The Alpha King's Surrogate

Chapter 11:He Isn't Yours

Kyra's POV

“Yes,” Jazmine said.

She reached into the small pocket of her apron and pulled out a thin folded photograph, the edges already soft from being handled. She held it out so I could see.

A baby girl, maybe seven months old, sat in a patch of sunlight on a blanket. Crimson-red hair and already showing a stubborn wave, with sky-blue eyes that looked too sharp for someone that small. The same stubborn set to the mouth I’d seen on Jake earlier. She was plump and healthy, one fist shoved against her own cheek, staring at whoever held the camera like she was already unimpressed with the world.

"She looks exactly like him," I said.

"Everyone says that." Jazmine laughed. "Not a trace of me in her, poor thing. Same stubborn chin too, I swear it, even at six months old."

"She's beautiful." I handed her the photo back.

My stomach still felt raw, but the worst of the nausea had eased enough that I could focus on something other than not throwing up. Talking helped it seemed, looking at someone else’s life helped more.

"She is." Jazmine's smiled and glanced back at me, at the bowl of broth still cooling in my hands. "Anyway. Enough about me, you should eat while it's warm."

"I'd rather talk," I admitted. "Gets my mind off things."

She studied me a moment, then settled back into her chair. "Ummm, okay, What do you want to know?"

"What's her name?" I asked.

"Rose," she said quietly.

"That's a beautiful name, it suites her," I smiled. "How did you end with him? I hope am not being intrusive, I just need something to think about that isn’t my own insides trying to climb out of my throat.”

"I don't mind," she leaned forward."We've been together for three years."

"Three years?" I blinked. "And she's only six months? I thought omegas are supposed to be very fertile."

"Yeah," she chuckled slightly. "It's a.... complicated story."

"Oh," I said, now regretting the fact I asked. "Sorry if that made you uncomfortable. You don't have to tell me."

"I know," Jazmine. "I'll tell you, maybe another time."

I looked down at the bowl resting in my hands, watching the thin curls of steam fade into the air. I'd asked because I'd wanted to stop thinking about myself for a while. Instead, I'd wandered into a place that clearly still hurt.

Westwood had taught me not to ask questions people didn't want to answer.

"So..." I smiled faintly. "Tell me about Rose instead."

Jazmine's whole face changed.

The hesitation melted away, replaced by the kind of warmth only mothers seemed capable of.

"Oh, where do I even start?" she laughed softly. "She's stubborn."

"I noticed." I chuckled slightly.

"She refuses to sleep unless she's convinced she's won the argument first."

I blinked. "Can babies argue?"

"They absolutely can." Jazmine nodded. "She'll scream at her father until he picks her up, then immediately falls asleep on his shoulder."

I couldn't help laughing. "So she already has him wrapped around her little finger?"

"Oh, completely." Jazmine grinned. "Don't let Jake hear me admit it, but she's the only person in the kingdom who can order the Gamma around without saying a single word."

The image of the intimidating Gamma obediently carrying around a tiny baby was so unexpected that another laugh escaped me before I could stop it. For a little while, the nausea, the loneliness, and the weight in my chest eased.

For the first time since arriving in Crestwood, the palace felt... almost normal.

"Does he help?" I asked. "With... everything?"

Jazmine let out a snort. "Depends what you mean by help."

"I mean the baby," I said slowly. "The house."

"He's not the kind of person to do that," she said carefully. "He believes most household things are better left to particular set of people."

"So... no?" I tilted my head slightly.

"You could say that." She rested her chin on her hand. "But if Rose cries in the middle of the night, he's already out of bed before I open my eyes."

I frowned. "Really?"

"He insists he doesn't know how to soothe babies." She said. "Then somehow she ends up asleep on his chest every single time."

I looked down at the tiny photograph again. Rose looked so safe and lloved. My fingers unconsciously drifted to my own stomach.

"Were you scared?" I asked quietly."When you were pregnant?"

"I was terrified," Jazmine's smile faded. "Everyone was telling me what to do. "Eat this,don't eat that. Sleep more and walk less. Don't lift anything heavier than a blanket. Every day someone had a new rule."

"Did it ever get easier?" I asked.

"No, it doesn't, you just get stronger." She said. "There were mornings I cried because I couldn't keep breakfast down. Days when my back hurt so much I wanted to stay in bed forever."

She looked at Rose's picture.

"Then she'd kick." Her smile deepened. "And somehow... I'd find the strength to keep going."

> "Does the morning sickness ever stop?" I asked hopefully.

"It usually does," Jazmine laughed.

"That's not very comforting," I groaned quietly.

"I know." She grinned. "For most omegas it eases after the first few months. Dr. Alyssa told me the same thing, and I didn't believe her either."

"So there's hope?"

"Yeah there is," I said.

My gaze drifted back to the photograph still resting in Jazmine's hands. My chest tightened until it almost hurt. I found myself wondering what it would feel like to hold a baby like that. To memorize every little smile and every sleepy yawn. To hear a tiny voice call me Mama one day.

The thought barely had time to form before I crushed it. This wasn't my baby. It never would be.

My fingers curled over the fabric covering my stomach, lingering there for only a second before I forced them away. I wasn't supposed to think like that. The child growing inside me belonged to the Alpha King. I was only the woman carrying the heir until it was time to hand the baby over.

The reminder settled heavily in my chest, stealing away the warmth that Rose's photograph had stirred only moments before.

"You'll probably have photographs like this one day," Jazmine said gently.

"No." My voice came out sharper than I wanted. "I won't. This baby isn't mine. I'm only carrying the heir."

Jazmine's smile faded. She bit the inside of her cheek, her fingers tightening around the photograph before she lowered it to her lap.

"Kyra... I'm sorry." She said quickly. "I wasn't thinking."

Before I could say anything else, a knock sounded at the door.

A young servant stepped in, eyes lowered.

“Lady Jazmine?" She said. "The Gamma is here. He asked if you’ve finished your duties for the morning.”

Jazmine stood in one smooth motion, tucking the photo back into her apron. The soft curves of her body shifted under the uniform as she smoothed the fabric. “Tell him I’m on my way.”

The servant nodded and disappeared. She looked at me again, that same calm, practical warmth returning to her face like a mask she knew how to wear.

“I should go. He gets impatient when he has to wait in corridors.” She nodded toward the half-finished bowl on the tray. “Try to finish the soup. Even if it’s cold and I’ll check on you later.”

“Thank you,” I said.

She gave me one last small smile and left, closing the door quietly behind her and the suite dropped back into silence.

I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the cooling broth, at the empty chair she’d left, at the place on my own wrist where no bracelet or charm or proof of anything soft existed. My thoughts drifted whether I wanted them to or not, back to the medical wing, to the way the Alpha King’s eyes had locked on me like the rest of the world had disappeared, to the single word his wolf had thrown across the space between us.

Mate.

I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes hard enough to see sparks.

Stop. I couldn’t afford that. Not the memory or the pull, or the dangerous, stupid part of me that kept replaying the moment his scent had hit and everything in my body had recognized something it had no right to want. I was a surrogate. A temporary body. The payment for Lianna’s freedom. Nothing else.

I stood, walked to the wide window, and looked down.

Far below in the main courtyard the Alpha King was crossing toward the council building, He wore a black coat, broad shoulders. A cluster of guards moving with him like they formed a living wall. Even from this height he looked powerful and untouchable. The kind of man the world rearranged itself around.

He never once looked up. I watched until the last of the guards disappeared through the arched entrance.

“He isn’t yours.” I said quietly, out loud.