Rejected by the Alpha, Pregnant with His Heir

I learned two things the night Lucien Blackthorne rejected me.

First-wolves can smell fear.

Second-their Alphas can smell destiny and still choose to deny it.

I didn't know either of those things when I walked into Blackthorne Industries for the first time, clutching a leather folder to my chest and reminding myself to breathe. The building towered over the city like a monument to power-cold steel, dark glass, and sharp lines that cut into the sky. It wasn't just a corporate headquarters. It was a warning.

I should have listened.

The elevator ride to the top floor was silent except for the soft hum of ascent and the sound of my heartbeat pounding too loudly in my ears. I stared at my reflection in the polished metal doors-dark hair pulled back neatly, plain dress, no jewelry except the small silver pendant my mother had given me before she died. I looked... ordinary.

Too ordinary to belong here.

"You've earned this, Aurelia," I whispered under my breath. "Don't let them scare you."

The doors slid open.

The moment I stepped onto the executive floor, something shifted in the air.

It wasn't a smell-at least, not one I recognized at first. It was heavier than perfume, sharper than cologne. Power. Heat. Something ancient and alive that brushed against my skin and made my pulse stumble.

I froze.

My chest tightened as if the air itself had changed density, pressing down on me, testing me. I swallowed hard and forced my feet to move forward. The assistant at the reception desk barely glanced up before pointing me toward the corner office.

"Mr. Blackthorne is expecting you," she said flatly.

Of course he was.

Lucien Blackthorne. CEO. Billionaire. Recluse. The man whose name whispered through the city like a threat and through the supernatural world like a curse. I'd researched him the way anyone would before a high-level interview-business profiles, scandal rumors, faceless articles praising his ruthless efficiency.

None of them mentioned the wolves.

None of them warned me what it would feel like to stand this close to an Alpha.

I knocked once.

"Enter."

The voice came from inside-low, controlled, edged with something dangerous. It sent a shiver straight down my spine.

I pushed the door open.

The office was massive, all dark wood and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. And there-standing with his back to me, hands clasped behind him-was Lucien Blackthorne.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Perfectly still.

He turned slowly.

Our eyes met.

The world tilted.

I don't have another way to describe it. One second, I was standing in an office; the next, my lungs forgot how to work. His gaze locked onto mine like a predator finding its target, and something inside me reacted violently-heat blooming in my veins, heart slamming, instincts I didn't understand screaming at me to run and stay at the same time.

Gold flickered in his dark eyes.

Just for a second.

Then it was gone.

Lucien's expression hardened into cold disdain, but I saw it-the momentary