The Alpha King’s Wet Nurse

The scent of luxurious perfumes clashed inside the magnificent black-and-gold hall. Sora stood at the very back, tightly squeezing her cold fingers. In the same row as her stood a dozen women wearing low-cut outfits that hardly resembled the attire of a wet nurse. Sora lowered her head, looking down at the cheap clothes she had just bought specifically to apply for a job today at the residence of the billionaire, Davian Thorne. “Rion’s hospital bills have piled up, Miss. If there’s no payment today, we’ll have no choice but to stop his medication.” The doctor’s words from that morning still echoed in her mind. Rion, her ten-year-old younger brother, was fighting for his life. The piercing cry of a baby suddenly broke through Sora’s thoughts. The cry sounded utterly heartbreaking, as though the baby were enduring excruciating pain. Yet the attention of the women who had also come to apply was not focused on the baby in the basket, but on the man sitting on the leather sofa at the far end of the room. Davian Thorne. The man was a combination of flawless handsomeness and a heavy aura of danger. His gray, hawk-like eyes stared coldly at the crowd, as though the humans before him were nothing more than piles of dust. “Next! Come on, hurry up. Don’t waste the Master’s time!” The sharp, nagging voice of a middle-aged woman in a head butler’s uniform, Greta, rang loudly through the room. A woman in a bright red dress stepped forward with a forced sweet smile. She walked toward the baby’s basket, but her eyes kept glancing toward Davian. Once she stood beside the basket, instead of focusing on calming the hysterically crying baby, the woman deliberately loosened the buttons at the top of her dress, blatantly revealing the curves of her chest. “Oh, you poor little thing... Come here, sweetheart. Auntie has plenty of good milk for you,” the woman cooed in an affected voice, deliberately thrusting her chest toward Davian, who was sitting on the sofa. However, before her hand could touch the baby, the little one only cried even louder, vehemently rejecting the woman’s presence. “Enough.” Davian’s voice was firm, and its vibration made the hair on the back of Sora’s neck stand on end. “Throw her out. Never let her set foot on this property again.” “M-Master... Let me try again!” the woman screamed hysterically as two burly guards dragged her out without mercy. The same thing happened with the second applicant, the third, and so on. They claimed they wanted to nurse the billionaire’s baby, who supposedly could not be breastfed by his wife, but their true intention was to seduce the Master. One by one, Davian ruthlessly had them thrown out. Until finally, the room that had once been crowded suddenly fell silent. Only the baby’s cries remained, growing weaker from exhaustion... and Sora, standing alone. Sora swallowed with difficulty. Her heart pounded wildly. She wanted to run because the aura of the man on the sofa was incredibly intimidating. But the image of her younger brother lying in the hospital forced her to keep her feet planted here. Besides, her breasts were painfully swollen and engorged. Ever since her baby had been pronounced dead after giving birth a week ago, her milk supply had been abundant and had never been emptied. “Good heavens, there’s still one more? Why does she look so shabby!” Greta grumbled as she approached Sora. Her high heels clacked loudly against the floor. She looked Sora up and down with an intensely disdainful gaze, her heavily lipstick-covered lips never stopping their muttering. “Hey, you!” Mrs. Greta called out in a shrill, contemptuous tone. “Just look at the way you’re dressed! Are you sure you came here to work as a wet nurse, or are you just trying to cling to Mr. Thorne like all those cheap women, huh? Good grief, women these days really have no shame!” Sora met the head butler’s eyes without flinching, even though her hands were trembling. “I’m here to apply for the job, ma’am. I really need this job.” “Listen, I’ve heard that excuse hundreds of times today!” Greta cut her off sharply, giving Sora no chance to catch her breath. “All those shameless women who were dragged out earlier said they needed a job too! Don’t think you can seduce the Master by pretending to be innocent like this. I’ve been around the block, and I know exactly the type of lazy woman you are, someone who just wants quick money and is after a position in this household!” “I don’t care about your Master!” Sora said firmly, causing Greta to stop mid-sentence, stunned by the young woman’s boldness. “I have no intention of seducing anyone, and I have an abundant supply of breast milk, while that baby needs to be fed. I just want to do my job and get paid as promised. That’s all!” From the corner of the room, Davian’s gray eyes slowly lifted. The man narrowed his eyes, watching Sora stand tall beneath his head butler’s scolding. For some reason, Davian showed a hint of interest. There was a strange scent reaching his keen sense of smell, an incredibly unfamiliar sweetness that suddenly soothed his wild instincts. “Let her try, Greta,” Davian ordered from the sofa. Greta snorted loudly, clapping her hands dramatically. “Let her learn her lesson! Let her get a reality check! Step forward, and remember, don’t you dare make any suspicious moves or you’ll be dealing with the police!” Sora ignored the woman’s rambling. Her attention was now focused on the baby crying inside the basket. As soon as she stood beside it, Sora’s heart felt as though it had been struck by a massive hammer. There, a tiny baby boy with reddish skin lay crying. His little hands waved through the air, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he sobbed. The pain in Sora’s chest suddenly transformed into a surge of warmth. Her maternal instinct, which had briefly died, now clutched tightly at her heart. “Shhh... It’s okay, sweetheart...” Sora whispered softly. Sora carefully touched her pinky to the baby’s tiny palm. The moment their skin touched, something miraculous happened. Baby Zael suddenly stopped crying, his sobs ceasing instantly. Mrs. Greta froze, her mouth, which had been ready to start babbling again, hanging wide open. “How could this...? This... this is impossible!” The little baby slowly opened his clear eyes and stared straight at Sora. Without hesitation, Sora lifted the tiny body into her arms. Strangely, Baby Zael did not resist at all. Instead, he rested his little face against Sora’s chest, then whimpered as he rubbed his lips around, searching for a source of nourishment. Sora’s breast milk suddenly began to leak, soaking the front of her clothes because of her powerful maternal reflex. “He... he wants to nurse from me,” Sora murmured, her eyes glistening with tears. She looked at Greta hopefully. “May I take him to a more private room to nurse?” Greta remained rooted to the spot, stammering, unable to answer. A dozen beautiful, fragrant women had failed, yet the highly sensitive baby who rejected every kind of milk had now curled his tiny fingers around the clothes of the very woman she had just insulted. Heavy, purposeful footsteps approached. Sora looked up and found Davian already standing very close beside her. His height forced Sora to tilt her head all the way back to look at him. Davian looked at his baby, who now appeared so calm and comfortable in Sora’s arms. But then the gray eyes of the Lycan King shifted to Sora, his gaze deep and filled with confusion. The pheromones in Davian’s blood suddenly churned violently, recognizing something in the woman before him, something that should not have existed in an ordinary human. “What’s your name?” Davian asked in a low, trembling voice. Sora held Baby Zael more tightly, trying to suppress her nervousness. “Sora... My name is Sora, sir.” “You start working today,” Davian continued.