The alpha heir

Sunlight streamed in through the open windows, soft and golden. The scent of roses wafted in from the garden, blending with the crisp, clean smell of polished wood. Luna Clara sat in her favorite chair, shuffling through some papers when she called out, her voice steady and clear.

“Isabella.”

Isabella entered, quiet as always, her hands trembling at the edge of her apron.

“Yes, Luna?”

“Please bring me a glass of juice from the kitchen. The Alpha will be joining me soon,” Clara said, gentle but leaving no space for argument.

“Yes, Luna.”

Isabella nodded and hurried away. When she returned, balancing a crystal glass of orange juice, Logan was already there. He stood near the window, every muscle taut. Opposite him, Anna — the striking daughter of the neighboring Alpha — glared, arms folded, her anger sharp as a blade.

“Logan, you can’t keep pretending,” Anna snapped. “Everyone knows I’m your mate. The bond is there — you’re just too stubborn to admit it!”

Logan’s jaw tightened. “There’s no bond, Anna. Stop.”

Clara watched from her chair, calm as ever, teacup poised, her gaze missing nothing.

“Are you staring at that filthy maid of yours?” Anna spat.

Logan’s eyes flicked to Isabella — just for an instant. But that fleeting glance was enough to send Isabella’s stomach spinning. The air seemed to shift, heavy and strange, and she felt dizzy all at once.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, turning pale.

“Isabella?” Clara frowned.

Isabella didn’t reply. She ran for the washroom, and the sound of retching echoed down the hall.

Clara set her cup aside, alarmed. “Is she ill?”

Logan was already moving. “She’s looked pale since this morning,” he muttered.

Anna rolled her eyes, all theatrics. “Oh, please. She’s just faking to get attention.”

“Enough, Anna,” Clara interrupted, her voice suddenly sharp. “You may go.”

Anna’s mouth dropped open, but Luna’s tone brooked no argument. Anna glared, then stormed out. “This isn’t over, Logan,” she threw over her shoulder.

Logan didn’t even glance at her. He hurried down the hall and found Isabella hunched over the basin, shaking. He knelt beside her, unsure if he should touch her or not.

“Easy,” he said, his voice low. “Just breathe.”

Isabella wiped her mouth, eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry, Alpha. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Clara appeared in the doorway, worry etched on her face. “You’ve been sick for days?”

“No, Luna,” Isabella answered, weakly. “Just today.”

Clara looked at her son, then back at Isabella. “The doctor will see you. You’re far too pale, child.”

Isabella tried to protest, but Luna’s word was law.

An hour later, Doctor Henley arrived. He was old, sharp-eyed, and famous for keeping secrets. Clara sat by Isabella’s bed while he examined her. Logan stood by the window, arms folded tightly, doing a poor job of hiding his nerves.

After a while, Doctor Henley stepped back, looking unsettled. He cleared his throat.

“Well?” Clara asked, her voice gentle but urgent. “What is it?”

The doctor hesitated. “Luna… Alpha… she’s pregnant.”

The room seemed to go still.

Isabella stared, certain she’d misheard. “W-what?”

Clara jumped to her feet. “That’s impossible. She’s only been here a few weeks!” Her eyes narrowed, disbelief overtaking her. “Girl… who did this to you?”

Isabella’s lips trembled. “No one, Luna. I—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Clara snapped. “You were found in my son’s bed. Did you—?”

“Mother,” Logan interrupted, his voice sharp and barely steady.

Clara turned to him, searching his face. “Logan, you’re not saying—”

“I’m the one who took her virginity,” he said, flat and sure.

The doctor froze. Clara clutched her chest, shocked. Tears streamed down Isabella’s cheeks.

“What are you telling me?” Clara whispered. “Logan, that can’t be. You couldn’t…” She stopped, memory striking her — the curse, the years of silence, the Moon Goddess’s judgment.

Logan’s eyes turned distant, a hint of silver showing. “She woke my wolf,” he said quietly. “And now this.”

Doctor Henley swallowed hard. “So… the curse is broken?”

No one answered.

Clara slumped into her chair, trembling. Her thoughts raced. The wolfless maid — the girl she’d pitied — now carried the Alpha’s heir.

Inside, Logan’s wolf growled, proud and satisfied. She’s ours. The heir grows within her.

Logan looked at Isabella — frightened, delicate, and somehow shining in the afternoon light.

For the first time, he couldn’t deny it. Whatever fate had bound them, it was real.

Not a curse. Not anymore.