The Stolen by Alexx Andria

THE STOLEN
    (The Breeding Prophecy 3)
    By Alexx Andria
    Copyright 2012 by Alexx Andria
     
    *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. 5,300
words is an original work of fiction.
     
     
    Cassandra landed on the thin carpet floor
with an ass-bruising thud that felt as if it’d jarred her teeth
from her jaw as the rangy bunch of men circled around her, their
noses twitching with barely restrained excitement, and she
swallowed a thick lump of fear. They looked hungry, their canines
too long in their mouths, as if they’d only partially returned to
their human form after their last transformation and their snouts
were elongated. Cassandra tried not to recoil in fear but her skin
crawled at the lecherous gleam in their amber eyes. It was no
secret what they wanted to do to her. Her mind was spinning with
everything that had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours.
And to think, last week she’d been worried about how to pay her
credit card bill. Now, that seemed a ridiculous worry when faced
with being some supreme breeder who rival werewolf clans were
willing to kill to possess.
    “She doesn’t smell like a Breeder,” one
whined, eyeing her with distaste. “All I smell is that blood
sucker’s seed on her. It stinks and makes me what to puke. Are you
sure she’s the One?”
    “Yes,” the scarred one said with a dark scowl
as he motioned to a cluster of women. “Arja, take her and wash that
filth from her body. I want her to be clean when I fuck her.”
    Cassandra shrieked as her arm was nearly
ripped from its socket as she was jerked to her feet by one of the
men and thrust at the woman. Cassandra stumbled as she landed in
the woman’s arms.
    “Come Breeder,” Arja said, tugging at her
arm. “I will show you where to bathe.”
    Cassandra followed Arja, a petite woman with
a subtle limp in her gait, down a dim, dingy hallway that stank of
mildew and things best left unnamed. Cassandra gave the air around
her a delicate sniff and shuddered as the faint scent of death
teased her nostrils with its cloying sweetness. “Who are you?” she
asked. “What clan are you?”
    Arja cast a reproachful glance Cassandra’s
way before pushing open a door that protested loudly on old hinges.
“The bath isn’t much to look at but there’s warm running water,
which is more than we’ve had in the past. Get undressed and I’ll
scrub you down.”
    “I can wash myself, thank you,” Cassandra
said stiffly, glancing around the dirty, scum-crusted tub with open
horror. It was filthy. She doubted she’d manage to become any
cleaner in that thing. She expected Arja to close the door behind
her but she stubbornly remained, ignoring Cassandra’s declaration.
Cassandra glared but Arja didn’t budge. “Come on…this is
ridiculous. I can wash myself.”
    “You smell of vampire lust. If you don’t get
every drop of his seed from your skin, Ulster will beat me. I’m
sorry but I’m not willing to take the chance.” Arja bent down and
pulled a mean looking scrub brush from under the cabinet. She eyed
it with grim satisfaction as she pushed her lanky brown hair from
her eyes. “This ought to do the trick.”
    Cassandra surely must’ve paled because she
felt the blood leave her cheeks at the sight of that horrid thing.
“I-I don’t think that’s sanitary…I could get sick…and then where
would the prophecy be?”
    “Human sickness does not touch us. It’s one
of the reasons our life expectancy is much longer than humans. You
should know that. Now, strip before Ulster sends one of his men to
do it for you. Trust me,” she warned in a low tone “you don’t want
that to happen. They’re all yipping at the chance to touch the
prophesied one. You don’t look like you can handle what they’d do
to you.”
    Cassandra stripped with shaking fingers,
taking Arja’s warning at face value. There was