Breeder by Cara Bristol Read Free Book Online Page A

sovereign Commander wielded tremendous power, but fools existed who might challenge his rule.
    “I shall be in my office. When you have finished getting Omra settled, join me so we may catch up.” The Commander clapped his beta on the shoulder before disappearing down the corridor.
    “Follow.” Corren snapped his fingers and took off in the opposite direction at a fast clip. He stopped at a door and pushed it open. “Formal sitting parlor.”
    She peeked inside and spied tapestries gracing divans and chairs. Females who had expended their breeding capabilities sometimes were retired to textile-weaving facilities.
    “We entertain dignitaries and other officials of importance here. You are not to linger in this room except to clean it or to serve guests.”
    “Yes, beta.”
    “With the exception of a few, which I shall point out, you will not set foot in any of the rooms other than to maintain them.”
    “I understand.”
    Next he showed her the adjacent chamber. “There is a smaller, private hall for every day, but this is used for formal dining when we have dignitaries in residence.”
    A massive table spanned the length of the room, and she gulped when she counted seating for sixteen. A host shared more than food with his guests. He closed the door and strode down the hall. He pointed to a portal he did not bother to open.
    “The library.” A dismissive smile curled his lips. “You will have little use of that. But keep it clean.”
    He waved his hand at a corridor. “Guest sleeping chambers,” he said and continued on.
    She recognized the food preparation room by its gleaming metal tables, storage units, and cooking appliances. A wave of nostalgia swept over Omra as she remembered standing at her mother’s side while she prepared meals for her alpha. Though females did not eat until the men had had their fill, her mother would sneak her little tidbits as she cooked and had permitted her to lick the spoon she’d used to stir the batter of the sweetcakes, a favorite of Omra’s sire.
    “Can you cook?” Corren asked.
    “A little,” she said. Her mother had taught her everything she knew about food preparation, but that did not mean the Commander and his beta would approve of what she made. And her skills were rusty, since she hadn’t cooked since she’d entered the BCF.
    “Your first task is to prepare the evening meal. It should be served at sunset. Do not disappoint Alpha.” He pointed to a small table in the corner. “When you have finished serving, you may take your meals there.”
    He showed her several bathing chambers and singled out the tiniest. “You may use this one.”
    “How often may I bathe?” she asked.
    His nostrils flared. “I would suggest as often as possible.” Corren started to leave, but then leaned so close that his breath stirred the strands of hair on her face. She had to force herself not to flinch. “For reasons I cannot discern, the Commander views you with favor. I do not. You would do well to heed my instruction and see that you do not provoke my ire.”
    * * * *
    Omra’s stomach growled as she used heat-impervious gloves to remove the tray of meat and golden tubers from the oven. After the idleness of the BCF, working filled her with satisfaction. She set the roaster on the metal counter and popped in the next pan. She’d had to improvise, since she’d discovered the food prep facility was stocked with only basic ingredients, but she’d whipped up a sweetcake of sorts. She hoped Alpha liked it; she wanted to please him. And Corren. If she could. She could not say that his pronouncement surprised her; she’d sensed his dislike upon arrival.
    Before Corren left to join the Commander, he had shoved a small pile of clothing into her arms. She’d unfolded them and found a couple of new shifts and some hair-care implements. She’d checked the time, seasoned the meat and, after placing it in the oven to bake, scurried to the bathing chamber.
    Oh how glorious!