All Chapters of PREGNANT FOR THE ALPHA I NEVER MET : Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

173 Chapters

Satiated

CALLIE’S POVThe heavy oak door of Renan’s private residence had barely clicked shut behind us before the quiet of the house was completely shattered. We had spent weeks operating at the absolute limit of our endurance—running border patrols, containing the fallout of the vault strike, and shielding Millie through the wreckage of Martha’s death. The tension inside us had coiled into something volatile, a hot, desperate hunger that couldn't survive another second of domestic restraint.Renan didn't say a word. He whirled around in the dim hallway, his large, calloused hands slamming against the wood on either side of my head as he pinned me against the door. His eyes were completely dark, the bright gold of his beta wolf bleeding heavily through his pupils, tracking the frantic pulse jumping at the base of my throat."No more pack business tonight," he growled, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated straight through my bones. "No more security briefs. No more schedules.""No mor

The ancient bloodline

MILLIE’S POVThe morning sun filtered through the massive arched windows of the packhouse, casting long, golden boxes of light across the mahogany dining table. It was the first time in weeks that the air felt truly light. The breakfast spread was massive, the sweet scent of maple syrup and fresh coffee mingling with the comforting, heavy pine aroma of the territory.But the peace shattered the moment my grandfather set his teacup down with a soft, definitive click against the saucer."Elena and the rest of us have finalized the logistics," Vicente announced, his voice smooth and steady as he looked around the table. "Our business with the Council is concluded, the security arrays are fully operational, and the traitors are locked in the dark. We will be returning home to Spain in three days."The fork in my hand clattered against my plate. Beside me, Leo’s jaw dropped, his little eyes instantly filling with thick, heavy tears as he abandoned his pancakes."No! Great-grandpa, you can'

The execution of the patriarch

ROY’S POVThe silver-lined walls of the subterranean dungeon did not just hold a prisoner; they choked the very essence of the wolf. The air down here was thick with the suffocating, metallic tang of the bars, a constant, low-grade burn that buzzed against my skin and kept my senses entirely dulled.Because of the high-security protocol ordered by the Council, Pius and I had been placed in adjacent holding cells, separated only by a thick grid of reinforced iron bars.For hours, my father had done nothing but pace the length of his small concrete floor, his breathing a jagged, dangerous hiss. He hadn't spoken a single word since the sentinels dragged us down into the dark. But as the distant echo of the upper fortress doors signaled the changing of the guard shift, the silence cracked."You monumental fool," Pius spat, his voice dropping into a low, venomous register that made the hairs on my arms stand up. He stopped his pacing, his hands gripping the iron grid separating our cells

The weight of twenty-one years

VICENTE’S POVThe corridors of the high-security facility holding the human conspirators were cold, smelling of clinical paint, ancient stone, and the heavy, damp rot of old secrets. There were only two days left before my companions and I were scheduled to board our transport back to Spain.The territorial matters regarding the pack's direct threats had already been dealt with and filed away into the historical ledger. The perimeter was safe, the crown on my granddaughter's head was secure, and yet, there was still one loose thread in the dark that required my personal touch. A human debt that needed a final reckoning.I walked down the final corridor, the heavy soles of my leather shoes tapping a slow cadence against the concrete until I reached the specialized holding unit at the very back of the facility.Inside sat Raphael.He didn't look like the conniving, dangerous player who had spent decades pulling strings in the shadows, balancing corporate accounts and manipulating lives.

The dawn of reckoning

BRAHAM’S POVThe sky over our pack did not break with a golden sunrise; it bled a dull, ash-gray light through the heavy mountain mist. The morning was freezing, the air thick with the scent of damp pine, wet earth, and the undeniable, suffocating odor of localized silver.In the center of the executive fortress courtyard, the high scaffold had been erected. It was not a grand display for the public; the North American Alpha and elders Council had decreed that the execution of a high-ranking lineage must be executed cleanly, in the presence of the pack executive, the Council representatives, and their blood that remained.Before we had even left the warmth of the packhouse, Millie had looked up at me with pale, trembling lips, her voice a desperate whisper as she told me she couldn't do this. She couldn't stand there and watch them take a human life, no matter how much misery Roy had caused us. But the law of the Alpha Council was unyielding. As the true Luna, her presence was requir

The shield of the patriarch

VICENTE’S POVThe private tarmac on the secure executive edge of the territory was swept by a bitter, howling mountain wind. The massive, sleek transport jet sat idling, its twin engines throwing a low, rumbling vibration across the asphalt. This was the moment of departure. The bags were loaded, the flight path over the Atlantic was cleared, and the ancient soil of Spain was calling my wolf home.But I did not stand on this tarmac as a weary old man retreating from a foreign conflict. I stood here as a king who had successfully guarded his perimeter.A few paces behind me, flanked by Elena and two of my heaviest Silverpine Ridge warriors, stood Sabrina.She was bound in heavy, custom-forged silver containment cuffs that ran from her wrists to her ankles, keeping her completely bound from doing anything. Her orange prison jumpsuit was tattered, and her face was a frozen, dead mask of unyielding malice.It had been an ugly, bureaucratic war to pull her from that American jail. The Unit

The cold earth

MILLIE’S POVThe cemetery was swallowed by a dense, unyielding gray fog that rolled off the mountains, clinging to the black iron gates and the pristine marble tombstones. We had tried to keep the arrangements as secretive as humanly possible, routing the funeral through a private, heavily guarded sector of the city’s ancestral burial grounds.But a story this tragic, stained with the blood of corporate coups and fallen houses, could not be completely hidden from the vultures.Past the line of elite sentinels Brahms brought to guard the perimeter hedge, the human media and paparazzi were packed together like a wall of insects. The distant, rhythmic click-click-click of their high-powered long lenses and the muffled shout of reporters trying to catch a glimpse of the mourning family echoed faintly over the grass. They were blocked from entering, but their presence felt like a suffocating layer of dirt over an already miserable morning.Inside the private circle, the air was thick with

The sentence of eternity

VICENTE’S POVThe air in the high peaks of the Silverpine Ridge territory was different from the heavy, humid atmosphere of North America. It was thin, piercingly cold, and carried the ancient, unyielding scent of stone, pine, and centuries of apex history.The central amphitheater of the pack heartland was completely packed. Hundreds of wolves had gathered under the gray Spanish sky, standing shoulder-to-shoulder on the tiered stone steps that had seen the rise and fall of dynasties. The entire territory had demanded to see the woman who had dared to conspire against the royal bloodline—the woman whose greed had cost them their beloved princess twenty-one years ago.In the center of the sacred stone circle, Sabrina was pushed to her knees.The heavy silver-lined chains around her wrists and ankles rattled violently against the rock. Her orange jumpsuit was covered in dust from the long journey from the airport at Barcelona, and her face was a tight, pale mask of absolute, unyielding

The intuition of a mother

MILLIE’S POVThe morning sun was just beginning to peek through the kitchen windows of the private executive suite, casting a soft, golden warmth over the marble countertops. The packhouse was completely quiet. The shadow of the Pius Hunter and his family was gone, Grandpa Vicente was officially back to Spain, and the territory was finally breathing a sigh of absolute relief.I was standing by the stove, pouring myself a fresh cup of herbal tea, when Callie walked into the kitchen.The moment she stepped across the threshold, my wolf stirred softly, but it was my own human intuition—the deeply ingrained memories of my own body—that made me pause. Callie looked exhausted. Her skin was unusually pale, and as she walked toward the refrigerator, her footsteps lacked their usual light, energetic bounce."Morning," she mumbled, reaching for the handle of the fridge. But the moment the door swung open, exposing the scent of yesterday’s roasted meat and leftover pack breakfast, Callie froze.

A celebration of light

MILLIE’S POV We were gathered in the private living room, the massive floor-to-ceiling glass windows showing a perfectly clear, peaceful evening sky over the North American territory. The fireplace crackled softly in the corner, throwing a warm, golden glow across the room, but the true warmth came from the easy laughter bouncing off the timber walls. We had spent the last hour talking about Grandpa Vicente. The room was full of smiles as we shared stories of his sharp, unyielding wit and his commanding presence. Even though his jet had only departed for Spain a short while ago, we were all openly admitting how much we already missed the old alpha. He had been the ultimate shield for this family, and his absence left a noticeable stillness in the house. "I still can't believe how he completely handled those federal marshals," Gabriel chuckled from his armchair, shaking his head in pure admiration. "The man didn't even blink." "He's a king for a reason," Braham responded, his de

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