No Price on My Heir

Alpha Zaire's POV

"Speaker," I demanded.

Doctor Cade’s finger shook as he tapped the glowing screen of his mobile device. The sterile hum of the lab equipment faded into the background, replaced by the heavy, suffocating weight of my rising temper. The call connected.

"Doctor Soren, I was just about to call you," Cade said, his voice tight.

"Have you broken the news to your Alpha?" The voice on the other end, Doctor Soren, carried a tone of conspiratorial hushed urgency.

My jaw locked. They had already discussed this. These two physicians, men who were supposed to serve their respective packs, were having a private chat about my bloodline behind my back. The sheer audacity grated against my pride.

"Yes, and how did your Luna take it?" Cade asked. He shot a terrified glance in my direction.

I stood rooted to the spot, listening intently. My mind worked through the variables. I barely knew Luna Freya. I never entertained pack gossip, and her character remained a blank slate in my intelligence reports. But people in power always had an angle. This mix-up reeked of calculated ambition. What better way to stake a claim on the Shadow Fang pack than by carrying the Alpha’s heir? I refused to make this easy for her.

"She is ready to pay him for his semen," Soren stated.

The air in the room snapped. My blood ran hot, a sudden, fierce burn tracing my veins. Deep in my mind, Titan thrashed.

*We do not sell our pup,* my wolf snarled, his presence vast and aggressive.

*I know,* I assured him, forcing the beast to stay beneath my skin.

Did Luna Freya think I was some desperate rogue? I ruled an empire. Money meant nothing to me. More importantly, I refused to let any female bear my child unless it was Veda. Veda was chosen. She was safe. This foreign Luna stepping into my life was a threat.

"Doctor Soren, I don’t think that would work," Cade replied, stating the obvious.

"What are his conditions?" Soren asked.

I hit my limit. The time for middlemen had expired. I stepped forward and snatched the phone straight out of Cade’s trembling hand.

"My semen is not for sale," I growled into the receiver. "Tell your Luna that I want to meet her."

Silence stretched over the line. I left no room for negotiation. She needed to look me in the eye and deliver a flawless explanation, or she would face the consequences of stealing from me.

Doctor Soren cleared his throat. "Her condition is very fragile at the moment. I have to discuss it first with her."

Fragile? I narrowed my eyes. How could a female who ruled the largest territory in North America be fragile? My paranoia spiked. This had to be a stalling tactic.

"You have ten minutes," I ordered.

"Can you please make it an hour?" Soren pleaded, the desperation clear in his tone. "She must be resting now."

I ran a hand through my hair, calculating his words. Was he buying time to move her? To hide my unborn heir?

"Unless you do not know the implications of what your error has caused, you will not be asking me for more time," I warned, letting the lethal promise hang in the air.

Soren swallowed hard. "I will get back to you shortly."

I ended the call. The silence in the lab stretched, thick and unbearable. The technicians pressed their backs against the walls, terrified of making a sound. I paced the floor. My pack’s future was currently gestating in the womb of a stranger. My thoughts twisted in a dark knot until Cade’s phone chimed again. I still held the device in my grip. I answered it immediately.

"My Luna is ready when you are," Soren said.

"I am on my way." I tossed the phone onto a metal counter.

I exited the lab and strode down the corridor to my office. Beta Vance waited by the doorway. I grabbed my dark coat from the rack and shrugged it on.

"Call me if there is any problem," I told Vance. "I will be back in a few hours."

"Alpha, please let me come with you," Vance pleaded. Worry etched lines into his face. He knew Titan’s temper. He feared I would tear the Cobalt pack apart and start a territorial war.

"Take care of the pack," I commanded, meeting his gaze. "You know you are the only one I trust with the borders."

Vance nodded, conceding to the order. "Alright. But please take it easy. Remember that she is pregnant. Artificial means carry a higher risk of miscarriage."

I paused. That explained Soren’s comment about her delicate condition. One wrong move, one spike of my Alpha aura, and I could accidentally kill my own pup.

"I will try my best," I muttered.

I walked out of the packhouse and got into my car. The Cobalt pack sat an hour's drive away. I needed the isolation of the road to temper my rage. I drove fast, the tires eating up the asphalt as I crossed the invisible boundary lines dividing our territories.

Beta Darius stood waiting for me at the border gates. He offered a respectful bow and climbed into a lead vehicle to escort me inside. I kept my eyes sharp, analyzing every detail of Luna Freya’s domain as we drove through her lands.

I had to admit, the Cobalt pack commanded respect. The infrastructure showcased wealth and discipline. Through the dense pines, I spotted her warriors running drills on the mountain slopes. They moved with absolute precision and lethal intent. Even in the absence of their Luna, the pack operated like a well-oiled machine.

The residential zones impressed me further. The streets lay immaculate. She utilized a brilliant three-story housing design, maximizing space without sacrificing the aesthetic of the forest. I could not gauge how many families shared a single unit, but it gave the illusion of a massive, sprawling fortress. Her central packhouse dominated the skyline, a grand five-story structure. For our kind, stairs meant nothing. The height was a display of dominance.

Darius led me past the main entrance of the packhouse and guided me down a hidden stairwell. The path descended into an underground living room. The choice of location fascinated me. It offered unmatched security and privacy.

I stepped into the room and let my eyes adjust to the ambient lighting. The space radiated sophistication. Mahogany bookshelves lined the stone walls, interspersed with rare historical artifacts displayed on illuminated pedestals. The decor carried a distinct feminine touch—plush rugs, curved seating arrangements, warm earthy tones—yet it held the heavy, secure feel of a bunker.

I stood in the center of the room, reevaluating my host. The Alpha hierarchy was a brutal, unforgiving arena. Male Alphas constantly challenged one another for supremacy. Yet here was a lone she-wolf, holding her ground, ruling over North America's largest pack, and making it thrive. She was no ordinary female.

"Alpha Zaire, please make yourself comfortable."

The voice drifted down from the top of the sweeping wooden staircase. Grace dripped from every syllable. I turned.

I never gave females more than a passing glance. They threw themselves at me, batting their eyes and flaunting their scents, but I always walked away. Yet, as Luna Freya descended the stairs, my gaze locked onto her. She demanded attention without trying.

She wore tailored black pants and a fitted black turtleneck. A crimson shawl draped elegantly around her neck, adding a sharp strike of color. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders. But it was her hazel eyes that trapped me. They held a deep, unreadable depth—a mixture of ancient exhaustion and unyielding authority. She was beauty, charm, and raw power wrapped into one form.

I forced myself to break the trance. I had an empire to run and a fiancée waiting back home. I stood my ground, keeping my posture rigid.

With a simple, fluid wave of her hand, Freya dismissed her Beta and the two domestic workers lingering by the archway. They bowed and retreated upstairs without a single question. I watched the display of loyalty. It took me verbal commands and fierce glares to enforce my will, yet she orchestrated her people with a mere flick of her wrist.

"Coffee? Tea?" she offered, her tone polite but guarded.

I stared at her tight, diplomatic smile. I could not read her motives. Was she playing the gracious host, or was this a trap? Alphas vanished over poisoned drinks in neutral territories all the time. I refused to let my guard down.

"I prefer we move straight to business," I said, my voice cold.

Freya did not flinch at my blunt rejection. She reached the bottom of the stairs and closed the distance between us, extending her hand.

"Then let me welcome you to the Cobalt pack," she said smoothly. "It must be your first time."

I looked at her outstretched hand. I kept my arms at my sides. A flash of disappointment crossed her hazel eyes, there and gone in a fraction of a second. She dropped her hand gracefully, unfazed by my disrespect. She stood inches from me, undaunted by my towering height or the heavy, suffocating Alpha aura I projected.

Then, a sudden realization hit me. I inhaled discreetly. Nothing.

I could not smell her.

Every wolf possessed a distinct scent. It revealed their rank, their emotions, their lineage. But Luna Freya smelled like nothing. Just the faint trace of expensive soap and cotton. I pushed my senses further, trying to feel the presence of her inner wolf. The space within her felt empty, devoid of the primal energy that defined our kind.

Confusion warring with suspicion set my nerves on edge. She was an anomaly. But her lack of scent was not the problem I came to solve. I locked my focus back onto the mission.

"Alright," Freya said, stepping back to create space. She maintained her composure. "This is the deal. I am ready to pay you ten million as compensation for the mix-up."

Ten million.

A dark, mocking laugh echoed inside my head, though my face remained a mask of stone. Did she really think my legacy carried a price tag? Did she view me as a sperm bank donor looking for a payout?

I unbuttoned my coat and moved toward the luxury two-in-one sofa. I needed to sit before Titan broke through and shattered the calm facade. I lowered myself into the plush cushions. Freya took a seat on the opposite sofa, maintaining a careful distance. Her eyes locked onto mine, a subtle eagerness shining in her irises. She waited for my counteroffer, clearly hoping money would make this nightmare disappear.

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees. I stared directly into her hazel eyes, letting the full weight of my dominance crash down on her.

"I am willing to pay you ten billion to be my surrogate," I countered, my voice low and lethal.

I watched the color drain from her face. Her confident posture stiffened as the sheer magnitude of the number and the reality of her trapped position hit her.

"It’s either that," I finished, "or you give me back my semen."