The Surrogate Bride

Revan

“You know you can’t continue like this.”

Peter Karinton’s deep baritone hammered inside my skull like a jackhammer. I swallowed hard, my throat slick and dry at the same time, fighting to keep my head from drooping forward. I straightened my shoulders and forced myself to sit up. Thank God it was Sunday and I didn’t have to wear a tie.

Whiskey and vodka together.

Never again, I told myself.

The thought immediately brought another wave of nausea.

The library at Blank Manor was full of the seven Elders of the Fell Pack—old men in suits with wrinkled hands and pocket watches tucked neatly into their waistcoats. They looked like relics from another century. I tried to keep my eyes on them, tried to appear like the Alpha they expected, but with the worst hangover of my life clawing through my skull, it was a losing battle.

Peter stood in front of them, leading the verbal assault. He had been my father’s most trusted advisor and oldest friend. Practically a second father to both Luke and me. When anyone in the pack had a problem, they went to Pete, and Pete brought it to my father—Revan Blank Senior.

Senior had been the Alpha. The Alpha. Leader of the wolves and humans who had followed the Blank family from the old country to America in the nineteenth century.

Fell Village grew around the forest they settled in. The woods sat hidden deep in the countryside, about four hours north of New York City. Over the years, our pack—around one hundred and fifty wolves—had blended into the modern world. We went to school with humans, worked their jobs, lived their lives.

But we were never really part of it.

We lived on the fringes.

And thanks to that same modern world, I enjoyed its perks—like expensive liquor and the company of beautiful women in whatever new Manhattan club happened to open that weekend.

Peter was still talking.

“You are supposed to be their first and last line of defense and leadership. You cannot simply ignore your responsibilities, and—”

The rest of his lecture blurred into noise as my headache surged again. It felt like someone had hired a construction crew to remodel my brain.

I raised a hand.

“Pete,” I muttered, pressing my fingers into my temple, “I really don’t have the energy for this right now. Just get to the point.”

His frown deepened. The lines of disappointment carved into his face sharpened. The other Elders looked the same—various degrees of disapproval wrapped in old skin.

I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Sunday mornings had always been meeting days for the pack leadership. Eight a.m., sharp. Just like when Senior ran things.

Except I doubted anyone had ever dragged him in here to scold him about drinking.

Senior had died two years ago, and the Alpha’s responsibilities fell to me. Most of them weren’t a burden.

But this part?

This ritual humiliation every Sunday morning?

I hated it.

Fell was a quiet place built on tradition. The Alpha was respected. Questioning him openly was unheard of.

Except Peter never seemed to feel bound by that rule.

“You are acting like a child,” he said flatly.

A low growl slipped out of my chest before I could stop it. The Elders straightened immediately.

Peter didn’t even blink.

“Your father wouldn’t stand for this,” he continued. “Your brother wouldn’t either.”

My jaw tightened.

“Well, Senior’s dead,” I said. “And Luke… isn’t here.”

The words felt like someone pressing a finger into an old wound.

The ache in my chest started again.

Even hungover, I was still the Alpha. This pack belonged to me by birthright. Anger flared beneath the nausea, and I forced myself to keep it under control. Losing my temper in front of the Elders would ripple through the entire pack.

I stood and crossed the room to the table by the window, pouring myself a glass of water. I drained it in one swallow. My throat still felt like sandpaper.

Turning back toward them, I squared my shoulders.

“I’m doing everything I can,” I said. “Our defenses are stronger than ever. The village has never been safer. There hasn’t been a hunter attack in three years. The hospital is fully stocked for the Full Moon. So forgive me if I don’t appreciate being summoned into my own library and treated like a teenager.”

Peter sighed.

For a moment, the anger in me softened. He’d never had children of his own, but he’d been there for Luke and me our whole lives. Sometimes more than Senior had.

But the Elders were watching.

And Blank's didn’t tolerate being challenged.

“Revan,” Peter said gently, “this pack needs a leader who isn’t spending his nights drinking and chasing women. If the pack starts to believe you cannot protect them… they will splinter. We need to talk about your next steps.”

I rubbed my temple again.

“And what exactly would those be?”

The Elders shifted uncomfortably. None of them wanted to be the first to speak.

Finally, O’Lorin cleared his throat.

“We need to discuss the Volcun.”

I almost laughed.

Of course.

Rumors had been circulating that Demetre Volkun’s pack planned to expand south. The Volkun patriarch and my father had forged a truce almost ten years ago after decades of feuding.

Breaking that peace was the last thing I intended to do.

“The Volkovs are not our concern,” I said coldly. “Until we have concrete proof of aggression, we do nothing. Anyone who acts behind my back will regret it. Are we clear?”

They nodded reluctantly.

Then Andle stood up.

“We are in agreement, Sir,” he said carefully. “It is time for you to choose a mate.”

My temper snapped.

“You’re in agreement?” I repeated. “About my sex life? Have you all been sitting around deciding who I should sleep with?”

He stammered.

“I only meant… you have been Alpha for two years now. It is time to choose someone to share your life.”

I stepped closer to him.

“You think I should take a mate,” I murmured. “And then what?”

“Produce an heir.”

Fear rolled off him in waves. I could smell it.

That made the anger worse.

My skin tingled. The familiar warning before a shift.

My muscles tightened. Bones cracked softly as I stretched.

Shifting while angry always hurt—but I couldn’t stop it.

Heat flared behind my eyes. My vision sharpened as blue faded into lupine yellow.

When I spoke again, my voice wasn’t entirely human.

“This meeting is over,” I growled. “Get out of my house.”

The Elders didn’t hesitate.

They scrambled for the door like frightened birds. Fighting an Alpha—fighting a Blank—was unthinkable.

Within seconds the room was empty.

Except for Peter.

I forced myself to breathe slowly until the shift receded. The burning under my skin faded. Thankfully I hadn’t gone all the way through with it. Otherwise the antiques—and my suit—would be destroyed.

“Are you finished?” Peter asked dryly from the couch.

I collapsed beside him and leaned my head back.

“Don’t you start too,” I groaned.

“They mean well,” he said.

“They sound like old fishwives.”

“And they’re right. You need to settle down. Have children.”

“That’s not happening, Al.”

“You’re the last Blank.”

The words hung in the air.

Luke was gone. Senior was dead.

If something happened to me, the Blank line—and the Alpha bloodline—would end.

“Can we postpone this discussion until I’m not actively dying?” I muttered.

Peter patted my shoulder and stood.

“I’ll be back this afternoon,” he said. “Then we’ll continue.”

He left.

The house fell silent.

Too silent.

I grabbed my motorcycle helmet and escaped before the ticking of the clock drove me insane.

Hours later, when I returned to the manor, Peter was waiting by the door.

“You’re late,” he said.

“You’re three hours early.”

We sat in the foyer.

After a long pause, he said quietly, “I remember when you boys ran through this house.”

Luke’s face flashed in my mind.

The last thing he’d said before he disappeared:

I’m going out for a walk.

I’d barely looked up.

Alan sighed.

“You know it’s time you had someone of your own.”

“That’s not happening.”

“If the pack thinks the Blanks can’t protect them anymore,” he said, “they’ll run straight to Ivan Volkun.”

I stared at the floor.

Finally he said, carefully, “There might be another solution.”

“What kind?”

“A surrogacy service.”

I looked up.

“You select a woman to carry your child,” he explained. “No mate required. Through the miracle of science… you get an heir.”

He snapped his fingers.

“Maybe even a spare. The Luke to the baby’s Revan.”

“Don’t call him a spare,” I muttered automatically.

But the idea…

The idea wasn’t bad.

A son.

An heir.

The Blank bloodline secured.

No marriage. No lifelong commitment.

Just a child who would inherit the Alpha gene and eventually lead the Fell pack.

“I’ll think about it,” I said finally.

Then I met Pete’s eyes.

“Get me the agency’s contact information.”