The Alpha's Ultimatum

Luna Freya's POV

His demand hung in the stale air of the underground living room. Ten billion dollars to be his surrogate, or return his semen.

My jaw locked tight enough to crack my teeth. What made this arrogant Alpha think I would sell the pup I had bled, cried, and prayed for? A ten-billion-dollar payout meant nothing to me. But his second option—demanding the return of his semen—was a clinical, horrific demand for an abortion.

A vicious snarl vibrated against my ribs. My inner wolf, Nyx, slammed against the mental barriers I kept locked in place. She wanted blood. She wanted to rip his throat open for daring to threaten our unborn pup. Heat flooded my veins, and I felt my claws pressing sharply against the flesh of my palms, threatening to break the skin.

I forced myself to inhale the metallic scent of the room. One wrong move, one spike of unchecked aggression, and I would start a pack war between Cobalt and Shadow Fang. Worse, the stress could endanger the fragile life taking root inside my womb. I shoved Nyx down, wrestling her back into the dark recesses of my mind. The effort took a massive toll on my exhausted body.

"I want the pup," I stated. I kept my voice slow and unyielding. I refused to let him see the tremor in my hands. "But I can never be your surrogate."

Alpha Zaire did not blink. His expression remained carved from ice. When he spoke, his tone was more ruthless than before. "Then be my wife."

The underground room suddenly felt too small. I stared at him, searching his flawless features for a hint of a joke. There was nothing. He sat there, immaculate in his crisp white shirt and tailored dark pants, demanding I bind my life to his. I knew why the she-wolves across the territories drooled over him. He possessed a raw, magnetic perfection. But beneath that attractive exterior lay a man made of stone. To me, he was heartless, no matter how he tried to hide it under the swagger that made him attractive to the masses. I was done with the menfolk. After everything I had endured, all I wanted was a pup to call my own. How was that so hard?

A bitter laugh tore from my throat before I could swallow it down. "Hahahaha." I shook my head, the sound bouncing off the stone walls. "That is out of the equation."

His jaw ticked. The immediate rejection offended his Alpha pride. "Okay," he said, shifting his weight forward. "Then I want my semen back, or you abort the fetus."

My hand flew to my flat stomach. I rubbed the fabric of my dress, a desperate shield over the life growing inside. "Over my dead body would I get rid of this pup growing in my womb."

I leaned forward, refusing to back down from his oppressive aura. "How can you be so heartless? You are engaged," I reminded him, my voice rising with anger. "You don't love me, and I don't love you. What kind of marriage would that be? Why are you so selfish?"

I locked my gaze onto his ferocious stare, refusing to look away. He had maintained a terrifying calm since arriving in my territory. Now, my accusations hit a nerve.

The air pressure in the room plummeted, making it difficult to draw breath. Zaire’s eyes flashed to a predatory gold. His inner wolf clawed its way to the surface, demanding submission. He leaned closer, and a guttural growl ripped through his gritted teeth.

"Did it not occur to you that the seed you are carrying is the heir of the Shadow Fang Pack?" The dominance in his voice forced me back against the cushions. "Do you know the implications of giving birth to him out of wedlock? If you must know, that is the future of my pack in your womb."

His words sliced through my defenses. He wasn't just a cold man protecting his ego. He was an Alpha protecting his bloodline. In our world, an illegitimate heir was a fatal blow to a pack's stability. I had been so consumed by my selfish need to become a mother that I ignored the geopolitical nightmare this mix-up created.

The fight drained from my bones. I felt helpless, paralyzed by the impossible trap closing around me. His conditions were absurd, but his reasoning carried the weight of pack law.

"Give me time," I whispered, the defiance leaving my voice. "I will think up something, but your conditions are out of line."

Zaire’s chest heaved. Anger radiated off him in suffocating waves. He looked bloated with fury, and I feared he was going to burst right there and then, destroying the room.

"I don't have time to drive back here," he snarled. "Every decision should be taken now."

For the first time in years, hot tears stung the corners of my eyes. I blinked rapidly, refusing to let them fall. I felt cornered by the tiny pup in my womb. The clinical option flashed in my mind—abort, wipe the slate clean, and get semen from a nameless donor. But this was a real life growing inside of me.

'If you think of aborting our pup, I will kill you before you go through with it,' Nyx warned in my mind. Her voice was a lethal blade scraping against my skull. She made it clear I had no escape route.

I looked at the furious Alpha sitting across from me, grasping at straws. "You have a mate you are in love with," I pushed. "Do you not think about how she'll feel about all this?"

I fought to keep my own anger from taking the reins. For a fraction of a second, genuine guilt flashed in his golden eyes. His wolf receded. Yet, the vulnerability vanished as soon as it appeared, replaced by a wall of impenetrable ice.

"Leave my fiancée out of it. The major concern is my pup in your womb, and mistake or not, I won't allow you to have him or her out of wedlock."

The weight of his presence and the impossibility of his demands were too much. I needed him out of my territory. I needed to clear my mind before I suffocated.

"I will think of something to favor both of us," I begged him, dropping my pride. "So please, give me three days."

I was the one carrying the pup. I took the blame for the sake of my own sanity, hoping a temporary surrender would buy me time. He stared at me, his jaw working as he debated my words.

Before he could issue another demand, a sharp vibration shattered the silence. His phone rang.

Zaire pulled the device from his coat pocket and checked the caller ID. He did not answer it in front of me, but the message must have been urgent. He checked the screen, his jaw clenching tight enough to make the muscles jump. It broke his intense concentration and effectively got him out of my packhouse. He stood up, his towering frame casting a long shadow.

"I will be back in three days," he warned, his voice a low rumble. "And remember, no games next time."

I forced a hollow smile onto my face. Everything about my desperate situation seemed like a game to him, but I couldn't leverage his arrogance. Arguing further just wasn't healthy for my condition.

"I don't play games," I said quietly. "And I promise to have an answer ready by then."

Without another word, without a single glance back, he turned and strode out of the underground room. I did not care to walk him out. Let him find his own way to the surface. The meeting did not end as peacefully as I had hoped, and all his visit gave me was a throbbing headache.

The heavy steel door clicked shut. I was finally alone. I dragged myself up from the sofa, my legs feeling like lead, and navigated the dim hallways back to my private quarters. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. My mind raced in a thousand different directions, each path leading to a dead end.

Once inside my bedroom, I locked the door and reached out through the pack network. I mind-linked Sloane. 'Come to my room.'

It did not take up to five minutes for her to arrive. The door swung open, and she rushed in. "How did it go?" she asked worriedly, scanning my pale face.

The stoic Luna facade I had held together for Zaire shattered. I broke down in tears. Sloane crossed the room and I hugged her tightly, burying my face in her shoulder. Between jagged breaths and fresh tears, I told her the details of everything. I told her about the ten-billion-dollar offer, the ultimatum for abortion, his demand for marriage, and the terrifying moment his wolf took over to defend his pack's heir.

Sloane’s expression hardened into dangerous fury. "I knew it," she hissed, rubbing my back. "He's taking advantage of the fact that you are a she-wolf."

She pulled back, gripping my shoulders. Her eyes burned with a calculating light. "I have a plan."

She leaned in close and whispered something directly into my ear. I listened as she laid out a strategy, piece by piece. It was risky. It directly challenged his authority while technically maneuvering around his demands. As her words sank in, the crushing desperation in my chest began to evaporate. A slow, genuine smile bloomed on my tear-stained face.

I pulled away from her, my mind racing with new, strategic hope. I did not think Alpha Zaire had gone far. He was likely just hitting the main highway back to his territory.

I walked over to my desk and pulled open the top drawer. I grabbed the leather-bound pack catalog. The details of regional Alphas and their packs were all recorded there. I flipped past the local territories until I found the crest of the Shadow Fang Pack. I scanned the page and found his direct contact line.

Typing the digits with steady fingers, I dialed his number. I pressed the phone to my ear. The sound of a powerful car engine echoed through the speaker before the line clicked open.

"Alpha Zaire," I said firmly, stripping away all the fear from my voice. "I have a solution."

However, his response took me aback.