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THE CAPTURE
    (The Breeding Prophecy 2)
    By Alexx Andria
    Copyright 2012 by Alexx Andria
     
    Smashwords Edition
     
    *This naughty bit of a story is intended for
mature readers only. If you’re not 18 years or older, find
something else to read.
    The following short story of approx. 4,000
words is an original work of fiction.
     
     
    Cassandra struggled to be free, but the grip
holding her felt like iron bands clamped around her thighs. “Let me
go!” she screamed like a banshee, rising up to claw at his face
with her nails but her efforts were met with steely silence as they
ran through the night.
    The cold air burned her face and she began to
shiver.
    They entered what looked like a cave and were
immediately enveloped in inky darkness but her captor navigated the
tricky twists and turns as if they were traveling a lighted
path.
    They emerged in a large cavern where he
finally set her down with little finesse or grace. She landed on
her rear with a squeak of pain but he paid her little heed as he
was too busy building a small fire to warm the ice-box interior. In
truth, she was too cold to flee even if, by chance she could find
her way out. Her legs felt like frozen stalks of flesh that might
shatter if she tried to run.
    Within minutes a blaze filled the cavern with
dancing light and she reluctantly sought the heat when he gestured
impatiently. It was then she looked at the man who had captured her
as she warmed her hands. He was big, much like Jandin and Koris,
but there was something gracefully dangerous about the lines in his
body that suggested sinewy strength and raw masculinity. His blond
hair was cropped short to his skull with military precision,
possibly to soften the fact that he was almost too pretty for a
man. In short, he took her breath away.
    She also knew he was different from the
others. As a test, she lifted her nose and surreptitiously sniffed
the air.
    “I am not a werewolf,” he said, saving her
the trouble. She gasped and recoiled, not quite sure what to think,
only fairly certain she wasn’t safe with him.
    “What are you?” she asked. “You don’t
smell…human.”
    His mouth thinned in a parody of a smile.
“That’s because I am not human.” His smile faded. “And neither are
you. Otherwise, two rival werewolf clans wouldn’t be tearing each
other to shreds to breed with you.”
    Her cheeks flamed at the crass way he framed
his statement but she lifted her chin and met his stare with open
challenge. “I didn’t ask for any of this. Yesterday my biggest
worry was my mid-term final. Today, I’m some kind of beast with a
magical womb! And for the record, I took a vow of purity!”
    “How’d that work out for you?” he asked
sardonically.
    She glared. “Great. Up until I went into my
Breeding Time as Jandin called it. So, if you’re not a werewolf,
what are you? And why do you care what happens between two rival
clans?”
    “Because there’s a reason there’s not been a
Breeding female in sixty years,” he said.
    “Which is?” He met her stare with a hard one
of his own. She shivered at what she read in his eyes. “You killed
them?”
    “Some,” he allowed without apology. “Others,
we simply let nature take its course.”
    “By capturing them and letting them phase
out,” she guessed with a frown. “From what Jandin said, it sounds
like a horrible death.”
    “So I’ve heard,” he said with a shrug.
    “You’re a monster,” Cassandra said with
growing horror at what he evidently planned for her. She didn’t
want to be consumed by her own heat to die writhing in pain at his
asshole’s feet. “They’ll find me,” she said, hoping it was true.
“They can smell my scent. There is nowhere that you could hide me
that they wouldn’t sniff me out.”
    “Your confidence is amusing. It’s true the
Lycan sense of smell is enhanced, but there is one tried and true
method to cloak your natural scent from their inquisitive
noses.”
    “Which is?” she asked