Chapter 4

The sounds coming from my current breeder were just sad. I'd been curious if my body would react to her heat the way it had to Sylvia's, and I'd come prepared to give myself over to it, but watching her didn't even get me hot.

My interest was curiously absent. So, I set the three pictures of Sylvia I'd smuggled into the room against the monitor, partially obscuring the screen. I still needed to watch and ensure the breeder's safety, but no one said I needed to see the floor of the room at the bottom of the screen.

Sylvia was much better to look at.

I pulled over my black duffel bag. It was packed full with cans, and I strained as I hauled it into the right position to work the muscles I was targeting. Since I started lifting, I found I could amp up the weight without triggering an asthma attack.

My eyes fixed on Syl's crumpled face, at the tears pouring down her cheeks. I remembered how it had felt to watch her, to feel the pain of her sobs. The mystery of it kept me doing rep after rep until my breathing became wheezy, and I was forced to stop.

By the fifteen-hour mark, I could tell this breeding session would be a long one. The breeder's movements were too slow. She wasn't anywhere near the frantic peak state that should have consumed her by now. Looked like we were in for at least a twenty-four-hour session. Good thing I'd packed myself an ample amount of beef jerky to support my healing.

I'd tear apart every muscle in my body if it meant getting one step closer to being in that room with Sylvia.

By the time it was done and the girl sat up to press the button, I was in so much pain I could barely walk. But being back in this room had been good for me. It was a reminder of everything I was working for—to see Sylvia, to touch her, to become her breeder. To learn her body and her mind, both of which threatened to consume me with curiosity.

The fresh air of the hallway was a welcome change from the small stuffy room. The heat had lasted nineteen hours, and I'd spent almost every minute repeatedly destroying my body so it could be remade stronger. I should've been exhausted.

But an idea had come to me while I'd been in there, and now I needed to see it through.

I went down the hallway and rapped my knuckles on the observation room door.

"Yes?"

I opened the door to reveal Jerry, a small, mousy guy with glasses so thick they magnified his otherwise beady eyes.

"Hey, man, I'm sick of this breeding party shit. Want to trade the next one?"

Jerry's eyes lit up, and I saw hunger in the way he pressed his lips together and considered my offer. Jerry watched the dorms. There was no guarantee of anything interesting happening on the main room cameras, while the breeding party watchers got to see some action. It wasn't unheard of for us to switch assignments.

I just hoped he wouldn't figure out my reasons.

"Well, when's the next one?"

I thought back to the schedule they'd posted on the wall, trying to make the image in my head make sense.

"Uh, three days from now."

The grin on Jerry's face was sickening, and I almost wanted to rescind my offer, but then I saw her on the monitor behind him, and my heart nearly beat its way out of my chest.

Beautiful. She was just as beautiful as I remembered from her breeding party. Only the lighting was better in the common room, the image not as grainy. Jerry noticed the way I stared, turning in his swivel chair to search the monitor.

"What? What'd you see?" He panned the camera around nervously.

"Nothing, man. I thought I saw a dead pixel on the screen, but you're good."

Jerry relaxed in his chair, turning back to look at me with furrowed brows.

"Don't scare me like that," he snarled.

Holding my hands out in a placating gesture, I reached into my duffel. My fingers closed around a sealed pack of jerky.

"Sorry, man, I have some extra of these if you want a few?"

Jerry gave a quick nod, and I handed over a couple of sticks. I could've just taken out the sticks, but I wanted him to see I had an entire pack. It was helpful for him to know in order to ease future transactions. He tore into the first pack, taking a big bite of the salty meat.

"So, I'll see you in three days?"

Jerry glared up at me, the meat visible in his mouth as he chewed.

"Yes, yes, in three days. Let me know the hour so we can switch places a bit before, and don't think you're getting out of cleanup duties. These breeders are a real pack of slobs."

Cleanup duty. His words hit home, and I nodded quickly, turning so he wouldn't see the wide smile stretching across my face. Of course, the watchers for Pack 103C would also be responsible for cleaning the place, which meant—

Shit, it was almost too much. She wouldn't be there when I went into the dorm—they didn't allow anyone to remain during the monthly deep clean—but with any luck, I'd be able to sneak into her room and have a window, at last, into the mind I desperately wanted to know.

Each set brought me closer to Sylvia. I barely felt the aches and pains I was putting my body through. A towel wrapped around my flimsy door at the dead of night allowed me to do pull-ups just as well as any bar or piece of equipment the guards used to train. Because that was who I was now—a guard. Or at least, who I needed to appear to be if I was going to slip into the breeding program unnoticed.

My hair was a shaggy mess, and as annoying as it was to get the occasional sweat-soaked strand stuck square in the eye, I was waiting to cut it until it was time to put my plan into place. It'd be soon. I was almost ready.

The request was put in for family leave. In the three years I'd been a watcher for the program, I'd never requested one and wasn't surprised when they put through my request for two months of leave.

Two months, such a long time, but also so short. I had no actual plans beyond taking my place in the program and getting to know her in the dorms, but what if—?

No, the way my body had responded to her heat was unusual, but it didn't need to mean that. The thought of her responding in kind was an impossibility I refused to consider.

Only a few more weeks now. Weeks of exquisite agony as I trained my body to resemble something worthy of the breeding program. I dropped to the floor, my lungs screaming for air I couldn't suck in fast enough. Snatching the towel from atop the door, I shut it as quietly as I could, stumbling over to my dresser and ripping the drawer open hard enough to strain the mechanism.

Every breath burned, and I could feel it worsening, as it always did during an attack. While I used to panic each time my breathing became strained, it had long become a source of annoyance. With a frustrated growl, I grabbed my blue inhaler, flipped off the plastic cap with my thumb, and brought it to my lips in one quick motion.

My heart was still pounding even as I sucked in the first bitter breath of medicine, holding it in my lungs as I'd been taught to do since childhood by my irritable mother. Fuck, I'd need to go there if only briefly to complete the illusion of my taking leave, which meant I'd need to see her and my sister. The thought of sitting down to meal with them, wearing the sour expressions they reserved for my presence, did not appeal to me. But I'd have to. It was just another one of my trials on the long road to Sylvia.

I took an extra puff of my medication, though my airways were mostly clear. I'd pushed myself too hard by hanging off the door frame for an extra second, trying to maximize the movement's impact, and I'd paid for it. It was a foolish mistake I wouldn't make again.

Every part of me ached by the time I stumbled into bed. My arms were sore from the different positions I'd been put in, and my ass was in pure agony. Luckily, I knew it would all fade after a solid night's sleep. In total, I'd taken five guys today, and that had to be good enough.

It just had to be because I needed to rest.

I awoke to the sound of a bird bumping against my window, its claws fighting for purchase on the ledgeless brick. Curious, I approached the brown bird. The poor thing was agitated, and it pulled at my heartstrings. My mind still clouded from sleep, I opened the window and watched as it perched on the edge, breathing hard. The red feathers on its chest pumped in and out violently.

It didn't move to come in, just cocked its head from side to side for a few moments. After recovering, it flew off, headed straight for the line of pines across the field.

Why or how it had come into such a predicament baffled me, but I'd been able to help it. My heart swelled at helping an innocent creature. It had been so long since I'd felt anything but fear that I stood an extra moment at the window, watching until the bird was out of sight. It tilted at the last minute when it reached the tree line, and I saw another brown bird come up to meet it. Together they swooped down, disappearing beneath the thick pine.

The life of a bird. Such simple dumb animals, but it looked a lot better than my life right now. Depending on yourself, doing your own thing, making your own choices. It was a dream I couldn't fathom, but having someone to share it with? Well, that wasn't something I bothered to hope for.

But the animals did it. As someone who had always had to safeguard herself, it seemed nice to have someone to swoop with beneath the trees.

I stared into the treeline where the birds had disappeared.

One week left before I'd know if I'd been successful this cycle.

One week until they decided whether to send me home or keep me on. It'd happened for girls before. Even if I'd failed to get pregnant, this didn't have to be my last cycle.

Exceptions were made, I reminded myself, rubbing my bare arms against the chill and moving to close the window now that my little friend was gone.

Rarely. But they were made for the right genetic combination.

They hadn't made one for my sister. A shiver traveled up my spine. Elise had failed to conceive for her four cycles and been sent to the fields. I didn't know if she'd asked to stay or begged them—as I was planning to—but they'd dismissed her as infertile and determined a different path forward for her.

A path I had no intention of treading.

This was the week when I'd bleed or test, and a quick squeeze of my breasts for pregnancy symptoms didn't tell me much. Were they sore from Carter squeezing them mercilessly, or had I achieved a pregnancy?

Fuck, I hated the mind games, but with the end of my cycle in sight, at least I didn't have to bother engaging with the guys. I could finally put The Party Girl aside and just be Syl for a while. With a sigh, I fell back on the bed with my arms outstretched, staring at the popcorn ceiling. Who was I anymore if not this desperate, fearful thing I'd become?

There was one thing I still had. One thing they couldn't take from me. One thing that was just Syl. I sat up to search through my nightstand and carefully pulled out my precious magazines. The faded ghostly faces of former celebrities and beauty queens stared back at me. Their souls were frozen in cheerful smiles, but I didn't care who they were or who they'd been.

This one had a round face with broader shoulders, and the designer had paired her with a stunning lace v-neck, open to her waist and draped across her generous breasts. Not a distraction from her shoulders, but a redirection of the eye. I loved it. I'd read these magazines a hundred times, and some pages were so badly worn I couldn't make out much about the clothes or the women wearing them. My mind was hungry to understand how it worked, and how I might use the art of clothing design to draft my own pieces.

If I was designing for someone else, I'd do something with the collar to draw attention differently. For myself, my delicate shoulders were a feature. I took out my sketchbook and a pencil, clumsily sketching my figure onto the page. It looked nothing like me, but the shape was right. Sketching a long dress, I left the neckline bare. The neckline was key. The rest of the dress would be fitted—a luxurious black dress with velvet cutouts in a pleated skirt.

I paused with my fingers poised over the blank neckline. Lace, yes. Instead of leaving the neck open as they'd done, I gave the drawing a high collar, taking the sleeves off so the dress cut in and emphasized the shoulders. It was good, but heavy. A slit between the breasts with a flash of skin would break it up. I drew in a small diamond there.

Sitting back on my knees, I admired my work.

It was beautiful, or it would be beautiful if I had any of the materials to make it. I'd love to go foraging in one of the abandoned human cities, just once. They might be ravaged by the nuclear bombs, but maybe there was something I could use. The clothes we had from those times were so picked over it was hard to find anything that would suit a dress like this.

Still, a girl had to try. I moved to my closet and found the bundle of precious scraps in the corner. Carefully taking out my needle and thread, I prepared to make yet another beautiful dress The Party Girl would never wear.