others. I spent six months being powerless.

"I'll sit where I want," I say, and take the window seat. The blonde girl makes a small sound of distress and hurries back to her desk. Whispers ripple through the classroom. Mr. Grayson clears his throat but doesn't tell me to move.

Good. Let them whisper. I'm done being afraid of bullies and alphas and anyone who thinks they own me.

The class drags on. I don't hear a word of it. My mind keeps drifting, back to the facility, to Sera's screams, to the scalpel sliding between the guard's ribs. My hands curl into fists under the desk. When the bell finally rings, I'm the first one out.

I need air. Need space. Need to get away from all these eyes and voices and the walls that feel too much like confinement.

I take the stairs two at a time, following signs until I find a door marked ROOF ACCESS - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

Perfect. I shove it open and step out into sunlight and wind. The roof is flat, scattered with ventilation units and..

Smoke.

Three figures lean against the far railing, cigarettes glowing between their fingers. Males. Large. Powerful in the way predators are powerful, all coiled muscle and easy confidence.

They turn slowly as the door clangs shut behind me. Three devastatingly beautiful faces. Three sets of eyes that catch the light like it fantasy, too bright, too intense. The air around them feels heavy, electric, like the moment before lightning strikes.

The one in the middle, dark hair, sharp jaw, eyes like winter storms, takes a long drag and smiles. "Lost, little wolf?"

My mouth moves before my brain catches up. "You're the Alpha Heirs."

The smile widens, Dangerous, Guilty. We stare at each other across the rooftop. The wind whips my hair back. Something in the air shifts, tightens, pulls.

Then it hits me, a wall of scent so strong my knees nearly buckle. Pine and smoke and something wild, something that reaches inside my chest and wraps around my lungs. My abdomen clenches, heat coiling low and insistent.

No. No, this isn't..

All three of them go rigid. Cigarettes fall from fingers. Their eyes start to glow, actual light bleeding through their irises, turning them inhuman. My heart stops. Starts. Hammers so hard I think it might break through my ribs.

The dark-haired one steps forward, nostrils flaring, pupils blown wide. When he speaks, his voice is barely human, rough and resonant and haunting.

"Mate."

Amaya POV

I ran before I could even think of anything.My feet slam against hallway floors, not caring who sees me, not caring about the stares or the whispers that follow. My chest is tight, too tight, like someone's wrapped iron bands around my ribs and they're squeezing tighter with every breath.

Mate.

That word. That single word echoing in my skull in a voice that wasn't quite human.

I didn't survive six months of hell just to be claimed by three alphas who think I belong to them because of some biological accident. I'm not anyone's mate. I'm not anyone's anything I'm just me...

I burst through a door, my assigned room, the one Principal Thorne showed me this morning when I woke up. I slam it shut, twist the lock, and immediately start pulling open drawers. There's not much, a few uniforms, basic toiletries, nothing that's actually mine because I don't have anything anymore.

My hands are shaking so badly I can barely grip the bag I find in the closet. I shove clothes inside, not folding, not caring. Just need to move. Getting out of here is the next big thing.

Heat. It slams into my abdomen like a fist, sudden and vicious. I double over, gasping, the bag falling from my fingers.

No. Not now. Not yet. It's too soon.

But I know this feeling. The facility made sure I knew it intimately, the artificial heats they triggered with their injections, over and over, studying how my body responded, how far they could push before I broke.

This is worse. This is real.

My skin is on fire, crazy and intense. Every nerve ends screaming. The room spins and I stumble to the desk, yanking open the drawer where I hid the suppressant I stole from the facility's medical wing during my escape. Three syringes left. My hands shake as I grab one.

Tears blur my vision. I can barely see the needle as I pull off the cap with my teeth, can barely find the vein in my arm. The first jab misses. The second..

The needle slides in. I press the plunger, sobbing as the cold liquid burns through my bloodstream.

"Please work," I whisper, pressing my forehead against the desk. "If you don't,I'm totally in a big and crazy mess."

For a moment, the heat reduces. Just a moment. Then it roars back twice as strong.

I screamed, biting down on my arm to muffle the sound. My body is betraying me again, just like it did on that table, and I can't, I can't do this again.. The door explodes inward. Wood splinters. The lock tears free. Three bodies fill the doorway, massive, powerful, eyes glowing that inhuman gold.

Alvaro in the center, the dark-haired one from the roof. Javier to his left, blonde and brutal-looking. Luciano on the right, black hair, silver eyes that are currently fixed on me like I'm prey.

"Get out," I rasp, backing against the wall. "Get out,I said get out.."

Alvaro nostrils flare. His eyes lock on the syringe still dangling from my arm. His face twists, rage and something else, something that looks almost like pain.

"What did you inject?" His voice is rough, barely controlled.

"Suppressant." I rip the needle out, throw it at him. It bounces off his chest. "To stop this. To stop you."

Javier moves faster than I can track, suddenly right in front of me, gripping my chin and tilting my head back. His touch burns. Everything burns.

"You're hurting yourself," he growls. "We can smell the chemicals in your blood. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I don't want to be claimed!" I shove at his chest but he doesn't budge. "I don't want this bond. I don't want any of you. Just, reject me. Please. Say you reject me and let me go in peace,I promise I won't fight you all."

"No." Alvaro voice cuts through the room like a blade.

"Mates are sacred," Luciano adds, his voice quieter but no less intense. "We don't reject our mate."

"Then I reject you!" The words tear out of my throat, desperate. "I, Amaya, reject..."

Pain explodes through my chest. Not physical pain, something deeper, something that feels like my soul is being ripped apart. I collapse, and Javier catches me before I hit the floor.

"Stop," he orders, lowering me onto the bed. "You're killing yourself. The bond won't allow rejection. Not this strong. Not this fast."

"I don't care." I'm crying now, full sobs that shake my whole body. "I can't do this. I can't be owned again. I can't.."

The heat surges again, vicious and uncontrollable. My back arches off the bed. A sound rips from my throat, half scream, half something else, something needy that I hate.

All three of them go rigid. The air in the room thickens, charged with tension so heavy I can barely breathe through it.

"Out," Alvaro snaps at the other two. "Both of you, out now."

"Like hell," Javier growls, but there's strain in his voice. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, shaking with the effort of not moving.

I can't think. Unable focus. My body is moving on instinct, reaching for the closest one, Luciano . My fingers dig into his shirt, clawing at fabric and the muscle beneath. He catches my wrists, holding them away from him, but I'm already leaning in, pressing my face against his throat, breathing in his scent. Pine and night air and something dark that makes my wolf howl inside my skull.

"Amaya." My name on his lips sounds like a prayer and a warning. "You need to stop."

But I can't. I'm kissing his throat, his jaw, tasting salt and smoke. He makes a sound low in his chest, half growl, half groan.

Alvaro is there suddenly, pulling me back, pinning my arms against my sides. "You're not in control. This isn't you."

"I know!" I thrash against his hold but he's too strong. They're all too strong. "I know this isn't me. The facility, they did something to me. Broke something. I can't control the heats, they come too fast, too strong.."

I break off, gasping, as another wave hits. My entire body trembles violently. I'm burning from the inside out and the only thing that would help, the only thing my instincts are screaming for, is them.

"Please," I beg, but I don't know what I'm begging for anymore. For them to leave? For them to stay? For this to stop? For it to never stop?

Javier kneels in front of me, his hand cupping my face with surprising gentleness. "Tell us what they did to you."

"Experiments." The word is barely a whisper. "Heat experiments. Breeding program. They wanted perfect hybrids. Needed, females who could.."

I can't finish. Can't say it out loud. But they understand. I can see it in their faces, the fury, the horror, the murderous rage that makes their eyes glow brighter.

"We're going to kill them," Alvaro says quietly. "Every single one of them."

"I don't want revenge." My voice cracks. "I just want this to stop. I don't want to want you. I don't want this bond. I don't want.."

But my body betrays me again, pressing back against Alvaro chest, seeking his warmth, his scent, his touch. My wolf is clawing at the inside of my skull, snarling one word over and over.

Claim them. Claim them. Claim them.

"I don't want this," I sob, even as my body trembles violently, even as heat coils tighter in my abdomen, even as every instinct I have screams the opposite. "Please..."

But deep inside, underneath the fear and the trauma and the desperation, my wolf whispers with absolute certainty:

Claim them.