Alpha Nathan Pov.

"She called me in distress and now she's not answering her phone."

There was a brief pause before he responded with audible irritation, "It's none of your business. She's mine forever."

His tone contained a possessiveness that raised immediate red flags, and before I could respond with the threats already forming on my tongue, he actually hung up on me-a show of disrespect that left me momentarily speechless with shock.

"He did NOT just do that," I growled, staring at the phone in disbelief.

No one, absolutely no one, dared to hang up on the Alpha King without suffering severe consequences.

My sister's mate came from one of the royal werewolf bloodlines, a prestigious family with significant political influence within the supernatural community.

Despite his notable lineage, however, he had always maintained appropriate respect for my position as Alpha King-until now.

"This sudden defiance isn't coincidental," I realized as I grabbed my jacket and car keys.

"He's making a power play."

Over recent months, I had noticed subtle changes in his behavior during council meetings-increased challenges to my decisions, pointed references to the importance of "continuing the Alpha bloodline," thinly veiled suggestions that my extended bachelorhood represented a vulnerability for our Pack.

"He's positioning himself as the next-in-line," I concluded grimly as I strode toward the garage, mentally cataloging the weapons I might need depending on how the confrontation developed.

"He's using my lack of heirs to suggest I'm unfit to continue leading."

The political implications suddenly crystallized with perfect clarity in my mind, connecting to my sister's desperate call with disturbing logic.

"He's using Mila as leverage-knowing I'll come running to protect her, possibly creating a situation where he can challenge me directly."

As I slid behind the wheel of my SUV and roared out of the castle grounds, a single imperative thought dominated all others in my mind: I needed heirs, and I needed them immediately.

"No more delays, no more excuses," I told myself grimly as I accelerated down the winding mountain road toward my sister's estate.

"No more hoping for some magical connection with a mate I actually chose."

The political reality of my position had finally caught up with me after years of avoiding this fundamental responsibility.

Without children to continue my bloodline, ambitious wolves like my sister's mate would continue viewing my position as vulnerable, creating increasing instability within the Pack hierarchy.

"Emily may not be what I wanted," I acknowledged as trees blurred past my windows, "but she's what I have. And she's human-which means she's likely to be fertile."

The cold calculation of this assessment disturbed me, reducing a young woman to merely her reproductive capacity, but I pushed aside these ethical concerns in favor of practical necessity.

"Whether I keep her as my Luna long-term or not, I need to get her pregnant immediately," I decided with grim finality.

"I need multiple heirs to secure my position and protect my family."

With this new resolution firmly in mind, I raced up the long driveway to my sister's sprawling estate, determined to resolve the immediate crisis before returning to implement my new breeding strategy with Emily.

As I parked and exited the vehicle, my sister's household staff emerged to greet me, bowing respectfully as befitted my rank.

"Alpha," the head of security acknowledged with appropriate deference. "We weren't expecting your visit today."

Despite the calm atmosphere, I remained on high alert, scanning the property for any signs of the violence Mila had described.

"I need to verify my sister's safety," I explained tersely, already moving toward the main entrance.

"And I have questions about her security that need immediate answers."

I gestured for two of the perimeter guards to approach, fixing them with the penetrating stare that made even hardened warriors uncomfortable.

"Come over here," I commanded, watching closely for any signs of deception or nervousness that might indicate they were hiding something about Mila's situation.

Both guards approached promptly, bowing again with proper protocol that seemed genuine rather than forced.

"Yes, Alpha. Under your service," they responded in unison, standing at attention with the disciplined posture of well-trained security personnel.

I lowered my voice to ensure our conversation remained private, leaning slightly closer to study their expressions as I asked the critical question.

"I need to know if any of you have witnessed my sister's mate physically abusing her. Have you seen or heard anything that would indicate she's being harmed within this household?"

I watched carefully for micro-expressions that might betray knowledge they were to share-the slight widening of eyes, tightening around the mouth, or involuntary swallowing that often accompanied suppressed information.

To my surprise, both guards exchanged genuinely confused glances before shaking their heads with apparent sincerity.

"No, Alpha," the senior guard responded firmly. "We've observed no such behavior or heard any disturbances that would suggest physical violence."

Their apparent honesty created a troubling contradiction with Mila's desperate call, leading me to intensify my scrutiny.

"You understand the consequences of lying to your Alpha," I reminded them with deliberate gravity, my tone carrying subtle supernatural compulsion that made deception extremely difficult for Pack members under my authority.

"If you're protecting him out of misplaced loyalty or fear, I will discover it, and the punishment will be severe. I'm asking you once more-has my sister been physically harmed by her mate within these walls?"

The guards' expressions remained steadfast, showing appropriate concern at my warning but no signs of the nervous guilt that typically accompanied deception.

"Alpha, we swear on our lives and honor," the senior guard affirmed solemnly, "he has never raised a hand to her in our presence or knowledge. We are your men first and foremost-our primary duty is protecting your sister, even from her mate if necessary. We would report any such behavior immediately, regardless of consequences."

Their conviction seemed genuine, creating a confusing picture that I needed to clarify immediately.

"Very well," I acknowledged, patting their shoulders in a gesture that indicated I accepted their testimony for now.

"Continue your duties while I speak with my sister."

Moving past them toward the main entrance, I entered the impressive foyer of my sister's home, calling out with deliberate casualness to mask my concerns.

"Mila! Sweetheart, I'm here!"

My enhanced hearing detected rapid movement from the upper floor-footsteps rushing down the hallway, followed by the sound of someone practically flying down the stairs.

Within moments, Mila appeared, launching herself into my arms with dramatic intensity, her face buried against my chest as sobs shook her slender frame.

"Please take me home," she pleaded between tears, her fingers clutching desperately at my jacket.

"He's a monster! I hate him! I can't stay here another day!"

Something about her performance struck a discordant note-the tears seemed genuine, but the specific cadence of her voice carried an undertone I recognized from our childhood when she would exaggerate injuries or slights to gain attention or sympathy.