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Broken Dynasty

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A/N: First, yes a new fic, don't censor me. : )~

 

Not my fault. I was stuck at work with nothing to do. My daughter took my charger before work, so I couldn't charge my phone which I normally use to read during down time. I was just sitting there so I started to jot down an idea to pass the time. I came up with this. My take on the mate thing.

 

Warning: Some parts of this fic may get a bit angsty or dark-ish. I'll warn you at the start of each chapter.

 

Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural. Cause if I did, Destiel would be canon. Sam would either be with Gabe or Lucifer. I can't stand seeing the Winchesters having sex with a female. Sad cause I am one but truth!

 

Warnings this chapter: Violence, mild angst.

 

Chapter One

 

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Where was he? The mixture of scents was making it difficult to locate the one he sought. Which room? Sam swallowed the annoyance the longer it took him to locate his brother in the mass of bodies. How many had arrived for the affair? Was it really that big of a deal that their alpha had finally located his mate? He didn’t get what the big deal was. Dean had found his five years ago and no one had bothered to throw a celebration. If they had, he couldn’t remember it. At the time he wouldn’t have been invited to any type of party. Hell, he wasn’t really invited to this one. At the age of thirty-seven, he was still considered a child. He was Remala. His kind were human, but not. There wasn’t many of their kind left, despite being able to live for centuries. Sure, they were stronger, faster, and possessed unnatural healing abilities. They could still be slain just like anyone else. What had their population dwindling was the fact they were killing each other off faster than they could procreate. Clan Wars were still very much an everyday occurrence. Since there weren’t many of them left, the few that held power wanted to be the one in charge. There was a total of thirty-one clans left in the states, spread out in different locations. Theirs being the only one currently located in Kansas.

 

Growing up, Sam had been forced to always stay at the estate. It got confusing when the young boy he had once snuck out to play with had begun to grow up. His brother had sat him down to explain why they were different. Why there was nothing but males in their home. The estate was home, always would be. Sam had noticed that there were no females, yet it hadn’t mattered to him. Just as he hadn’t questioned it when Dean had introduced Castiel as his mate. He’d read all the books during his lessons. Remala came in two kinds; alphas and breeders. The alpha was always born first; born with the natural instinct to protect and pamper their breeder. Their destined mate, it never varied. The dominant of the pair was the strong one, the fierce protector, and the beast. The irony of it all was that the submissive one reflected the true strength of their mate. The stronger the breeder, the more powerful the alpha. Physical stature down to personality; it all reflected the potential of the one born to protect them.

 

Smells, they were everywhere. Sam inhaled the horrible scent of burnt wood and rotting eggs. Yes, he knew that scent. It belonged to the one known as Crowley. One of the clan leaders that had come for the affair. Was it just him, or did the man need a serious bath? Soap, it wasn’t that expensive. Pity, why did he have to be cursed with a set of working nostrils? There was the fact that he naturally had a better sense of smell than his brother. He had no problem differentiating between each person’s unique scent. Dean reminded him of baby powder, while Castiel was mint. It was the hint of baby powder that he was looking for in the crowd. His brother had promised that he’d be able to sneak into the party.

 

Still a child and banned, because he hadn’t presented yet. A technicality at most. Sam already knew what he was. The same as Dean, he was a breeder. Despite already being a good six feet in height, Sam had no doubt what he was. His outward appearance may be that of a scrawny teenager, yet he was aware of what he was. There was no way he was anything else. Sam was just waiting for his body to start scenting, the sign that he was ready for his mate. He’d never experienced it, he wasn’t old enough. Once a breeder was mature, their glands alerted them and their mates. Each breeder had two glands located inside, both with a purpose. The largest was to secrete a natural lubricant to make mating easier. Any form of arousal would stimulate the gland. The most important was the smaller, to give off their own unique scent. An alpha’s scent seeped from their pours.

 

Sam couldn’t locate his brother in the overabundance of ass. Stopping in the hallway, sliding to a stop in his haste to catch just a glimpse of the one. The aroma was almost being drowned out by burnt wood and a bad fart. There was no covering up the one scent that he had made a point of finding anywhere. Not because it was family. Being clan meant being family. Standing inside the near empty office was him. The strange feeling presented itself once more as his gaze settled on the lone figure leaning casually against the desk. Smoke escaping from the parted lips, the blue eyes staring at the shorter alpha. The hint of rosemary, Michael was also inside the office. This was how he knew he was born to be someone’s submissive. The way the man older man made him feel. At first, he had noticed that he liked Lucifer’s scent. Years ago, it was simply comforting. Now being in the same room had his heart thumping wildly.

 

Dean had told him that he had known years beforehand that Castiel was the one for him. That sometimes a breeder was able to detect their mate before they presented. They were more in tune with their primitive side. Sam believed it. It was the only explanation for the way he felt whenever he got anywhere near the man. It wasn’t because Lucifer had once been his tutor. Growing up, it had been the older alpha to visit him when he should have been studying. Many a day he had snuck out with the man to do things as mundane as going for a walk or going to get ice cream. Lucifer had also been the one to cause him to get into trouble. Wasn’t it a sign that Lucifer had yet to find his mate when his age was thrice of when most of their kind normally found their one?

 

“Sam? What are you doing down here?” Michael turned his attention away from his guest to address the young boy that was standing in the doorway. This meeting wasn’t exactly private, but it wasn’t for a child’s ears. Crowley was here on the pretense of a truce. He wasn’t buying it. The man had ulterior motives for coming here. They didn’t like each other, nothing had changed. What he didn’t need was a young one getting in the way in case things took a turn for the worse. Especially when he was positive that little Sammy was going to present as a breeder.

 

“Nothing, Sir. I was looking for my brother.” And because he couldn’t take his eyes off of Michael’s. Sam felt the heat rising in his cheeks. Did he have to be so obvious with his crush? Their leader didn’t bother to hide the chuckle at his bold ogling. Not his fault. Lucifer was downright sinful in those tight jeans and dress shirt. Dammit, he could see the man’s thing despite being covered. “Sorry.”

 

“Is that little Sammy?” Crowley inhaled sweet aroma. The boy wasn’t scenting yet, but there was no hiding the candy. Delicious, the clan had a rare treasure in its clutches. He could only imagine what the young one would smell like once he matured. Not to mention Sam was turning into a stunning piece. That face, someone was going to be a beauty.

 

“Hello, Crowley, Sir.” Sam was polite to the company. Dean would lecture him if he were rude to anyone. Some of the other clans were strict on the manners of their breeders. Michael was known for being lax with those close to him. Dean being mated to Castiel, put him as close to family as one could get without sharing the same blood. The man reminded him of a damn troll.

 

“Let me get a look at you.” Polite as well. Crowley ignored the tension that began to fill the room. He wasn’t going to hurt the kid. He just wanted a better look at him. He wouldn’t touch. One shouldn’t let something this special run around unattended, and in his nightclothes at that. The cotton pajamas didn’t hide the slender form beneath. In a few years the body would fill out to perfection. Sam’s stature would only prove the worth of the alpha destined to be his mate. And that smell, it made his mouth water. Thick and sweet with just enough spice to make one’s tongue swell. “An alliance if you let me have him.”

 

“Go fuck yourself, you fat fuck.” Etiquette be damned. Lucifer smashed the cherry into the glass ashtray. Michael could kiss his ass. It was enough that he was being silent for the talk. That was all he had agreed upon. Centuries ago, he had been a good brother and had backed down when Michael had stepped up to lead their clan. Lucifer had no designs on the position. He wasn’t a leader. He wasn’t a follower either, but shit, he just didn’t have the mental capacity to care enough to be what their family needed. For them, it wasn’t about dick-waving or proving who was the strongest as with most clans. Michael was the better leader and they all knew it. Still at times like this, he wasn’t above letting his mouth act before his brain had time to think. What the hell was Dean thinking not paying closer attention to Sam? To let the kid come down with so many strangers roaming the estate. It was asking for trouble. Someone like Crowley wouldn’t hesitate to act when confronted with an opportunity.

 

They all smelt it, except Dean. Other breeders wouldn’t be able to detect what they did. The fact that Sammy was going to be one. All of them carried a soft, pleasant scent. Sam’s however was different. It was already delicious enough to make all of them take note. Even Michael who had a mate. His big bro would never cheat or be tempted, but his damn nose wasn’t broke. Lucifer hated how Sam smelt! He was already attached to the little shit and now he was going to become someone’s submissive mate. In a few years, another alpha would come to claim the kid. Another man was going to be the one to sample that sweet flesh. One thing was for sure, it wasn’t going to be the disgusting pig standing in the room. “Another inch and I gut you.”

 

“Lucifer!” They didn’t need a fight breaking out. Michael held off the confrontation with a wave of his hand. His brother would obey as long as Crowley didn’t do something stupid like actually try to touch the boy. It was against clan rules to attack a visiting alpha. They didn’t need the conflict. Crowley led the largest clan in the nation.

 

Had he done something wrong? Sam took a step back. Dean wasn’t here, so he should go. He didn’t like the way the man was looking at him. “Please excuse me, I didn’t mean to interrupt. May I leave?”

 

“Yes, go.” Michael dismissed him before it got out of hand. He wouldn’t put it past Crowley to try touching. Then someone would end up losing a few fingers. Lucifer was known for his ill temper. With a slight bow, the boy raced off. Good, they had business to discuss.

 

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Where was he? Crowley licked his lips, impatient to find his prey. Michael had always been a fool. The only one he was concerned with was Lucifer. The second in command was a fucking monster, they all knew it. It was no wonder the man didn’t have a mate. What kind of creature was the perfect match for someone as vile and ill-tempered as a devil in the flesh? Finally, there was the boy. This clan was weak. To leave the innocent Sammy alone and vulnerable. “There you are.”

 

No! Sam cringed at the voice. Wasn’t the man gone? The party had ended in the early hours of the morning. Most of the guests had gone home immediately. He hadn’t thought of the odds when he had woken up this morning. After a shower and light breakfast, Sam always came out to the gardens to read. It was his favorite thing to do. No one disturbed him here. Michael said his thirst for knowledge was a good trait. Why was the troll seeking him out? “Can I help you?”

 

The garden. A nice place for a tryst, he couldn’t have chosen better himself. Crowley didn’t see anyone else around. This was the perfect chance to persuade the breeder to join him. Being here couldn’t be lucrative. It would be years before a mate came into the picture. Until then, he could see himself indulging in the flawless flesh. “Do you like it out here?”

 

“Yes, Sir. I often come here to read.” Sam wouldn’t disclose his normal schedule to someone he didn’t really know. No one would come out here for hours. It was the reason he had originally chosen it. Then Lucifer had put up the hammock for him to relax in. Laying in the netting today only made him uncomfortable as he was approached.

 

Cherry candy. That was what he smelt. Crowley inhaled deeply to savor the flavor that would change once he relieved the kid of his innocence. It would only alter slightly once Sam’s body knew the stretch of being with a man. He was going to enjoy being the one to introduce the breeder to sex. He couldn’t wait to taste the slick that would come once he managed to force his tongue into the untouched hole. “You smell ripe, boy. Like a piece of fruit that is waiting to have its juices suckled upon. Take off your clothes.”

 

What was that? Take off his….. no way. Sam quickly righted himself on the braided rope. Take off his clothes. There would only be one reason for the demand. Okay, two, but he didn’t think Crowley was in the medical field. The lust in the man’s eyes was unmistakable, even for a virgin like Sam. He was young, not stupid. The man had sought him out for a reason, and it wasn’t to inquire about his tastes in literature. “No.”

 

“No?” No? The little shit had just told him no. Guest or not, he was a damn alpha. Crowley wasn’t at all shocked at the impudence. Michael was too soft and would let his cock dictate how their breeders were treated. The boy should know his place. The only time would should treat them delicately was when they were carrying. He wasn’t leaving without sampling him. “You don’t get to tell me no, Sammy.”

 

“Don’t call me that,” The only ones that could were his brother and Lucifer. Why him? There were others here that might be tempted or desperate enough to lay with the pudgy man. What was he to do? Sam didn’t dare move as the space was crossed. “Please leave.”

 

That was funny. The little bitch thought to tell him what to do. Crowley wanted to toss him down and cram him full of cock. That would only get him in trouble. Rape would earn him a few moments with the boy, then it would be over. No, he didn’t want just a few minutes. He wanted him. The key was to get Michael to hand him over without much fuss. Asking wouldn’t work. No, he had to make it so Michael would gladly offer the boy as compensation. “I bet you love sucking cock, you got the mouth for it.”

 

No, he didn’t. Sam clenched his fist at the insult. Was it meant to be an insult? The way his lips were being stared upon, the jerk probably considered it a compliment. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t going to do anything with him. “Doesn’t matter because I’ll never suck yours.”

 

“You have an attitude. I get the feeling you’ve never been put in your place.” Right after their first session of erratic fucking, he was going to spank some manners into the brat. Crowley wondered what it would take to set him off. “You do realize you are going to be a bitch, right? You’re nothing but a piece of ass for men like myself to use. Michael may put up with your sass for now, but that is only because he knows what a commodity you are. You’re going to be a beauty once you start producing slick. Pretty little thing like you, you’re going to have many a man filling your tight ass.”

 

“Shut up!” That wasn’t true. Sam hoped he did grow to be nice looking. What would never happen was the jibe about the many a man and his ass. He would only allow one man to touch him. That was his mate. He knew what he sensed, and he belonged to Lucifer. “You’re wrong.”

 

There was the button. He had him. The rumor was true, the kid had a crush. The blush that had crept into the smooth cheeks when he had come into the room. The animosity he had felt from the idiot brother when he had stepped too close. Sammy had a crush. Lucifer had a problem. It would be his way to gain a new lover. “I don’t think so. Look at you, Sammy. You practically wet yourself earlier when Lucifer did nothing but look in your direction. You’re already on your way to becoming a nasty whore. If you’ll get wet for family, how soaked will you become once I show you my cock? You know you want to see what I have to offer. It isn’t like you’re going to get it from Lucifer. He is nowhere good enough for you. If he were capable of getting it up, he would have already fucked you. Either he can’t or you don’t do it for him.”

 

“Shut UP!” Sam saw red at the implication. The man was wrong. Lucifer was perfect, he was a great man. There was nothing wrong with him. It hurt hearing that ‘he didn’t do it for him.’ The sinister laugh was the snapping point. He didn’t think twice about balling up his fist and delivering the much-deserved punch to the face. It gave him little satisfaction to witness the blood flowing from the nose. He didn’t care that the man screamed for Michael or for someone to come. He brought his foot up to connect with the cock the asshole was so desperate to show him. Another well placed strike to the side of the head made the unwelcome guest stumble to the side.

 

“SAM!” Castiel managed to get both arms around the trembling form before another hit could take the man to the ground. That was enough. Whatever the man had done, this wouldn’t solve it. Whatever had been done, Sam shouldn’t hit him. “Calm down.”

 

Fuck, the kid had one hell of a swing. Crowley spit the blood onto the ground. Whoever the breeder belonged to, he didn’t want to ever meet them. An alpha’s strength was twenty times more destructive than their mate’s. Sam was already a force to behold and he wasn’t mature. Good, they had him under control. “I demand you bring Michael to me. That boy just struck me without provocation.”

 

“You filthy fucking liar. You had it coming.” Sam wanted to hit him again. What did it matter? To say that shit about Lucifer. The man had provoked him. “He deserved it, Dean.”

 

“Dammit, Sammy.” Dean sighed hearing the commotion. This wasn’t good. They had an audience. Sam couldn’t understand what he had done by striking the man. They had gotten there first because they had been on their way to get breakfast. He had warned his brother about his temper.

 

Good, they were strolling out. Crowley inwardly smiled at how easy this was going to be. Michael would have no choice but to hand the boy over to him. Without waiting to be asked he ripped into the other alpha leader. “This breeder struck me. What kind of clan do you lead here, Michael? What kind of alpha allows those lesser than him to run wild?”

 

“Silence,” Michael observed the situation. Sam appeared to be unharmed, only upset. It was Crowley that was bleeding and with a face that was starting to swell. No way, Sam couldn’t have done that much damage. “You expect me to believe that Sam did that to you?”

 

“He did. He didn’t like what I said so he decided to strike me.” Crowley wasn’t above a bit of manipulation to get his way. “I came here under the terms of a truce. The law clearly states that no blood is to be shed under these terms.”

 

“He was talking bad about Lucifer.” Sam didn’t care about any truce. The man had become his enemy the moment he had started badmouthing Lucifer. If Cas weren’t so damn strong, he would gladly continue beating the man’s ass.

 

“Be as that may, he is within his right to say whatever he wants about Lucifer. Be it calling him an asshole or saying he has no dick.” Michael couldn’t believe this mess. It wasn’t even nine in the morning. Lucifer wasn’t smiling despite hearing that Sam had tried to defend his honor.

 

“Still the coward, Crow?” Lucifer snapped at the pig in a suit. Talking shit about him to others. He didn’t want to know what had been said to set Sam off. It was a tactic, a bloody well played one at that. Sam had struck another clan leader under the guise of a truce. There would be repercussions for the actions. Seeing the satisfied smirk, his stomach knotted. That was obviously Crowley’s intentions all along.

 

Coward or no, tonight he would be enjoying the warm flesh of Sam. Crowley stood to his full height and addressed the forming crowd. Let Michael turn him down if he dared. “I demand you hand the boy over to me for punishment. He broke the terms of truce which we agreed upon. You will give him to me as payment. That is the law!”

 

What? Sam died inside hearing the demand. That wasn’t possible. They couldn’t do that. He would rather die than be given to the man. Michael wouldn’t do that, would he? He wanted to speak out, to beg for another outcome. Cas tightened the hold on him, indicating that he should remain silent instead of digging an even deeper hole for himself. Would he be handed over? Lucifer wouldn’t allow it.

 

“You never did play fair, Crowley.” Michael grabbed the thick cotton of his brother’s shirt before another problem was added to this shit-fest. The plan had been ingenious, he’d give it to the weasel. He should have known something would happen after the way the man had eye-fucked Sam in his office. Since that moment, Crowley had spent every second figuring out a way to get Sam gifted to him with a nice pink ribbon tied to his ass. “My answer is no. Don’t quote me the law. The law also states that if it is a breeder that has yet to mature, another form of punishment can be handed out. I won’t give him to you. I will allow you to appoint the one to wield the whip.”

 

“No, I want him handed over to me.” Fuck whipping! He’d make sure to soundly whip the luscious ass on his own terms. Crowley seethed at the backhanded way to outsmart him. A whipping! It was within Michael’s right, true. It was whip him or hand him over. Fine, see if they would be so willing to mar that beautiful flesh. “Fine, since it was Lucifer’s honor the boy was defending, he can do it. One hundred lashes.”

 

“Ten!” Michael put his foot down. They weren’t going to cause permanent damage to Sam. That would force whoever was whipping him to turn him over. Sam wouldn’t be able to take that much. One hundred, that was absurd.

 

“He struck me three times and I did not retaliate. Fifty!” Crowley wanted Lucifer to be the one to admit defeat and give in. Once the man was unable to finish the punishment, Michael would have no choice but to hand Sam over. “Your brother administers fifty lashes, or I spread word of the way you handle clan affairs. Or is your brother too soft to do what needs to be done? If so, save the boy the pain and simply hand him over.”

 

That sniveling pig! Lucifer saw it, the decision in Michael’s eyes. His brother would rather hand Sam over to the man than to make him endure that kind of pain. No, he wouldn’t allow it. “Fifty, and you can keep track. If you can fucking count that high. Take him to the tree and take off his shirt, Castiel. Someone fetch me the whip.”

 

“Come, Sam.” Castiel took the limp weight to the tree. Rope was already being delivered. This was the only way. Michael was being backed into a corner. As if realizing it, Sam didn’t protest or resist at being tied to the tree. The flimsy shirt was cut away as the wrist were tied together and strung up. “Don’t tense up or it’ll be worse.”

 

“Cas!” Dean pleaded his lover and mate with his eyes. There had to be another way. Sam may be willing to accept this, but could he survive it? This was going to do more than deliver a whipping. Sammy snuck into Lucifer’s room during a storm for a reason. The two shared a bond that went beyond being family. To force the man to brutally assault someone that trusted him. It could possibly shatter the illusion of being safe. That haven would be stolen from his brother. Lucifer would be the one to cause Sam his greatest pain. “Don’t do this.”

 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel didn’t want his mate to watch. It would be too much. Lucifer would do what needed to be done. If Sam was given to Crowley, things would be a lot worse for his brother. They knew what they were doing. They had been outplayed.

 

“By law, each strike must draw blood, or it doesn’t count.” Crowley reinforced the stipulation waiting for the moment he would win. “I don’t have all day!”

 

“One day, I will kill you for this.” Lucifer accepted the whip that was given. It would do the job in making Sam bleed. A threat wasn’t breaking the laws of a truce, not unless he acted on it. Lucifer wanted the man to know what he had coming to him. Michael gave the order to begin. “Count and don’t accidently forget where you were.”

 

Sam waited for it. It was this or go with the man. He had no doubt in his mind that Lucifer would not stop until the full fifty had been given. The sharp whistle split the air a fraction of a second before the heat spread across his back. The pain horrifying and enough to make him cry out. Blood had been drawn, he had felt his skin split open. Before he could fully catch his breath, the next landed closer to his left shoulder this time. Knowing who held the whip was worse than the pain as each blow came down without giving him time to think about it. Over and over, voices became distant. Each welt somehow managed to cause more pain in his chest than the one before. Even as Dean begged Lucifer to stop, the thin weapon continued to rain down.

 

Fifty. Lucifer dropped the damn thing. His lungs burned. His vision had blurred around the tenth strike. Hatred boiled in his gut seeing the tender skin being torn apart. More than flesh was being destroyed by his hand. The sobs couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. His name escaped but not once was he asked to stop. Sam went slack in the rope when seconds passed without another lash being delivered. What had he done? This for a fucking truce the bastard wouldn’t uphold. He gave it a year before Crowley went back on his word. All this for an alliance with a pathetic piece of shit that wasn’t worth spitting on. He didn’t dare move as Sam was cut down and taken away. How could he ever hope that the fates would one day be kind enough to bless him with Sam as a mate? The flesh would mend, but he had just left scars that time wouldn’t heal.

 

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This was more of a prologue.... Next chapter will be the actual start of things. Please comment for me. Nothing more depressing to have the hits but no one leaves a comment. Talk to me!