Alpha Nathan's POV.

After ten years alone following the werewolf-vampire war, I was reluctantly celebrating my birthday in my bedroom. The early morning quiet was broken when Alpha Kwan, still my closest friend despite our past, burst into my room without warning.

He walked straight to my bed and shook me until I woke up with a gasp.

"What the hell?" I said groggily, annoyed by this sudden interruption during my rare peaceful sleep.

Sleep had become precious over the years. My nights were often disturbed by restless dreams and memories I couldn't escape no matter how tired I was.

I rubbed my face hard to clear the fog of sleep and squinted at Kwan's unusually happy expression with growing suspicion.

"Damn it, Kwan! Is it still early? Don't tell me there's another supernatural crisis or border dispute we need to handle?"

The thought of facing another conflict made my shoulders tense with exhaustion—the past ten years had brought enough battles to last several lifetimes.

Kwan responded with a mischievous smile that immediately warned me something was up—I knew that look well from our younger days, and it usually meant trouble for me.

"Yes, there might be a battle ahead, but not until tonight!" he announced mysteriously.

He made himself comfortable on the edge of my bed as if he owned the place. His confident invasion of my personal space—a boundary most people had learned to respect given how alone I preferred to be these days—only made me more suspicious about whatever scheme he was planning.

I sat up against the headboard and reached for a shirt to cover my bare chest.

"What's going on, Kwan?" I demanded impatiently, my voice still rough from sleep.

"Why are you in my bedroom at—" I paused to check my watch on the nightstand, my irritation growing when I saw the time.

"It's too early! Only 8 AM! On my day off, no less!" I growled, my Alpha voice accidentally slipping into the complaint.

Kwan wasn't bothered at all by my obvious annoyance. He settled more comfortably on the couch near my bed with the smug look of someone about to deliver big news.

"Because tonight isn't just your thirty-second birthday celebration, old man," he announced dramatically, pausing for effect before dropping his bombshell.

"It's also going to be your wedding night! Surprise!"

He beamed at me as though expecting thanks for this announcement, seemingly oblivious to my darkening expression and the low growl building in my chest.

"My what?" I sputtered, sure I must have misheard him through my sleepy haze.

"My wedding? Are you here to make jokes at this ungodly hour? Because if so, I'd prefer you save the comedy routine for a more reasonable time—preferably after noon and several cups of coffee."

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood to my full height, partly to intimidate him into admitting this was some ridiculous prank, and partly because I knew going back to sleep was now impossible given the adrenaline spike his announcement had triggered.

Kwan shook his head firmly, his expression becoming more serious as he snapped his fingers and gestured for me to join him on the couch.

"No jokes, no pranks, no exaggeration. I'm talking absolutely seriously, Nathan," he insisted, patting the cushion beside him insistently.

Once I reluctantly sat down, he pulled a thick catalog from his jacket pocket and handed it to me ceremoniously.

"Here—pick your future Luna right now. You can't continue living like a lonely priest forever! The Pack needs stability, continuity, heirs. Ten years of solitude is more than enough mourning period for anyone."

I stared at the glossy catalog in disbelief, recognizing it as one of the supernatural matchmaking services that had become popular among high-ranking Pack members who were too busy with responsibilities to court potential mates through traditional methods.

The pages contained photographs and brief biographies of eligible female werewolves from respected bloodlines, all seeking advantageous matches with powerful Alphas.

"You can't be serious," I muttered, though the determined look on Kwan's face told me he was completely committed to this plan.

Without even opening the catalog, I pushed it firmly away across the coffee table, my rejection immediate and absolute.

"No," I stated flatly, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.

"Absolutely not. This isn't the medieval era—I'm not selecting a life partner from a mail-order catalog just because you've decided it's time I got mated."

Kwan's eyebrows shot up in a mixture of frustration and something that looked suspiciously like concern, perhaps even sadness.

"Then it means you're still in love with Isabella after all this time," he said quietly, the observation hitting me like a physical blow to my chest.

"You know that Isabella is my Luna now—my mate, the mother of my children. We've built a life together these past ten years."

His words weren't accusatory but carried a weight of gentle compassion mixed with unmistakable warning.

Though never explicitly stated between us, we both understood the unspoken truth—that his trust in me depended on my continued respect for the boundaries of his marriage, regardless of my personal feelings.

The mention of Isabella's name sent a familiar ache through my chest—a pain that had dulled over the years but never completely disappeared.

Despite a decade of deliberately avoiding her presence, of carefully scheduling my visits to Kwan's territory when she would be elsewhere, her memory remained etched in my mind with painful clarity.

The sound of her laughter, the particular shade of blue in her eyes, the way she would tilt her head slightly when considering a complex problem—these details refused to fade despite my best efforts to focus on Pack responsibilities to the exclusion of all else.

But admitting this lingering attachment aloud, especially to Kwan, was unthinkable. It would only create unnecessary tension in our friendship and alliance, which remained crucial to both our Packs' stability.

I reached for the catalog with exaggerated haste, desperate to change the direction of this dangerous conversation.

"Don't be an idiot," I scoffed, pretending a casualness I was far from feeling.

"Of course I'm not still in love with Isabella. I just think it's a terrible idea to choose a luna through pictures and brief descriptions. Marriage should involve at least some personal connection, some compatibility beyond physical appearance."

Relief visibly washed over Kwan's features at my apparent denial, and he stood up with renewed energy and determination.

"Then hurry up and make a selection," he insisted, tapping the catalog impatiently.

"This is the only practical option given your schedule and responsibilities. You've wasted ten years already, Nathan. Don't you want to have children? To secure your Pack's future with proper heirs?"

He had skillfully targeted my most vulnerable point—my deeply held desire for family and legacy, something I had reluctantly set aside in the aftermath of losing Isabella.

Being the last of my direct bloodline, I had always envisioned having several children to continue our Pack's leadership and preserve our unique werewolf lineage.

The Pack elders reminded me of this responsibility with increasing frequency as the years passed without any sign of me taking a mate.

"The Alpha bloodline must continue," they would say during council meetings, their concerned glances communicating their growing anxiety about succession planning.

With a frustrated sigh that showed my surrender more effectively than words, I began flipping through the catalog pages, scanning the photos and descriptions with minimal interest.

The women were all objectively beautiful, well-educated, and from respected Pack lineages—any would make a suitable Luna by traditional standards.

"They all look acceptable," I admitted grudgingly, though none sparked even the slightest flicker of genuine interest in my heart.

After several minutes of half-hearted examination, I stood abruptly and handed the catalog back to Kwan with an air of resignation.

"Just pick one for me," I instructed, suddenly eager to end this uncomfortable conversation and return to the solitude I had grown accustomed to.

"I want her to be blonde, sexy, curvy, and a virgin she-wolf. Not short in stature. And preferably with green or blue eyes."