Chapter 81 Chapter 81
Zane
I found myself in the pack library at midnight, surrounded by books I’d single-handedly picked out—mainly to avoid questions from Ezra.
‘Pregnancy and the Wolf: A Comprehensive Guide. Maternal Health in Shifter Populations. The First Year: What to Expect When Expecting a Pup.‘
The titles alone made me feel ridiculous like some anxious first-time father instead of an Alpha securing his lineage.
But I opened the first one anyway, scanning through chapters on fetal development and nutritional requirements. According to the book, the pup was barely the size of a lentil at six weeks. It had no heartbeat yet that could be detected outside the womb. Just cells dividing and organizing into something that would eventually become a person.
My heir.
I tried the word out silently. My child.
Neither felt real yet.
I flipped to a chapter on common complications, and my jaw tightened with each paragraph. Miscarriage. Developmental abnormalities. Maternal health risks. So many ways this could fail and crush my hopes. So many threats to something so impossibly small, why did life work that way?
“Alpha?”
I looked up sharply to find Healer Iris standing in the doorway, with a basket of herbs in her arms. I hadn’t heard her approach as I was too absorbed in cataloging potential disasters.
“I didn’t expect anyone else to be awake,” she said, her voice gentle.
“I was researching.” I gestured at the books spread across the table, lowering my voice even though we were alone. “For the pregnancy.”
She moved closer, setting down her basket and glancing at the titles. Something that might have been approval crossed her face.
“Most Alphas don’t bother,” she said. “They leave it all to the healers and the mother.”
“I guess I’m not most Alphas.” I shrugged. “I have also wanted an heir for the longest time.”
“No. You’re not.” She pulled out a chair without asking permission and sat down. “Do you have questions? Things the books don’t answer?”
I had a hundred questions. Maybe more.
“The morning sickness,” I began. “How long does it typically last?”
“It varies.” Iris settled into her seat like she had all the time in the world. “Some wolves only have it for a few weeks. Others suffer the entire pregnancy.” She paused, watching my reaction. “Luna Tiana seems relatively normal so far.”
I nodded, filing that information away in the growing mental catalog of things I needed to monitor.
“And the fetus.” I forced myself to use the clinical term instead of child or pup. “When can we know if it’s healthy? And if everything is developing correctly?”
“I can perform a thorough examination at twelve weeks. Before that, it’s mostly waiting and watching for warning signs.”
“She’s strong, Alpha. And young. The odds are in her favor.”
“What else should I know?”
Iris considered for a moment, her eyes assessing me in a way that made me want to shift in my seat.
“Keep her stress low,” she said finally. “Make sure she’s eating even when she doesn’t want to, frequently. Watch for signs of excessive fatigue or pain beyond normal pregnancy discomfort. And…” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Be patient. Pregnancy is hard on the body and the mind. She’ll need support.”
Support. Not something I was particularly skilled at providing.
“I gave you a list,” Iris continued. “Did you review it?”
“Yes.” I’d memorized it, actually. Every food to avoid and the supplements to take. Including the signs that required immediate attention. I could recite it word for word if pressed.
“Good.” She stood, collecting her basket. “The Luna is fortunate. Most mates don’t educate themselves this thoroughly.”
I didn’t correct her assumption that I was doing this out of mate-like devotion. After she left, I returned to the books, reading until my eyes burned and the words blurred together.
When I finally returned to my chambers, dawn was breaking through the windows, painting everything in shades of gray and gold.
I hadn’t slept and somehow, I did not feel tired.
I was mostly restless with the terrifying lack of control over what came next.
Over the next few days, I made some intentional changes.
I had maintenance install better cushions on the chairs in Tiana’s chambers—the books said pregnant wolves experienced back pain and needed extra support. I adjusted the temperature controls so her rooms stayed warmer.
I reviewed her schedule with a critical eye and crossed out half of it, doing everything to ensure the well-being of my heir.
When sleep would not come at night, I caught myself thinking about the future.
Teaching my pup to shift for the first time. The way their small bones would crack and reform and the confusion and wonder of discovering their wolf for the first time. It felt good to envision being there to guide them through the pain and show them it was temporary because the power waiting on the other side was worth it.
I also had flashes of taking my heir on their first hunt. Training them to lead and make the hard decisions. The fantasies came unbidden, detailed and vivid in a way that should have alarmed me.
Because most of them even as I hate to mention it included her.
Not just me teaching and raising. But both of us. Tiana showing our child kindness and patience while I taught strength and strategy. A partnership in parenting that the contract explicitly forbade.
The terms of our contract were clear. Tiana would leave. The child would stay with me.
I’d be raising them alone. Just as I’d planned and it made sense that way.
So why did my mind keep constructing these impossible futures where she stayed?
I shoved the thoughts away every time they surfaced, but they kept coming back like persistent wolves circling prey.
“You’re preparing to be a father.”
Ezra’s voice cut through my concentration. I looked up sharply from the requisition forms I had been reviewing, my pen stilling mid-signature.
“What did you say?”
“The schedule and every other change you’ve made. ” He leaned against the desk, his arms crossed. “I’ve never seen you commit this much energy to anything that wasn’t a direct pack security threat.”
I set down my pen. “I’ve always wanted an heir. Should I not prepare adequately?”
“You should. I do admire it, actually.” His tone carried some edge I couldn’t quite identify. “It’s just rare to see you this… invested.”
“Invested in securing the pack’s future. Yes.” I kept my voice neutral. “That’s my responsibility.”
“Right.” Ezra studied me for a long moment. “Can I sit?”
The request surprised me—he usually just took liberties.
“Sure.”
He moved around the desk and settled into the chair across from me. I waited, tension building in my shoulders.
“Alpha,” he said finally. “Your relationship with the Luna, is temporary.”
My hands flattened on the desk. “I’m aware.”
“I know you are. But…” He hesitated, which was unlike him. “It might be too early to raise this. But I’m wondering if you’ve truly thought through the logistics of raising a pup alone. It’s not easy being an only parent.”
“Yes, I have thought it through,” I said flatly. “Why wouldn’t I be able to?”
“I didn’t say you wouldn’t be able to.” His voice gentled. “You’ll be an excellent father. That’s not the question.”
“Then what is?”
“Have you thought about how she would feel?”
“No mother wants to walk away from their child. The contract might say she has to, but that doesn’t make it easy. Or right.”
My jaw tightened. “The contract was clear from the beginning. She knew the terms.”
“Knowing terms intellectually and living them emotionally are very different things.” Ezra leaned forward slightly. “She’s carrying your child right now. For nine months, that pup will be part of her. And then for two years, she’ll raise them. Love them. Bond with them.”
“And then she’ll leave. As agreed.” I added.
“Will she?” His eyes held mine. “Or will you have to enforce that separation? Force her to walk away from a child she’s bonded with? And let’s not forget that she only got into this because she had no choice, letting go would be another decision she would have to make against her will.”
The image his words painted made my chest twist uncomfortably.
“That’s not my concern,” I said, but the words felt hollow.
“Isn’t it?”
“The contract stands,” I said finally. “Those are the terms.”
“The contract can be renegotiated.”
“She won’t want to stay.” I countered. “And this conversation is over,” I added, picking up my pen. “Was there actual pack business you needed to discuss?”
Ezra stood slowly. “No, Alpha. I just thought you should think about it.”
“Thank you, and I do not need to.”