The child had been so small. So precious. Sakura had wanted so badly to hold her. That beautiful, perfect being with her tiny fingers, tiny toes, and tiny cries. To feel the softness of her new skin and inhale the scent of her new life.

To have just a taste of that joy.

It made her heart ache.

There had once been a time where that future seemed so certain, set in stone. Where she would daydream about it, making her plans and carefully pondering them over, tweaking them here and there, creating an illusion of perfection in her mind.

How wonderful it had been.

How sweet.

How all for not.

Had things only turned out different, or more specifically, stayed the same, she would have probably already been a mother. Carried her child within her. Held them in her arms. Loved them with everything she had.

She thought about the child she never had.

The children that could have been under different circumstances.

Would they have looked like her?

Or have the ebony hair and ocean eyes of their father?

Perhaps a magnificent combination of the two of them?

She would never know because those children were never given the opportunity to exist.

And she had no other option than to let them go as the dreams they were.

Sakura stopped outside of the training grounds and waited for Yuki. He took his time in joining her, almost dawdling from the grounds. She noticed that he came by it naturally, having always had the luxury of time to plan and calculate his next move, never having the need to improvise. He didn’t slow when he made it to her, didn’t acknowledge her existence. Rather he walked past as he made his way down the path in the direction where Sakura and her companions had first entered the village.

He expected her to follow.

So she did.

Quietly, she fell into step beside him, matching his pace, finding it unfamiliar and uncomfortable. She was so accustomed to the way her and Ivy moved together; speeding up and slowing down, zigzagging and spinning, going steady and wriggling about. She knew how to extend her legs quickly in order to keep up with Ren and Zero. How to rush ahead and go at her pace until they caught up. She could fall behind, knowing that they would wait for her.

But the way the man moved next to her was unlike any way she’d moved before. It went his way, and none other. It expected conformity. It demanded compliance. It was set in its ways, and there was no room for variation.

Sakura gently tugged at the bottom of her father’s shirt. She hadn’t had time to tie it that morning, and it hung loosely over her hips. Though her memories of him and her mother were vague, wearing their clothes had given her a glimpse of who they had been. Her father had been taller and broader, while her mother shorter and less curvy, and together they had created a child that was somewhere in the middle.

They had created a daughter in a place that took pride in sons.

She twisted the fabric in her fingers and let it go, watching it unravel back into place.

Had her father been disappointed in her birth?

Had her mother?

Were their tears of disappointment or joy?

Who would she have been had they not died? Had she stayed and not ran? Would she have been like the other girls in the den whose lives were spent waiting to be chosen by a mate, both dreading and desperate for it? How many suitors would she have had? Would she have had any at all? Only her father had chosen her mother, and Sakura knew that she was so much more difficult than the woman who had created her had been.

That’s why the den had believed she was cursed.

Not because of the drought or the dream fever.

But because she went against everything that the den represented.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Because she couldn’t be controlled.

No matter how hard anyone tried.

Raz had told her that there was no man brain dead enough to put up with her shit.

But there was one.

One who had been so far from the den. Who looked at her not as a burden, but as a blessing. Taking on everything she was, the good with the bad, and loving her through it all.

She peeked at the man next to her, his face and behavior dignified and haughty. The woman knew why he had asked for her time.

Had she stayed, she doubted he would still want it.

Just as she knew she wouldn’t want his.

But if she were wrong, and he did show the interest, she would be powerless to refuse.

She would be his.

Whether she wanted it or not.

“How old are you?” Sakura asked, breaking the silence that had refused to budge during their walk through the village.

Yuki looked at her, having not expected her to speak first. “Twenty-six.”

“Why haven’t you chosen a mate?”

He was a man who wasn’t familiar with being questioned, only with questioning. He wasn’t one to be told. He was the one to tell.

Why the hell would he ever want her?

“None of the eligible women have been up to the standard that the den deserves.” He was to the point, honest, no shame.

What a pompous response. A product of his environment, as was she.

Sakura considered the answer, not surprised by it in the least. “Good enough for the den, or good enough for you?”

He stopped and faced her, the bamboo forest looming close by, the tall stalks marking the end of the den’s territory. “Both. I want to ask you to stay and become my mate.”

She was sort of impressed that it was a request and not a demand. “You’re actually asking me, huh?”

“I may have never left the den, but I am aware that our customs are not the same as the rest of the land. They do it differently and ask for the women to wed. I’ll admit that I had forgotten that, but your friend, the angel, told me that my previous attempts wouldn’t work. So, I thought that this would be more appealing for you since you’ve spent so much time elsewhere.”

Fucking Ren.

Of course he did.

The man may love her, but he wasn’t above making things difficult for her either.

The vixen sighed, trying to push her agitation out with her breath. “And why do you want me to be your mate, Yuki? You haven’t seen me since we were kids. You don’t even know me.”

He took a step closer to Sakura, taking her hand in his own, golden eyes sincere. “That may be true, but I do think that you’re someone who appreciates honesty, so I’ll be that with you. You are a powerful woman, and there isn’t another woman here who can compete with your strength or agility. And with that strength, I have no doubt that you will bear powerful heirs with ease. Your body was made for it. You have an ample chest, narrow waist, wide hips. Strong, yet soft. Your face is pleasing to the eyes as well. You would be a fine mate to have. One that is worthy.” It came from his mouth so naturally, as if the answer was obvious.

She stared at the man in front of her, her mouth gaping open and closed as she struggled to grasp onto any coherent thought in her head. Slowly, with caution, she pulled her hand from his and stepped back, putting some distance between the two of them. “So... you want me to be your mate because I’m… I’m good breeding stock?”

He seemed offended with the comparison. “That’s a very crude way to put it, and I would prefer not to think of it that way. We’re not cattle, after all. I like to think of it as two potent individuals coming together and creating offspring that will inherit those same desirable traits.”

Sakura hadn’t been sure what she was expecting, but she was sure this wasn’t it.

She wanted to be mad.

But she couldn’t.

“Offspring,” she repeated, the word heavy on her tongue, knowing exactly just what they were to look like. “What if I only ever bear females?” She could hear the hint of sadness in her own voice, the thought of the little girl born and the look on her mother’s face in her head. A cause for celebration that was only met with misery. Would only ever be met that way in this place.

“There’s no way that would happen.” His eyes pierced into hers with confidence. “A woman like you is only capable of birthing the most powerful of children. There would be no exceptions.”

Powerful.

Only sons.

She thought of Ren pulling out the dress that she had worn as a baby, an outfit she had no memory of, and how he so gently and lovingly tucked it away, hopeful and excited to one day have the chance to put his own daughter in it.

Their daughter.

A girl that would be wanted, cherish, and loved.

Who would be everything to them.

“You think that’s a compliment, don’t you?”

He nodded. “It is the greatest compliment I could give.”

To a woman.

It was strange to not automatically fall back into what was familiar. To not be completely consumed with rage and the irresistible urge to lash out and destroy that which was hurting her.

But it was difficult to feel much else above the pain of her heart breaking.

There was a lot that she wanted to say, but all of it would just be lost on a man with unbudgeable convictions.

Sakura regarded him, his confident stance, his expectant expression, the knowledge that he was by far the most powerful man in the den and that everyone else was beneath him.

And she remembered where she really came from, the den not being it.

“No,” the woman stated firmly. “I have no interest in being your mate.”

It was ever so slight, but the agitation was there, settling itself on his furrowing brow. “Is it because of the angel?”

It was.

But it wasn’t.

“That man is weak. He’s nothing more than a coward,” Yuki continued. “He will never be able to handle a woman like you.”

Handle?

Or control?

Sakura laughed.

She laughed from going berserk.

She laughed so she wouldn’t cry.

She laughed because she wasn’t beholden to the same archaic values of her den mates, and she could do as she pleased.

She turned from him and started her way back to her old home, her laughter floating away with her. “No, Alpha. It’s because I don’t have to, and no one can make me.”