Birth of the Heir
Chapter Four – Birth of the Heir
Winter came early in the mountains.
Snow crowned the peaks and cold winds rushed down the valleys, rattling the stone halls of the Mountain Pack fortress. Alicia stood by a hearth one evening, wrapped in thick furs gifted by the pack women. Her swollen belly strained against the fabric of her gown, the child restless within her.
The fire’s warmth eased her aching back, but could not silence the unease in her heart. Every day, she expected Brooke to change his mind—to decide she was too much of a burden, a shameful reminder of his rivals in the Moon Pack. Yet he never did.
Instead, Brooke offered her shelter. Food. Guards at her door. Respect she had never known.
And something else. Something quieter, harder to admit: companionship.
At times, she caught his gaze lingering on her—not with lust, but with something steadier, gentler. When their hands brushed in passing, her heart would skip in ways that frightened her, because she remembered what it had felt like to belong to another.
Flo, her wolf, whispered often. This bond is not the fire of fate, but the warmth of choice. Perhaps that is stronger.
Alicia never answered. She was too afraid to hope.
The child came in the dead of night.
Alicia woke to a sharp, searing pain low in her belly. She gasped, clutching the furs, sweat beading her brow despite the cold air. Another wave hit her, stronger, making her cry out.
Flo’s voice was urgent. It is time. He comes now.
Panic seized Alicia’s chest. Alone, in exile, childbirth had always been her greatest fear. But now she was not in the forest, not cast out beneath the indifferent stars—she was in the Mountain Pack’s fortress. She had walls, fire, protection.
And she had Brooke.
Within moments, the chamber door burst open. Brooke strode in, his silver eyes sharp, his hair unbound, as if he had leapt from his own bed at her cry. Behind him came two pack women with steaming water and linens.
“What is it?” His voice was deep, urgent.
Alicia clutched her belly, trembling. “It’s—he’s coming…”
For an instant, Brooke’s composure cracked. He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as his gaze flicked to her belly, then her sweat-streaked face. But he quickly knelt beside her, taking her hand firmly in his.
“Breathe,” he commanded softly. “Do not fight it. You are strong, Alicia. Stronger than any of them ever knew.”
His voice, steady and calm, anchored her even as pain racked her body.
The women worked quickly, guiding her to a low cot by the fire. The contractions came harder, faster, each one tearing a cry from her lips. Alicia clung to Brooke’s hand, her nails digging into his skin, but he never flinched. His presence was immovable, his grip steady.
Through the haze of agony, she realized something startling: he had not left her side. In the Moon Pack palace, no Alpha would have lowered himself to witness such a thing. Yet Brooke knelt in the blood and sweat of her labor, his gaze fierce with something she had never seen directed at her before.
Not pity. Not disdain.
Loyalty.
Hours passed like an eternity. Her body felt as though it was breaking apart, the child fighting his way into the world. Flo howled inside her, lending strength with every wave of pain.
Push, Alicia. He is ours. He must live.
And at last, with one final, desperate cry, she felt the tearing agony give way to release. A newborn’s wail filled the chamber, sharp and defiant against the night.
Alicia collapsed against the furs, sobbing with exhaustion and relief. The pack women swiftly cleaned the infant, swaddling him in soft cloth.
Then they placed him in her arms.
Her son.
His tiny fists flailed, his cries fierce despite his size. Alicia’s tears spilled freely as she pressed her lips to his damp forehead. “My cub… my little one…”
Flo’s voice broke with joy. He is perfect. He is ours. He is the future.
Brooke’s shadow fell over them. He stood silently, his silver eyes locked on the child. For a long moment, he said nothing, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he lowered himself to sit beside her.
“Max’s blood runs in his veins,” Brooke said quietly.
Alicia stiffened, holding her son tighter, as if Brooke might take him away. Her voice shook. “Yes. But he is mine too. And I swear he will never be like his father.”
Brooke’s gaze lingered on the tiny cub, who had stopped crying and now blinked up with eyes that were startlingly bright for a newborn—pale gold, shimmering with the promise of strength.
At last, Brooke exhaled. His voice softened. “Then he will need protecting. From the world. From the Moon Pack. From the very blood that sired him.”
Alicia’s throat tightened. “Will you… help me?”
Brooke’s gaze shifted to her, steady and unwavering. He reached out, his large hand brushing against the cub’s swaddled form. “I swore the day you entered these halls that you would be protected. That promise includes him.”
Tears blurred Alicia’s vision again. She could not speak, so she only nodded, clutching her son closer.
Brooke leaned back slightly, his expression softening in a way that stole her breath. “What will you call him?”
Alicia hesitated. The name had lived in her heart since the day she first felt him stir inside her.
“Max,” she whispered. “Max Junior.”
Brooke’s brows furrowed, but he did not object. “A bold choice.”
Her eyes hardened, though her tears still fell. “Not as a tribute. As a reminder. One day, when the Moon Pack comes for him—as I know they will—they will have to look into his eyes and face what they threw away.”
For a long moment, Brooke said nothing. Then he inclined his head. “So be it.”
In the days that followed, Alicia’s chamber became a sanctuary. The pack women brought food and herbs, teaching her how to swaddle and soothe the cub. Flo purred constantly inside her, protective and proud.
But it was Brooke who surprised her most.
He visited often—more often than any Alpha had reason to. Sometimes he came to check on the cub, sometimes to speak of matters of the pack. But sometimes, he said nothing at all. He would simply sit across the fire, silent, as though his presence alone was enough.
And it was.
Alicia began to realize that the fortress no longer felt like a cage. With every passing day, her heart healed, her son thrived, and the bond between her and Brooke deepened—quiet, steady, like the roots of a tree growing unseen beneath the earth.
Yet in the darkest corners of her mind, she knew the peace could not last.
The Moon Pack had not forgotten her.
And neither had Alpha Max.