The Alpha's Surrogate

SIENNA’S POV

The fertility clinic was too loud for a place built on silence. The hum of machines, the squeak of nurses’ shoes against their perfectly polished floors, even the soft murmur of voices behind closed doors… all of it pressed against my ears until my skin prickled.

But maybe it wasn’t loud at all. Maybe I was just exaggerating… because sometimes silence feels heavier than noise.

I perched on the edge of the exam bed, the crinkly paper crunched like a bag of chips every time I moved, and honestly, it was getting on my last nerve. The AC was set to Antarctica, but my palms were still sweating buckets. My heart racing for no reason… or maybe for every reason… because I had this awful feeling I knew what the doctor was about to say.

And God, I didn’t want to hear it.

Dr. Phillip shoved his glasses higher on his nose and let out the kind of sigh that made my stomach drop before he even spoke “Sienna,” his voice was soft, but it landed like a blow, “I don’t understand. You and Nigel have been trying for three years.”

That was true… three years. That’s how long I’d been popping supplements, sipping nasty teas, tracking cycles like a maniac... and whispering prayers to a Moon Goddess who had long since turned her face from me. Hope came and went so much it started to feel like a toxic ex… always promising, and never delivering.

In just a few months from now, the pack would gather for the farewell rites of the late Alpha. And then… my fiancé, Nigel Murray, would take his father’s place, crowned Alpha of Cerulean Pack.

And me? His Luna.

Well… “almost Luna.”

Nigel swore he’d put a ring on my finger once I passed his mother’s impossible test… getting pregnant. Easy, right? Except… not. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I bled myself dry to fit into her world… scratch that, to fit into the entire pack’s world, it never seemed enough. To the pack, I wasn’t Luna material. I was still that girl… the wolfless omega who somehow slithered her way into their untouchable, perfect bloodline. Their words, not mine. And I had spent years swallowing them down, smiling when they sneered, bowing when they doubted. Yet still… nothing.

I choked on the lump in my throat, forcing the words out anyway. “We’ve done everything. The diets, the tests, the charts, the stupid P*******t hacks… name it. Every plan. Every ridiculous little trick they swore would work. And still… nothing.”

His eyes softened, and I hated it. I hated pity more than I hated failure. “I hate to tell you this Sienna, but if pregnancy doesn’t happen in the next three days, it won’t happen at all. Your ovulation cycle ends in forty-eight hours. Meaning…”

Please don't say it…

“…that means you either get a donor and schedule insemination tomorrow, or you go home and make crazy love with your fiancé.”

Crazy love. Was that supposed to be medical advice? They fell like acid rain on a wound I had tried so hard to hide. I wanted to explode, to scream the truth into his face, but instead I bit it all back and nodded like a ghost of myself.

Pregnant.

God. That word used to taste so sweet on my tongue. I would’ve smiled at the thought, imagined tiny hands... clutched my belly, whispered dreams into the night. But now… it was just a wish that seemed to grow heavier with every passing day.

Nigel's mom– Johanna –made sure I remembered it too. Her voice stayed sharp in my head: “You show signs of barrenness. Trust me, I know. I raised four strong Alphas myself.”

And stupid me... I believed her. Because what did I know about being a mother? About carrying life when I couldn’t even hold onto it?

I swallowed the ache, as Dr. Philip’s face softened into that professional mask of sympathy before he packed up his file and walked out, leaving me in the cold silence of the clinic room.

And just like that, I was alone with the echo of his words which were almost impossible to forget.

Three days. That was all I had left, though even that felt like more than I deserved.

My fingers pressed hard into my thighs, bruising my skin until it stung... maybe that was the only way to keep myself from falling apart. I was an Omega. A word that already marked me as less. A lone Omega… marked twice over. Everyone knew what that meant. And no one let me forget it, least of all Johanna.

 “If you can’t carry my son’s heir, you’re nothing but barren. Worthless and a mistake,” she would always say.

Each syllable cut deep beneath my skin. And some part of me wondered if she was right, if I truly carried a curse instead of a blessing. Maybe they were true. Maybe I was meant to want but never have.

I closed my eyes to steady myself, but that’s when I heard it.

At first, I thought I was losing it.

The sound was so faint, I figured it was my head playing tricks on me. A hum, perhaps a murmur… nothing serious.

But then...

“Mmhh…”

My eyes shot open immediately. That was not a hospital noise. Nope. Definitely not the sound of a machine beeping or a nurse shuffling papers.

I sat up straighter, straining my ears even more. Maybe I was imagining it. Maybe it was some poor patient groaning in pain. But, um… the sound came again. And let me tell you, that did not sound like pain.

Oh, God.

Was someone seriously moaning?

Here? In a fertility clinic?

I pressed my hands over my ears, but it only made it worse... like the sound was crawling under my skin. And then I heard it clearer this time. Another moan. And... hold on... was that a man’s voice?

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Who in their right mind...?” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.

I tried to laugh it off. Maybe it was a TV? Or, oh Lord, was someone actually…? No. Don’t even finish that thought, Sienna.

Still, my curiosity was already gnawing at me.

Because the way this clinic was set up, there weren’t even real walls. Just these flimsy blue curtains dividing one patient’s little “room” from another. Which meant… yep, whatever was going on was happening right next door.

I chewed my lip, staring at the thin fabric like it was my mortal enemy. Don’t do it. Don’t look. Just pretend you’re deaf and go to sleep.

But of course, my hand had other plans. My fingers caught the edge of the curtain, tugging just slightly.

“Lord, if I see something I can’t unsee…” I whispered.

The sound came again... louder this time, except... wait.

Was that… a ringtone?

You’ve got to be kidding me. Someone was watching p**n on their phone... In a fertility clinic... behind this very curtain.

I dragged a hand down my face.

“People are wild,” I muttered, before tugging the curtain back...

... and that’s where my night went from bad to what-the-actual-hell.