LE CONTRAT DU MILLIARDAIRE MUET

I sat in the waiting room of the Silver Ridge Pack clinic, hands resting on my eight-month pregnant belly.

Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. A poster on the wall showed a happy she-wolf holding a newborn pup under a full moon.

Today was supposed to be routine, the final big ultrasound before the birth. Every appointment before this had ended the same way: "Everything looks perfect, Luna Ava."

My phone vibrated on the vinyl seat next to me.

Rowan: Don't wait for me anymore. Something came up. Take care of yourself.

Seven words. No apology. No real explanation beyond "something." No heart emoji he used to add to every message during our first two years together. I stared at the screen until my vision blurred.

Rowan Thorne. Alpha of Silver Ridge. My husband. My fated mate.

Three years ago, he carried me over the threshold of our house, whispering promises of forever while moonlight spilled across the floor. He left the city behind with me, traded skyscrapers for forest trails. For a while, the fairy tale felt real.

Then Clara Voss came back.

Clara was his first love, the Beta’s only daughter who had disappeared five years ago without explanation. She returned years later, looking thin and pale, claiming she had only one year to live. And ever since then, everything changed.

Rowan had been all over her.

Pack meetings were cut short if Clara needed tea. Dinners were canceled if she felt a headache coming. I spent nights alone in our too-large bed while he sat at her bedside.

I understood compassion. I really did. Who wouldn’t want to ease someone’s final days?

But one year stretched into two.

The “final days” never came.

And my husband drifted further away with every passing month.

"Luna Ava?" The nurse's gentle voice pulled me back.

I pushed myself up slowly, one hand under my belly, the other on the armrest and followed her down the hallway. Dr. Harlan greeted me with his usual warm smile. He was one of the few pack members who still looked at me with genuine kindness instead of thinly veiled pity.

Routine checks first: blood pressure, weight, fundal height. Then the ultrasound.

I lay back, cold gel on my skin, and watched the monitor. There it was, the rapid, strong heartbeat I had grown addicted to hearing. Tiny fists opening and closing. Legs kicking like a swimmer doing laps.

Dr. Harlan's face changed.

"Luna Ava," he said quietly, "one of the maternal serum markers is abnormal. It's very rare in werewolf pregnancies, especially with a human mother carrying an Alpha heir, but it could indicate developmental concerns for the pup."

My smile froze. "What kind of concerns?"

"We don't know yet. We'll need an amniocentesis and possibly genetic sequencing. But if the results are severe..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "The Alpha will need to be involved in the decision, whether to continue the pregnancy. Medically, it would be safer for you and the pack if—"

"No." The word escaped before I could stop it. "The baby has been perfect on every scan. I feel stronger than ever since I got pregnant, this has to be a mistake."

"I hope so too," he said softly. "When will the Alpha arrive? He really should hear this."

A bitter laugh bubbled up. "He's not coming today."

Dr. Harlan didn't press. He printed the report, folded it carefully, and placed it in my hands like it was fragile glass. "Rest. Come back in three days for the next test. And please... try not to carry this alone."

I walked out of the clinic in a fog, report clutched against my chest. The autumn air smelled of damp leaves and coming rain. I needed to find Rowan. I needed him to look me in the eye and promise we would face whatever this was together.

And then, because the Moon Goddess apparently had a cruel sense of humor, I saw him across the street, moving slowly down the sidewalk. One arm wrapped around Clara's waist as she leaned into his side.

Her laughter floated over the quiet afternoon.

They hadn't noticed me yet.

Clara spotted me first. Her smile widened, bright and brittle. "Ava! You're already finished? I'm so sorry we couldn't come with you. Rowan got held up helping me with... you know." She touched her temple delicately.

Rowan's gaze flicked to me, then slid away almost immediately. "How did it go?"

"Fine," I lied. I couldn't say it here not in the middle of the street with her perfume still clinging to his shirt.

Clara squeezed his arm. "Oh, and Ava, you have to come to my birthday dinner tonight! Please? It would mean everything to me."

Before I could reply, Rowan spoke first. "You should come. It'll be good for you to get out."

Clara's eyes instantly shimmered with tears. "If you don't want to, I understand. I know it's hard seeing Rowan with me so much... especially after last month when he stayed over. Nothing happened, I promise. He just held me while I cried."

Last month, he had told me it was late-night border patrol.

Rowan pulled me a few steps away, voice low. "Don't make a scene, Ava. She's fragile. Just say you'll come. Stress could trigger another episode."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shove the report into his chest and demand to know when our child became less important than Clara's tears.

But the street was full of pack members now. So I smiled, brittle and thin, and said I would try.

They led me to the car. I sat in the back seat like an afterthought while Rowan and Clara reminisced about childhood runs through the forest, first shifts under the same moon, jokes I would never understand.