Derek's POV
The tension in the dining room was suffocating as I shifted in my chair, watching my father drum his fingers against the mahogany table. Despite passing the Alpha title to me years ago, his presence still commanded respect throughout our pack. His position on the council's leadership committee ensured his voice carried weight in every decision I made.
"So when exactly will you two bless us with an heir?" His question hung in the air like a challenge.
My stepmother barely glanced up from her phone, her disinterest evident in every dismissive scroll through her screen.
"Are you seriously asking about heirs when our pack's children are dying?" I snapped back, hoping to deflect his inquiry before I'd have to admit we'd taken another pregnancy test that morning. Another crushing negative result that left us both hollow inside.
Serena sat rigid beside me, pushing food around her plate without taking a single bite. The disappointment from this morning had stolen her appetite completely. As the daughter of our royal beta, expectations had been sky-high when we announced our union. Everyone assumed our offspring would possess unprecedented power, combining her prestigious bloodline with my Alpha genetics. Instead, we faced nothing but empty promises and shattered hopes.
My father cleared his throat, mercifully changing direction. "Speaking of our crisis, there's a research specialist arriving today from human territory."
Relief washed over me. "Finally. About time they acknowledged our requests."
The arrogance of humans never ceased to amaze me. Ever since their technological advances, they'd acted superior to our kind, treating us like we should be grateful for any scraps of attention they threw our way.
Everything irritated me lately. The mounting deaths among our young ones kept me awake at night, and Serena's constant pressure about having children made every conversation feel like walking through a minefield.
She wanted a baby desperately, completely ignoring the danger our current situation posed. The thought of bringing a child into this crisis seemed reckless, but she refused to listen to reason.
"Make sure this woman receives our finest hospitality," my father continued. "She's provided specific requirements that must be followed exactly. Inform your closest allies as well. I want her completely satisfied with her treatment here, motivated to find our cure quickly. This woman has an extraordinary reputation. Everyone in human society speaks of her abilities, and from what I've heard, the praise isn't exaggerated."
His obsession with this mysterious researcher bordered on fanatical.
Information about her remained frustratingly limited. People simply referred to her as 'Miss MS' without providing any substantial details about her background or methods.
Communication between human and werewolf territories had ceased years ago. Their media no longer reached our communities, and printed materials stopped arriving entirely. Perhaps this collaboration would finally reestablish those connections and remind them of our superior position in the natural hierarchy.
"We'll extract maximum benefit from this woman while making her believe we'll maintain pleasant relations afterward," I muttered, earning an approving nod from my father.
His satisfaction told me I was speaking his preferred language of calculated manipulation. Years of his guidance had molded me into the Alpha I'd become. Weakness disgusted him, and he'd ensured I shared that sentiment.
After breakfast, I avoided returning to my room where Serena would undoubtedly launch into another complaint session. More pressing matters demanded my attention. Meeting this celebrated researcher would reveal whether she truly possessed the skills everyone claimed or if humans had simply manufactured hype to make us grovel for their assistance.
I changed into my best black suit and headed toward the docks where her vessel would arrive. The morning had started with brilliant sunshine, but clouds were gathering ominously overhead. An strange restlessness had plagued me all day, though I couldn't identify its source.
This meeting carried enormous significance for our pack's survival, so I straightened my shoulders as a boat approached the dock.
The vessel's door opened first to reveal her personal security team, who began unloading an impressive amount of luggage. Among the practical cases were smaller, colorful bags in soft pink, purple, and blue that seemed oddly cheerful.
I frowned as Mr. Foster, Serena's father and my royal beta, stepped closer to brief me.
"She's a mother of three children," he whispered, and I acknowledged this information with a slight nod.
Her list of demands had been extensive and unusual. She refused to follow traditional werewolf protocols, though she promised not to commit any actual crimes. No one could question her methods or decisions. If she chose to leave at any moment, no one could prevent her departure. Most importantly, she required a separate residence with her own security detail and specifically requested no pack warriors in her vicinity.
Her distrust of werewolves struck me as ironic considering our superior strength and protective capabilities. Still, I decided not to dwell on her paranoia. Her arrogant demands suggested she viewed herself as exceptionally important. I looked forward to utilizing her expertise while teaching her some humility about her actual place in our world.
Once her belongings were secured, she finally emerged wearing an elegant white dress that ended just above her knees, paired with striking black stilettos. Her curves immediately commanded attention, but when I looked at her face, disbelief crashed over me like a tsunami.
Rich chocolate hair curled softly at the ends, dancing in the harbor breeze. Perfectly shaped eyebrows framed stunning green eyes bordered by impossibly long lashes. Her full lips wore bold red lipstick, and she carried an expensive designer purse. Everything about her radiated confidence and sophistication.
She reminded me of someone from my past, yet something fundamental had changed. The way she looked at me now held no recognition, no warmth from shared memories.
"Bella?" Her name escaped my lips as my chest tightened with shock.
Then three small figures appeared behind her, dressed in designer clothing that could have graced magazine covers. These weren't just any children.
Memories flooded back as one devastating question consumed my thoughts: Were these beautiful children mine?