Carrying The Alpha Billionaire's Heir

Chapter 10 - The Choice She Doesn’t Want To Make

Celina’s POV



“I WANT out of here, Lucien.” My voice was sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. “I am not your prisoner.”

His gaze lifted from the papers on his desk, slow, deliberate. “You’re not a prisoner. You’re protected.”

“That’s not protection. That’s control,” I snapped, stepping closer to the edge of his desk. “I can’t breathe in this place—between you and Rhys like some prize you’re both circling. I’m done. I want my freedom.”

Lucien leaned back in his chair, studying me for a long beat before the corner of his mouth curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile. Then he laughed. Low. Cold.

“You think you can just walk away?” His eyes were like a wolf’s before the kill—sharp, unblinking. “You carry the heir to my bloodline, Celina. The Council would tear you apart before you got ten miles from here.”

“I’d take my chances.”

He stood then, slow and deliberate, closing the space between us until the heat of his presence swallowed me whole. “You wouldn’t last a day without me,” he murmured. “And you know it.”

I held his stare, my nails digging into my palms, but the air between us was already suffocating.

“f**k you,” I said between my teeth and straightened.

“Be my guest, Celina.”

I heard him say, but I was already dashing out the door. I left Lucien’s office with my heart pounding hard enough to bruise my ribs.

His voice still echoed in my head—sharp, clipped, controlled. Always controlled. He thought he could mask the truth under that icy Alpha composure, but I’d seen the flicker in his eyes before I’d turned away. A flicker that said my words had hit somewhere he didn’t want me touching.

I didn’t know if that was a victory or just another mistake.

The corridor outside his office felt colder than it should have, the kind of chill that crawls under your skin. I kept walking, my fingers curling into the sleeves of my sweater, replaying every second of that confrontation. The way he’d looked at me like I was something dangerous and fragile at the same time. The way he refused to admit what we both knew.

I couldn’t breathe here. Not in this estate. Not between him and Rhys, two Alpha wolves circling each other with me in the center like a bone neither would drop.

I needed air.

By the time I reached my room, my decision was made.

“I’m going out,” I told the guard stationed at my door. He was one of Lucien’s—tall, broad-shouldered, wearing that blank, obedient mask all his wolves seemed to wear in my presence.

He hesitated. “The Alpha hasn’t—”

“I’m not asking for his permission,” I cut in, forcing my voice steady. “I’m telling you. If it makes you feel better, you can come along and make sure I don’t throw myself into traffic or whatever it is you’re worried about.”

His mouth pressed into a tight line, but after a pause, he nodded. “I’ll accompany you.”

“Fine. Get your coat.”

The city was an hour’s drive away. I spent most of it staring out the car window, watching the forest give way to concrete and glass. The closer we got, the more I could breathe. Even the air felt different here—less heavy, less steeped in Alpha politics.

We stopped at a quiet café tucked between two boutiques, the kind of place with fogged windows and the smell of cinnamon baked into the walls. My guard—Marcus, I think his name was—took a table near the door, pretending to read a paper while keeping one eye on me.

I wrapped my hands around my mug and tried to remember the last time I’d been out in the world without a leash. Before Lucien. Before the cabin. Before the Council.

My sister’s face drifted unbidden into my mind.

Amara.

She’d been older than me by three years, braver by ten. The kind of woman who would stand in the middle of a storm and dare it to hit her harder. She’d been mated to a rival Alpha—one who thought power was something you built from the bones of others.

When the war over the southern borders broke out, Amara became leverage. She was taken, traded like a pawn between men who thought blood ties meant ownership. When they were done with her, they sent her back to our pack in a wooden box.

I’d never forgiven them. Or myself.

Now here I was, carrying a child who might one day be seen as exactly the same kind of pawn.

The thought made my grip tighten on the mug until my knuckles ached.

“Everything all right?” Marcus asked from across the room.

I forced a small smile. “Just thinking.”

He nodded like that was an acceptable answer, but I could feel his gaze on me. Always watching. Always ready to report back to his Alpha.

I needed to clear my head, so after we left the café, I told him I wanted to walk. We wandered through the market streets, weaving between stalls selling spices, leather goods, and jewelry. The normalcy of it all was almost enough to make me forget that my life wasn’t mine anymore.

Almost.

When we reached a quieter part of the city, I slowed, letting my gaze drift to the old brick buildings and the soft drizzle that slicked the cobblestones. This could be a life, I thought. Not grand estates or council meetings—just this. A place where my baby could grow up without being stamped with the weight of a title before they could walk.

But even in my daydream, I knew it wasn’t possible.

Not with Lucien. Not with the Council.

Not with the prophecy blood Eryk had whispered about when he thought I wasn’t listening.

I exhaled, long and shaky, and glanced at Marcus. “Let’s head back.”

We took the side streets toward the car, and that’s when I felt it.

A prickle at the back of my neck.

The faintest shift in the air—too deliberate to be the wind, too quiet to be human footsteps.

I didn’t look over my shoulder right away. Instead, I caught Marcus’s eye. “We’re being followed,” I murmured.

His posture stiffened instantly. “Stay close to me.”

We walked faster, but the sound followed. Soft. Padded. A predator’s gait.

The drizzle picked up, making the streetlights shimmer. My pulse pounded in my ears, and the urge to glance behind me became unbearable.

When I did, I caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows between two buildings—tall, broad, and wrong.

Then I saw it.

Not hands. Claws.

They caught the light for half a second before disappearing again.

Marcus swore under his breath, his body angling between me and the sound. “Get to the car. Now.”

But the thing following us didn’t slow.

And deep down, I knew this was only the beginning of the choice I didn’t want to make.