Pregnant With Four Alphas' Babies

*Rose* “Four million dollars? Isn’t that an awful lot of money for only a few months’ worth of work?” Quiet voices filter into my ears from the living room, and I pause to listen, hoping that my parents are not discussing me. Then… I hear my name, and I know that they are talking about me. Again. “Rose is a fine young woman,” my mother is saying. “Any Alpha would be happy to have her.” “I know, I know,” my father agrees. “I definitely think it’s worth it for us to send her.” An Alpha having me? I don’t know what this is about, but at least it’s not about a job. The last time I stumbled upon my parents discussing my fate, I was sorry I’d overheard any of it. At the time, they were going on about a new job for me. That didn’t seem bad at first, but when I finally had to report for duty, it was at a sewage factory. It turned out to be hard work, but I just plugged my nose and dealt with it. I may have been the daughter of an Alpha, but I had to do something to help out with my family’s crushing debt. “I know that it would be the answer to all of our prayers, Karen,” my father adds, before confessing, “But I’m worried she won’t be able to do what they want her to do. After all, our little Rose isn’t that bright. She can be a real i***t sometimes. She might not even know which hole to put it in.” My father's callous words slice through me like a jagged blade, intensifying my confusion over their cryptic conversation. What in the world were they even talking about? The sting of his hurtful remarks triggers a flood of memories, a barrage of insults that he has hurled at me over time. "i***t" was relatively mild when compared to the other venomous labels he has called me. Yet, despite my attempts to remain composed, a surge of pain rises within me, causing tears to well up and sting my eyes. Why can’t my parents just love me like the other kids I know who have parents that love them unconditionally? Alpha Howard, my father, and Luna Karen, my mother, possess a glaring deficiency when it comes to maintaining accurate financial records for the pack. The truth is, the coffers are nearly empty, rendering their task all the more challenging. Everyone within the pack is well aware that they have shamelessly dipped their hands into the funds, redirecting them toward personal projects at home. The gradual depletion of our natural resources a few years ago shattered any illusion of concealing the pack's massive debt. It became painfully evident that my parents had been the primary culprits responsible for the reckless expenditure. And so, I stepped up, doing everything within my power to aid them in their dire predicament. I sacrificed and would continue to do so if necessary. The pack holds an indescribable significance to me, despite the horrible actions of my parents. Someone must bear the burden of salvaging our pack and taking responsibility for its future. As I continue to eavesdrop, a flicker of confidence washes over me, dispelling any concerns of being dispatched to another wretched sewage treatment plant. After all, my previous work at such a facility ended unceremoniously with my dismissal due to an unfortunate tendency to vomit on the job. Irony, it seems, has a peculiar sense of humor. "This is unlike anything we've encountered before!" My mother's voice resonates with annoyance, and though I'm unable to witness their expressions through the narrow opening of the door where I discreetly listen, I can almost see her rolling her eyes in exasperation. "She's not going to disgrace herself in front of the Alphas!" "You hope," my dad retorts, catching me off guard. Before I can dwell too much on his words, he continues, "But mark my words, daughters of Alphas and Betas from every corner of the kingdom will vie for this position. Why on earth would they ever select Rose? She's utterly inept!" So, this conversation revolves around a job. I strive to conceal my frown at my father's profound lack of faith in me. Even though I remain oblivious to the precise nature of their discussion, perhaps his skepticism holds some validity. Maybe I truly lack the capabilities required for whatever task they are alluding to. The notion of embarking on yet another dreadful job twists my stomach into knots. As torturous as it is to live with my cruel parents, at least within these walls, I know what to expect. Leaving is not a viable option. I am the Alpha's daughter, and abandoning my home prior to marriage would ignite rampant speculation, tarnishing the pack's reputation—an outcome my parents would never permit. But the intensity of their present conversation leaves my palms sweaty and my head spinning. I longingly yearn for the possibility of escape, a chance to depart this place that has held me captive for far too long. I want to uncover the truth before forming any judgments, but fear paralyzes me, preventing me from advancing even an inch. I cautiously shift my weight, causing the ancient floorboards to let go a loud squeak. It should have alerted them to my presence, yet they continue their conversation, oblivious to my eavesdropping. Our dilapidated and worn-out house has deteriorated to such an extent that my subtle movements go unnoticed. Thankfully, they mistake the sounds I create for the usual settling of the foundation—nothing more–and continue speaking. "We will send her. Undoubtedly, she will find a way to bungle it, but we must make the attempt. It's preferable to letting her remain here and further disrupt our lives," my mother asserts. "Fine," my father grudgingly agrees. "I'm merely cautioning you not to get your hopes up. It's highly probable that she will disappoint us, just as she has with every task she's ever been assigned on our behalf." My heart plummets into the pit of my stomach, a feeble throb amidst the crushing weight of disappointment. Is this truly what my parents think of me? Whatever dreadful task they are preparing to assign me, it fills me with a sense of terror. Perhaps they are right in their assessment that I am incapable of accomplishing it. After all, I find myself failing repeatedly in the face of their unattainable expectations. At least, that's the narrative I've convinced myself of. Considering the involvement of other Alphas, it's safe to assume their standards will be equally exacting, mirroring those of my father. No, I simply cannot bear the weight of this burden. The instinct to escape, to find a hiding place, engulfs me entirely. Regardless of the nature of the task, it feels unbearably atrocious for someone like me to even contemplate attempting it. I can’t wait to leave this place, to distance myself from these overwhelming circumstances. As I hear approaching footsteps, a surge of panic compels me to conceal my eavesdropping. I hastily retreat several steps, finding refuge near the sink. I turn the tap on, its steady stream camouflaging my presence, and grab a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water as if innocently quenching my thirst. "Oh, there you are, dear," my mom's voice resonates, although the endearment sounds strained, as if it were forced from her lips. "We were hoping to talk to you. Wait—were you listening?" I face them, feigning nonchalance, taking a sip from the glass before gently placing it on the counter. "No, I wasn't listening," I say, hoping my performance convinces her. She appears to believe me. "What is it, Mom?" I ask, my tone curt and guarded. "Well, there's an intriguing job opportunity at the castle. King Gene is seeking a truly exceptional young lady to fulfill a specific role, and we genuinely believe you are the ideal candidate for this new position." My father's smile radiates, seemingly genuine, despite having just overheard their doubts regarding my capabilities. "What kind of job is it?" I ask, longing for clarity amidst the murky waters of uncertainty. A flicker of unease passes between my parents, triggering memories of the sewage treatment plant and its unpleasant associations. Surely, they wouldn't subject me to something equally dreadful. "Well, sweetheart," my mom begins, her voice tinged with hesitation. "It's an exceedingly important job." Why won’t they just tell mel? Why can't they just say it? "Yes, you mentioned that," I say, my impatience growing. "The king is currently deliberating which Alpha will succeed him as the next Alpha King once he retires. Since he has no offspring, he intends to appoint one of four Alphas to assume the throne." My father's smile emerges, a glimmer of hope that he might secure the position himself. That will not be the case. “All right…” I sigh. “What does that have to do with me?” Another uneasy exchange of glances passes between them. “The Alpha who takes over the throne will need to have an heir,” my mom explains. “And… that means… they need… a Breeder.” The water I swallowed a moment ago seems to have come back up, and I find myself choking. No one asks if I’m okay or tries to comfort me as I attempt to breathe. Eventually, I recover enough to ask, “A Breeder? You want me to be a baby making machine for an Alpha?” I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. I’m a virgin! I’ve never even kissed a man before. I’ve been saving myself in hopes of finding a true love match that will become a fated mate, but from what I’m hearing, none of that matters now. “That’s right, dear,” my father says. “The pay is excellent, and it would give our pack some much-needed status in the kingdom.” “But what about me?” I ask, annoyed. “You’re okay with essentially selling my virginity to some random Alpha?” “Honey, it’s not like that,” my mom says. “It’s an honor. A lot of Alphas and Betas are sending their daughters to try for the position. We are only hoping that you’ll be the best suited.” I shake my head. “No, please.” My father’s hand lashes out and slaps me hard across the face. I recoil as my cheek lights on fire. I should’ve known better than to tell him no. This isn’t the first time he’s slapped me. “Don’t you tell me no, you little b***h!” Their fake niceness has already faded away. I step back, out of his reach. “Mom, Dad, please! You know I’ve always done everything you’ve asked me to do, but you can’t seriously be asking me to do this, to sell myself to an Alpha I don’t even know?” My dad takes a deep breath through his nose. “I think you’re misunderstanding a couple of things, Rose,” my father says. “First of all, we’re not asking you to do anything. We are telling you. You’ll leave tomorrow.” “But Dad!” I begin. He holds up a hand to stop me, and I’m not sure whether he’ll hit me again if I don’t stop talking. “The other thing you’re misunderstanding, Rose,” he continues, “is that you will not be a Breeder for a random Alpha.” I take a deep breath, hoping that means I won’t be a Breeder at all. “I won’t?” I ask worriedly. “No, daughter,” my mother says. “There are four Alphas, and they’ve already been selected, so it isn’t random at all!” My spirits fall as I realize my misunderstanding had nothing to do with not having to become a Breeder. That is still the job they are giving me. It’s just the random part I was apparently wrong about. “So… I’ll be assigned to one of the Alphas as a Breeder?” I ask them. Again, my parents shake their heads. “No, that’s not it at all,” my father says, clearly growing agitated again. I lean back against the kitchen counter, feeling myself grow dizzy and weak in the knees from so much discussion about such a terrifying subject. “What is it then?” I ask. They have an internal debate about who has to answer that question, and it is my mom who draws the short stick. With a deep breath, she says, “Rose, you won’t be a Breeder to one of the Alphas. You’ll be a Breeder to all four.” “All four?” The words echo around in my head, but I can’t absorb them. It just doesn’t seem possible. My parents are willing to sell me to all four of them? I’ll have to have s*x with four different men? “No!” The word escapes my lips before I can even think about it, and once again, I feel the sharp blow of my father’s hand contacting my cheek. The stinging inside of me is worse than the smarting in my cheek, though. I can’t do this…. That lightheaded feeling envelopes me, and the next thing I know, the world is turning dark at the edges, and I find myself giving way to gravity. The last thing I hear is my mom saying, “Rose, really?” and then the world goes black.