by Addison Cain
Branded Captive
Wren’s Song Book 1
By
Addison Cain
©2018 Addison Cain
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover art by ErisAdderly.com
*This book is intended for adults only and contains scenes featuring total power exchange which may make some readers uncomfortable.
To the dirty girls at Tentacle Press, M.D. Pentacles, Ivana B. Kinkee, and Aslyn S. Slither, for challenging me to write something filthy just for them.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
FREE BOOK!!! BORN TO BE BOUND: ALPHA’S CLAIM BOOK 1
Addison Cain
Chapter 1
“Accept my seed, Omega.”
The breath wafting over her cheek was rancid, but it was the last thing Wren might take stock of when that thing was cracking her pelvis in half. She had done as she’d been instructed. Remained docile when the man had yanked her legs embarrassingly wide over his thighs. She had even ignored the thick thatch of coarse salt and pepper hair on his chest scratching her back when he hoisted her up.
He’d growled as her mother told her he would, and torn through her barrier with one impatient yank of her hips. Unable to scream, Wren had only arched her spine, head thrown back on his shoulder. The Alpha, either oblivious or uncaring for her comfort, grasped her hips, bobbing her up and down his veined cock three times. With the fourth rude shunt, he’d clawed at her softer places and driven her down until her ass cheeks slapped against his lap. Immediately something ballooned inside her aching guts. It pressed her bladder to the point Wren was certain she’d dribbled more than a little piss on her buyer, continuing to expand until squished bowels, organs, and jangled nerves all screamed for relief.
“Damn you, Omega. Take my seed!”
Take what where? She didn’t understand what she was supposed to do now.
At her back, the stranger panted, shifting beneath her as if he too were extremely uncomfortable. When she failed to perform, his irritation quickly translated into anger. The stink invaded Wren’s nostrils, it made her skin buzz.
Angry Alphas killed.
Angry Alphas must always be appeased.
Staring forward across the dimly lit, yet finely appointed space, Wren inhaled and exhaled on the count of three. There was nothing to be done about the stinging stretch where her legs were hooked over the man’s spread thighs. He had not offered to take her to a bed or even asked to see her build a nest. No, the couch in his fine house’s receiving room had suited his purpose well enough.
Examine and test the stock.
Fuck the virgin with her father on the other side of the cracked door.
The man who’d brought her to sell listening to this. To the Alpha’s strained breaths, to his grunts and wheezing.
Her father was listening to her failure.
Wren forced herself to look down. She had not seen the Alpha’s cock before he’d shunted it unexpectedly into her, or even had a good look at the male. Her eyes had been downcast when they arrived, lest her father strike her for insolence. She had disrobed for inspection. She had moved as commanded and not resisted when the Alpha yanked her to the nearest seat.
And her father had exited the room to listen so he might claim full payment for what transpired.
Payment for... this. Wren stared where only the root of an Alpha cock was visible stretching her labia beyond imagining. There was a little blood, far less than she’d anticipated considering the sting. The red spread with their fluids, matting the hair that peppered his swollen ball sack.
The knot in her belly gave an angry pulse, expanding again in a bid to ruin her completely. Gnashing his teeth, the Alpha almost whined against her neck, his balls thundering in twitching pulses. They too expanded, the skin under all that coarse hair growing shiny and white from the stretch.
“Fucking Omega…” A meaty hand left her hip, landing on her belly as if that might force her even further down his meat. But there was nowhere else to go. She was tied to him by that pulsating knot spreading agony in her guts. From the way he fought to speak, how his breath hitched in a whine with each breath, the Alpha was in as much pain as she. “You have one purpose. Milk my fucking cock!”
If that knot kept banging against her pubic bone, she was going to be sick all over his rug. Stalled, unsure what it was he wanted from her, Wren thought the wisest course was to remain still and wait.
It was the wrong choice.
“Your freak daughter is failing to comply!” The snarled shout was directed to the cracked door.
The meek response was never the tone Wren’s father took with her. “Have you… umm… stimulated her, sir?”
Wren’s new owner turned his head, yelling so sharply the girl flinched. “Of course I have! She belligerently refuses to bring me to orgasm. My fucking knot is full. Gah—” Slick with sweat, the Alpha squeezed her tighter, caught in a waving cramp of his own. “I’ll have your goddamn head for this, Carson!”
“Wren, honey.” Through the cracked door, her father sing-songed, “Relax and take his seed. Show this illustrious Alpha you wish to serve as his mate.”
I wanted to sign that I didn’t understand, to reach out for the man who’d brought me here to sell me. But he could not see me.
My potential mate roared, “SEND IN HELENA!”
Another door in the chilly room opened, a woman in a vivid robe rushing forward. “How can I serve you, my Alpha?”
“Bend over the desk and wait for me!”
Wren watched the woman quickly strip, viewing another naked female body for the first time in her life. With no preamble, the pretty brunette bent at the waist, the globes of her ass presented, her cheek to the wood.
Beta female parts were on display.
Cruel fingers reached for Wren’s stretched labia, the Alpha yanking at the sensitive flesh as he grunted and threw her forward with his weight. His ballooning testicles doubled in size, the man groaning with the worst sort of agony.
His pain was nothing to hers. The knot that was meant to tie them together in life was deformed by his tricks until it could be pulled free of her body. Wren was dumped on the floor, hand pressed between her trembling legs as she wailed.
From the corner of her eye, she watched the Alpha scythe his cock into the waiting female, wrecking her with the madness of his need to release. Unlike Wren, the Beta gave him immediate relief, the Alpha’s cry earsplitting.
Bowed over, curled in on herself, Wren shut her eyes to it all.
When her father was called forward, even then she refused to rise to meet his gaze. Naked and shamed on the floor of a stranger’s house, she sniffed
, wishing she couldn’t hear the terrible things that were said about her.
“Was she not trained?”
“My wife took great pains to explain what would be expected, sir. You have my humblest apologies that she failed, but if you are not going to take her as your new mate, you still owe for the tearing of her hymen. She will be harder to sell unintact.”
Of course her father would try to weasel credits from this man…
The Alpha gave an incredulous laugh. “Your mute albino freak might be pretty to look at, but she is the worst fuck imaginable. If you think I’d expose that cunt to another Alpha in this city, you’re wrong.”
“You owe me one-thousand credits for her virginity!” Her father never once came to her defense, never offered her comfort, he only tried to squeeze what he could from a far richer man. “The contract was clear. No matter the outcome of the first mating, a fee will be paid!”
The sound of ice hitting the side of crystal, the pour of liquor. Far calmer, the Alpha took a long sip. “The contract,” a smile in his voice, the Alpha purred, “is null and void if the merchandise is defective. You get nothing, Carson. She will be tagged and dumped in the Warrens and you will leave here grateful to be breathing.”
No! Ignoring sore muscles and the screaming pain between her legs, Wren scampered to her father and wrapped her arm around his leg. Signing frantically, she begged him for mercy.
He looked down at his pale, violet-eyed child, deadpan as he said, “I should have had you euthanized at birth.”
Chapter 2
The bones in her back cracked splendidly when Wren straightened from a low crouch. The city might be enjoying the heat of summer, but the Warrens were always ice-cold—the kind of chill that locked up muscle and joints. And with that chill came disease-riddled damp.
Medicine was damn expensive.
Even now there was a rattle in her lungs. But it wasn’t the killing kind. A good day or two in a dry room and she’d cough up the phlegm and be right as rain.
Would it be nice to peel out of mud soaked boots and let her toes de-prune? Yes, but that would have to wait. She had sloshed down to the pump-yard for a reason more important than clean air and dry socks.
Coughing into her fist, she worked out as much of the lung rot as she could. Once she dropped down into the pipes, she couldn’t risk so much as a wheeze. Not until she found the one called Caspian.
It was a hard enough life in the Warrens without men like Caspian intruding to make it all the worse. His syndicate offered honest work. His lackeys tempted those new to this hellhole, those who had yet to learn better, with food and a dry bed, roping them into slavery.
Wren spit on the name.
She’d spit on the man if it wouldn’t mean her neck. And where would that leave her boys?
Dead.
Villains, powermongers, and innocent fools were cast into the muck every day. To people like Wren, it was nothing… changed nothing. Honestly, at this point, it was hard enough keeping little bellies full without having to give a damn about the men who came and went.
City scourges and cracking walls. Sinking buildings and floating bodies.
Nothing and no one was going to change the Warrens.
But that was beside the point.
The land sunk deeper every day; staying ahead of the bog was all that mattered.
And love.
Family.
Family mattered most.
Wren would drag hers away from Caspian’s Syndicate kicking and screaming if she had to. She knew the scoundrels well enough. Alec and Mikael had simply gone down the pipes for the laughs…
Gone down and never came back.
Both were crafty little monkeys, capable and knowledgeable of the channels. Both had the skill to slip away unseen if they’d been spying or dumb enough to steal from Alphas. But they had not returned.
Street kids knew better than to fall for the rumors of Caspian’s power. The boys had lived their whole lives in a constant state of circumspection, and did not need food or shelter beyond what their family, what Wren, might provide. Unless one of the shifts had sunk the city’s monumental skyscrapers deeper into the Warrens’ muck and drowned them while they played.
To even think it…
No. They would be here with Caspian.
They had to be.
And Wren needed to know if they were prisoners, or simply wanted to play with the big boys for kicks.
And so she waded through the mud, aware that a single tremor might change the drift of rotting refuse and suck her down like it did so many every day. She went into the dark, flipping up her goggles once the sun was doused by metal tubes.
The sun had never been her friend.
Perhaps that’s why she had thrived in the Warrens since her father had dropped her here five years ago. All the way down here, the buildings were too tall to offer more than the hazy afterthought of light.
Every day the city sunk a little deeper. And every day up top, they built higher and higher to escape the inevitable mud.
The very mud that was fighting to suck her boot from her foot.
In the distance, Wren could hear the sound of rushing water, a sign she was closer to the pipeworks than she’d thought.
She wanted to pretend it was nothing, that she wasn’t afraid. But she was. Alphas put things inside a body and tore them out. Alphas were the reason her right cheek had been tattooed with the symbol for defective merchandise.
Wren had never met a single one without a black heart. And those condemned to the Warrens were the worst of the worst.
A pinpoint of light showed the outlet of her stagnant pipe, the roar of rushing water warning her that trouble lay ahead. Creeping, mud up to her chin, Wren counted to three, over and over, and refused to think of anything beyond the fact her boys needed her.
A room so bright with electric light that she had to lower her goggles to see anything at all. Astounded, she took it all in, failing completely to accept what she saw. Hundreds of men moved through ancient drainage systems. A rough looking bunch; men she would not like to see following her down a dark alley.
Men marked with the dark print of a hand over their mouths—Caspian’s mark—held forbidden tech. Weapons. Circling the workers, less guard and more taskmaster.
What the hell had her boys gotten themselves into?
And yes, they were here. As were many other children Wren had somehow never seen before.
Frowning, she leaned back on her heels, mud squishing in sodden socks. Many of the little ones looked scared. Alec and Mikael were among them, dirty… well, they were always dirty… but drenched through. Mikael was clearly sick… hacking where he lay sweating despite the cold.
But what left her jaw gaping was why they were wet.
Fresh water poured from the walls, raining down upon the workers as if it were cheap and easy to find.
Clean, clear water.
She was so screwed.
Sucking in a deep, mist-drenched breath, Wren scanned the aqueducts and saw the kingpin himself. Like all Alphas, his size was intimidating. Caspian: ugly, brawny, vicious…
She’d once heard a rumor that he wore a coat made from the skins of his enemies. At the time, Wren had laughed. Seeing the beast now, she wasn’t so much as cracking a smirk.
It was flesh colored, if flesh had been tanned and stretched. A patchwork of various shades sewn with skill and absolutely disgusting.
Chapter 3
“We have an intruder wading through Pitchfork Canal 7, sir.”
Caspian refused to look away from his data relay. There were more important items on the agenda than another starving asshole stumbling down to see things not meant for their eyes. “Kill them.”
Kieran radioed the order. “That is an affirmative. Shoot the—” The relay cut him off. “What?”
Lowering his arm, Caspian looked to his subordinate, annoyed with the interruption, and cocked a brow.
“It seems, sir, it’s a child.” More
radio babble chimed at Kieran’s ear. “He’s approaching the boys on the third floor now.”
They turned in unison to look over the rim of the pipeworks, and found the intruder marching boldly toward the child laborers. A rather exuberant gutter rat jumped up upon seeing him, waving both thin arms in the air. More boys took notice, many leaving their posts to rush over and see who’d come to play.
Their enthusiasm was short-lived, the mud soaked stranger wrenching one of the children by the ear until most of them scattered. It would have been funny had that same man not reached down for another boy, hoisting him over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
This one who thought to steal his workers, was blatantly shuffling off with two.
“Have him brought here.” Caspian leveled the command at Kieran just in time to witness the figure approaching of his own accord.
Under the shadow of a hood, the shine of wide eyes betrayed the stranger’s anxiety. The interloper shifted the weight of the coughing child on his shoulder, the drape of his clothing catching on… well, well, breasts.
It was a woman covered in all that mud, not a young boy at all.
And she, in all her infinite stupidity, was looking him right in the eye.
Caspian smirked, noting he was not the only male to take notice of what had crept into their midst. There were shifts in posture in the men around him, murmurs…
Raw meat. A mud-caked Warrens rat who probably smelled of rotting towels and tasted of sewage. Not worth throwing to his men.
This weakling she-rat was struggling up the stairs, trying to manage the weight of the limp child—dragging along a second, less obedient boy in her wake.
And what did she see when she looked at him? Caspian’s smirk grew meaner. She saw the male who was going to end her for daring to touch his property.
And still she marched, huffing for air by the time she reached his platform.
Just as he thought. A Warrens rat dressed in her finest rags, dripping with refuse and stinking of the shit she’d waded through. A hood covered whatever tangled—likely lice infested—mop she might have, but it didn’t cover the mark on her cheek. Defective.