Sold to Lycan King for Surrogacy
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He is a 33-year-old Lycan King, I’m a high school graduate. It’s rumored that he was cursed by his first love, a dark witch who betrayed him, rendering him unable to feel the presence of a mate and sire offspring. To break the curse, he needed to find an 18-year-old virgin in the human world to serve as a surrogate. That's when I was chosen, and my stepmother sold me to him, signing the contract. During our first meeting, he coldly said, "Human, after giving birth to my child, you must return to the human world immediately." The reason I was chosen is that I resemble his first love. Could it be that I'm just a substitute for him? When I finally left the werewolf clan, he unexpectedly came looking for me with twin wolf cubs. "Methis, please, be the mother of my pups."
Methis Delis POV
Life is full of twist and turns, they say. Well, they really were not joking on that one. It seems as if we all always have a false perception of life. We always make these elaborate plans when we are little which gives us the notion that we are in total control of our lives. But that could not be more further from the truth. There is only so little that we can do.
I am Methis Delis and my life has turned from that usual delusion to a more terrifying delusion which believe it or not, is now my reality. I am 18 years old, I am a virgin, and I've always dreamed of going to college to acquire a good degree and get myself a good job. I just graduated from high school and I've never felt my dreams reach so near that I could almost smell it.
My parents support me and that's great. My mother died of illness seven years ago and sometimes it feels like yesterday. The memories of her limp body as she slowly drifted away into sleep still haunts me. She had slept that night and did not wake up the next morning, neither did she wake up later in the afternoon, nor in the evening. But for seven years now she still sleeps, except not in a bed but in a casket.
My father was heartbroken as well but he is slowly getting better and I love to see that. He met a woman who worked as a bartender. Quite a fashionable girl, that one. They fell in love and not long after, they both got married. Having to introduce me to my stepmother was an awkward moment. It was the time she had discovered that my dad had a daughter. That evening, they had both come back home and I was supposed to introduce myself. We shook hands and she introduced herself as my mother. For all I knew, she was my stepmother and it was different. And truth be told, it really was different. My stepmother was abusive, she would do all sort of things to me and pretended to love me when my father was around. I did not want to spoil the relationship my father had with her so I kept her abuses a secret.
Often times I felt lonely, useless even. Like I wasn't worth anything and I was less than ordinary. But those feelings never lasted as I cling desperately to the memories of my mother. While she was alive, she would tell me that on the day of my birth, a red moon appeared in the sky signifying that I was beyond special. It made me feel better thinking of it.
Lately, my father has been there for me too more frequently now. That's because he too had quit his job and was now working from home though this took a big downgrade from his usual earnings. But he had to. He had earlier gotten into an accident that left him unable to move. The work he did from home was the best he could do to support the family which depended only on his income. This is the reason I try to take part-time jobs any time I could.
My school life was surprisingly normal without any unnecessary complications or actions.
So that was my life. Unfortunate in some sense but otherwise normal as any other person's life could be. But everything all took a drastic change one afternoon I came back to school to hear the most absurd news in my entire life.
That day in school I had secured a date with Rodney Carrington, who invited me to watch a football match. Not really sure how it was supposed to be a date since he was going to be playing in the game but nonetheless, I got invited. Rodney was my classmate and the brother to my best friend and privately, he's the heir to a top-tier city conglomerate. He was popular among the girls and could often be spotted with any of them at any time. I wasn't sure if he dated any of them though rumours spread about him dating many of them - rumours fuelled by the girls themselves because somehow dating Rodney was supposed to make you look cool.
I did not want to be seen as one of the other random girls or behave like one so when he did the honour of inviting me, I agreed with what I thought was an impression of a nonchalant teenager. He probably saw right through it but who cares?
On getting home from school, I was pulled aside by my stepmother. Not that that was something out of the ordinary but it was what she told me that left my mouth hanging open. She said to me without even flinching that she had sold me out. I laughed. It was a joke. It had to be a joke. No one sells another person. Not in this generation.
However, the moment I saw the contract, I knew that things were about to get serious. My dad had been wheeled out that day for a checkup so we were the only ones at home. All hell broke loose and I expressed my resentment that instant.
It was the loudest I've ever heard my house become. Louder than any music I've heard, any laughter, or any cry and it was just the two of us. We nearly fought and with tears in my eyes, I tried to reach for the contract to rip it apart. After all I have been through in the hands of this woman, she sells me out like I am a worthless piece of metal - an unwanted child I was. Not a million hammers could smash my heart the way that contract smashed it.
She told me that she did it for the good of the family and I felt more infuriated. It was when she told me that it was not a permanent sale that I became a little willing to listen to what she has said. I realized that what was done was done and with both our knives dropped in our various rooms, we met in the parlor to discuss. It was the most hostile discussion of my life.
Unfortunately, I lost it again when I realized that it was not a housekeeper or servant contract as I had expected it to be, but one that required me to perform wife duties which of course, included losing my flowers. The shame, I thought. We resumed screaming when I saw that I was also expected to bear a child.
In the end, that was what had to be done. The contract has been signed, the money had been paid, and I had to leave. I decided that I do it before the return of my father as it would be impossible to lie to him without breaking into tears. My stepmother assured me that she would tell him that I had gone on a field trip at school. I hated how she felt OK lying to him but it was a better alternative than exposing it all.
Before my departure, I added my own clause to the contract. I explicitly stated that the money recovered from my sale was to be used to treat my father for his accident-caused paralysis. My stepmother agreed. She just had to.
Even though I felt like I had gotten past that stage, I could not help but think of my mother. She would never had done this to me. Never. She had bore me, clothed me, fed me, and taken care of me, bringing me up to the best of her ability despite her illness. Technically she and my dad owned me, but they would never sell me. But here was this woman who was nothing but a mere substitute for my mother and now she felt she had the right to sell me. The thoughts of this broke my already broken heart. Why did my life have to turn out like this. Full of trials and hardship and unfortunate events.
That night, I called Rodney Carrington and told him that I was going to be unable to come to the school football match. He asked why but I did not give any response. I had not thought of any before calling him and I was not ready to think of any now. So I just said "nothing" and hung up. It was the easiest way to deal with it. At least it worked. He did not call back. He must have told his sister because she called asking me if anything was wrong.
At that point, biting my lips was all it took me not to burst into tears. I did not tell her anything. I just hung up after a very inaudible "nothing."
I stood on the balcony of my castle looking into the vast plane. Boring my eyes into the deep horizon, testing to see if I could see right through it.
It was nearing the time.
As the bad time approached, I kept on thinking about her. The Dark Witch, the one who had made my whole life this miserable. It happened very long ago when I was a young 18-year-old wolf who had just risen into the rank of Lycan King. I had met a woman. Fair in her appearance. The most beautiful specimen of a living creature I had ever set my eyes upon and in that instance, I fell in love with her and she with me. But later I realized it was not love; it was an obsession fuelled by black magic.
I had always thought she had my best interest at heart. However, it all came crashing down that day she backstabbed me and sent the world of werewolves into utter chaos. She had started a mutiny and capitalized on it to seize control.
The Dark Witch had murdered my parents and a few of