Chapter 4 My Father Deceived Me
Rachel's POV
Dad's visit yesterday had left me feeling lighter somehow, like maybe there was a chance for things to get better.
Sure, working as a maid wasn't exactly the future I'd dreamed of, but if it meant helping our pack and eventually going home...
I could do this! I could be strong!
The morning felt different too. Instead of lying in bed staring at the ceiling, I actually got up and showered. I even tried to braid my hair the way Mom used to do it, though my fingers fumbled with the copper strands.
Maybe I should explore a little, get familiar with where I'd be working. Dad said I'd be helping with domestic affairs, so I should probably know my way around.
I slipped out of my room and into the hallway. The medical wing was quieter today, most of the staff seemed to be elsewhere. I wandered down corridors lined with expensive artwork, past rooms that looked more like luxury hotel suites than hospital rooms.
This place was massive. How many "maids" did Alpha Blackwood need exactly?
As I turned a corner, voices drifted from an open office door. I slowed my steps, not wanting to interrupt anyone working. But something about the conversation made me pause.
"—the hormone treatments are working well," a woman said. "Her fertility markers are improving rapidly."
"Good," came a deeper male voice. "The Alpha wants her ready as soon as possible. How long until we can induce heat?"
My blood went cold. Heat? Fertility markers? I pressed myself against the wall, straining to hear more.
"Another week, maybe two," a woman replied. "She's still recovering from malnutrition, but her body is responding to the supplements."
That man said, "Once she's in heat, conception should be quick. After the pup is weaned, we dispose of her. Alpha's orders."
The world tilted sideways.
Breeder. That's what I was. Not a maid. Not a employee. A breeder!
My knees buckled, and I had to grab the wall to keep from falling. The conversation continued, but the words seemed to come from underwater.
"Has anyone explained the process to her?"
"Her father did it."
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat. Dad knew. Of course he knew.
The gentle voice, the promises, the tears—all lies. He'd sold me to be bred like livestock and then killed when I was no longer useful.
I stumbled backward, my hands shaking so violently I could barely control them.
How could I have believed him? How could I have been so naive?
I ran. Down the hallway, past startled staff members, my bare feet slapping against the marble floors. I needed out. I needed air. I needed to run.
Behind me, I heard shouts, but I didn't stop. I burst through doors, down staircases, following any path that led away from that horrible conversation.
I found myself in what looked like a service area—industrial kitchens and storage rooms. There had to be a way out. Staff entrances, delivery doors, something.
My chest was so tight I could barely breathe. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision, but I kept moving. I tried door after door, but they were all locked or led to dead ends.
"There!" a voice shouted behind me. "She's in the kitchen area!"
Footsteps pounded closer. I grabbed a large knife from a prep station, holding it out with trembling hands as three guards rounded the corner.
"Stay back!" I screamed, my voice breaking. "I won't let you do this to me! Get off!"
The lead guard, a massive man with kind eyes, held up his hands. "Easy now, miss. Nobody's going to hurt you."
"Liar!" I sobbed. "You're all liars! My father, the doctors, everyone!"
"Rachel!"
I spun around to see Tyler rushing into the kitchen, his face flushed with worry. Behind him came Dr. Carter, both of them pushing past the guards.
"I'm here to help you. Put the knife down," Tyler said gently. "You're safe."
"Safe?" I laughed bitterly. "I'm a breeder! You're going to kill me!"
Dr. Carter moved to my other side. "Rachel, I know this is devastating, but you need to put the knife down before you hurt yourself."
I screamed, "That would be better than whatever you have planned!"
"Don't say that," Tyler said firmly, stepping closer to me. "There has to be another way."
"Stay back! There is no other way!" I could barely see through my tears. "I'm trapped! My own father sold me to be someone's breeding stock!"
Without thinking, I pressed the sharp blade against my throat, feeling the cold metal bite into my skin.
"Rachel, no!" Tyler said quickly, but stopped moving forward.
"Put that down!" Dr. Carter shouted.
Tyler said, "Don't do this to yourself. I know your story, and I feel bad for you. You can't just die like this - it's not worth it."
"Then what am I supposed to do?" I sobbed, my voice breaking into a raw scream. "What am I supposed to do? You tell me! I'm going to die anyway! Whether it's now or after I give him what he wants—I'm still going to die!"
The blade trembled against my skin, and I could feel a warm trickle of blood beginning to form.
"Rachel, listen to me," Dr. Carter said urgently. "There are always options."
"What options?" I screamed. "After the baby is born, you will dispose of the breeder! That's me!"
Dr. Carter held up her hands in a calming gesture. "Rachel, just... wait. Wait here for me, okay? Don't do anything. Just give me a few minutes."
"A few minutes for what?" I demanded, my voice hoarse.
"Just trust me. Please." She looked directly into my eyes. "Can you give me a few minutes? Don't move that knife. Just... wait."
Something in her tone made me hesitate. What could possibly change in a few minutes?
"I need to speak with the Alpha," Dr. Carter said, glancing at Tyler. "Stay with her. Keep her talking."
She hurried out of the kitchen, leaving me with Tyler and the guards, who were all watching me like I was a bomb about to explode.
"Rachel," Tyler said softly, "can you please just... don't move the knife. Talk to me instead."
"About what?" I asked, my voice cracking.
"About anything. Tell me about your mom."
The mention of my mother brought tears to my eyes. She was so good, so kind - why was her life cut short?
"She used to sing while she braided it, and her voice was like an angel's," I whispered, the memory making my chest ache.
Tyler said, "I bet you have a beautiful voice too. And I'm sure your mother would never want you to give up on yourself."
The knife felt so heavy against my throat. My arm was starting to shake from holding it in position.
My mom definitely wouldn't want me to hurt myself.
Before I could answer my own question, Dr. Carter returned, slightly out of breath but looking... hopeful?
"Rachel," Dr. Carter said carefully, "I spoke with the Alpha. He's agreed to give you one month to recover your health. Fully recover—physically and mentally."
I blinked, not sure I'd heard correctly. "What?"
"One month," Dr. Carter repeated gently. "To get your strength back. To... process everything. To prepare yourself."
One month. The words echoed in my hollow chest. One month was... hope? Time to breathe. Time to think. Time to plan. Time to maybe—just maybe—claw my way out of this living nightmare.
"And after the month?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Dr. Carter's expression crumpled with pain, as if the words physically hurt her to say. "After the month... the arrangement proceeds as planned."
The knife felt heavier in my trembling hand. But one month... it could give me a chance to escape again.
Tyler's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, soft but urgent. "Will you put the knife down?"
"Okay," I whispered.
My entire body shook as I slowly, painfully, lowered the knife from my throat.
It clattered to the floor, the sound echoing in the suffocating room.