The Heir Baby

Zarek's POV.

The plastic bank cards clattered onto the marble floor. I stood completely paralyzed, my shoes inches from the discarded plastic. I had never been defied before, least of all by her. For three years, Elara had followed my every command, always steady, always reliable. But just now, she had looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.

"It should have been Elara!" Bane’s ferocious, booming voice echoed endlessly inside my skull, vibrating with a cold, firm fury over my meticulously planned proposal to Vexia.

I pressed my fingers to my temples, desperately trying to block out my inner wolf. "This is my choice, not yours," I sighed heavily into the empty air.

"You slept with her just last month!" Bane snarled. "She was good enough for you to fuck then!"

I gritted my teeth. Just because I shared a bed with Elara and surrendered to our primal urges, letting my cock claim her body, did not make her fit to hold the sacred title of our true Luna. Fate Mates be damned. I am the Alpha King, and my solemn duty is to protect Pack EbonGrove above all personal desires.

Outside in the grand hall, the pack elders were in a state of absolute euphoria. They swarmed around me, showering me with endless congratulations, utterly overjoyed by the prospect of Vexia. She was everything they ever wanted: a high-born, noble she-wolf who stood gracefully before them, demurely stroking her flat belly and making sweet, loud promises to produce a powerful heir for the pack right away.

I watched her, but my mind involuntarily drifted. I used to genuinely think Elara would be the one standing at my side, sharing my throne. But that fragile dream shattered the day I walked past my father's study and eavesdropped on her desperate, hushed voice.

"Please, I just need more money," she had begged him.

That initial shock was followed by my own quiet investigation, leading to the sickening discovery of substantial, frequent wire transfers flowing directly from pack funds into her personal bank account. Standing in that hallway back then, I vowed I would never tie myself to a greedy, gold-digging opportunist. I refused to let anyone bleed my pack dry.

Vexia was exactly what this pack needed to thrive. She understood the intricate politics of running a territory, having grown up in an Alpha family herself. She was even gracious and kind enough to voluntarily offer to deal with Elara's severance to stave off any awkwardness between us. What other she-wolf would be so selfless? I had rationalized that Elara only cared about the payout anyway.

But my rigid justifications crumbled as I stared at the spot where Elara had just stood. Instead of greed, I was met with blinding defiance. She had screamed at me, violently thrown the loaded bank cards right at my face, and run off into the shadows. The sheer devastation in her tear-stained eyes made my chest tighten, my heart aching strangely.

Wait... did I get it all wrong? Could Elara actually love me?

Elara's POV.

My breath came in ragged, tearing gasps as I rushed blindly through the sprawling, opulent corridors of the hotel. Dodging around a corner, I inadvertently overheard the hushed gossip of the waitstaff huddled in an alcove. They cast pitying glances in my direction, whispering to each other.

"She was doing the whole 'Agent Luna' thing flawlessly for three years," one maid whispered. "But because of her low-born, orphaned status, she never stood a chance against the elders' unyielding demand for a noble-blooded heir."

The injustice of their words burned like acid. My three grueling years of flawless, exceptional work, constantly putting the pack's needs above my own exhausted body, meant absolutely nothing to them. I was just a placeholder until a real Luna came along.

"But you ARE a match for him! You’re his FATE MATE!" Lyra, my inner wolf, nearly screamed into my head, pacing aggressively against the confines of my mind.

"Well, clearly HE doesn’t care, does he?!" I internally yelled back at her, burying my claws into my own palms to keep from screaming out loud.

I pushed through the heavy glass doors and walked blindly into the suffocating, dark night. I didn't know where I was going; I just walked until my legs trembled violently and my feet simply gave out from beneath me.

I leaned heavily against a cold, iron lamppost on the deserted street. Overwhelmed by a crushing wave of total defeat, I slid down to the concrete and cried harder than the terrible day I was orphaned as a small, helpless pup. My chest heaved, my heart and eyes aching with a profound, consuming agony I had never known before. He had treated my devotion, my body, and my love like a cheap, transactional payoff. The memory of his cold blue eyes staring at me in that corridor made my stomach twist into knots.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an intense, crushing wave of exhaustion and violent dizziness hit me all at once. The world tilted dangerously on its axis. I leaned over the curb, retching painfully onto the dark street.

I gasped for air, wiping my mouth with a trembling hand. I never got sick like this. My werewolf healing prevented it.

My mind began to race, counting the weeks. Counting the days since my last period. Counting the exact days since the last time I laid in Zarek's bed and let his hard cock claim my body.

A bone-chilling, terrifying realization slammed into me with the force of a freight train, freezing the blood in my veins.

Could I… be pregnant?!