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Spainho us — 🧲 Magnetic Car Phone Mount – Secure, Scratch-Free & Vibration-Free
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🧲 Magnetic Car Phone Mount – Secure, Scratch-Free & Vibration-Free

Stopped earlyStarted 3 days ago

Ran 1 day · stopped 8 Nov

2026 Must-Read Stories 🔞💥 Read Now👈

At thirty-four weeks pregnant, my OB-GYN flipped through my chart. “Does the sperm donor have any family history of genetic disease?” she asked. I managed a smile. “We didn’t use a donor.” She turned her monitor toward me. In the records forwarded from the fertility clinic, the “source of sperm” field for the past two years read: *directed donation*. Five donors were listed by their initials: C.R., M.B., D.S., R.O., S.W. I knew those initials. Every Thursday, those five men played basketball with my husband in our backyard, then drank the beer I kept iced for them in the cooler. There was one more line in the notes: *Husband (vasectomy) not included among candidates.* That night, a baby gift basket from all five of them was delivered to my door. The card read: *Two million says the strongest swimmer wins.* Five years. Hundreds of injections. Two miscarriages. And while I was lying on an operating table, they’d been betting on whose sperm would take. They wanted to know whose child it was? Fine. I would let them know. In front of their wives. Two weeks later, on the same day, the wives of those five men all opened the same card. All five men lost. …… I sat on the floor in the foyer for two hours, the card clenched in my hand the entire time. The basket sat by the door, stuffed with baby socks and burp cloths under a tent of crinkling cellophane. On top was a onesie with a single line across the chest: *Daddy’s Little Champion*. My husband, Brandt, didn’t get home until nine. We’d been married for twelve years. He worked in commercial real estate in Dallas, and over the past few years, his business had gotten bigger and bigger. Ivy came in behind him. Ivy was his stepsister, seven years younger than me. When Brandt was fourteen, his father married Ivy’s mother. From then on, Ivy became, in his words, “the only person in this world who’s ever been genuinely good to me.” She’d moved to Los Angeles two years ago, and Brandt had always been convinced I was the one who drove her away. He was wrong. I’d cleaned up one of her messes and kept it buried for two years. But I’d never explained that to him, because I had promised her I wouldn’t. “Why are you sitting on the floor?” Brandt frowned. “The doctor said you shouldn’t sit for too long.” I held out the card. “‘Two million says the strongest swimmer wins.’ Explain this to me.” He barely glanced at it. “It’s just Colt and the guys messing around. That’s how men joke.” “Joke about what?” “Caroline.” He sighed, as if I were a child who couldn’t grasp something simple. “You’ve been too sensitive lately.” “I saw my doctor today. She asked me if the sperm donor had a family history of genetic disease.” For a fraction of a second, I saw his fingers freeze on the card. Just for a second. Then he smiled and turned to Ivy. “See? I told you something’s been off with her. Pregnancy hormones. The internet is full of this stuff.” Ivy came over and crouched in front of me, her voice soft, like she was coaxing a frightened animal. “Caroline, don’t overthink it. Everyone knows how well Brandt has treated you all these years.” “Then tell me,” I said. “How has he treated me?” She blinked, but said nothing. Brandt hauled her to her feet. “Enough. Don’t bother with her.” He turned back to me. “By the way, Ivy’s handling the shower on Saturday.” “I already booked the backyard. I ordered the cake, too.” “I canceled it this afternoon,” he said, his tone perfectly casual. “You’re this emotionally unstable right now—why should you be worrying about any of that?” “That’s my baby shower.” “It’s our family’s shower,” he corrected me. “Ivy wants to do something nice for you. Considering how you treated her back then, you should know better. She’s not holding it against you anymore, so stop making things so awkward.” I stared at him. After twelve years, I was finally seeing the absolute certainty he wore when he said things like that. He never asked. He just knew. Three days later, the invitations went out. The location had been changed from my backyard to Preston Oaks Country Club, where Brandt was a member. The invitation was in Ivy’s handwriting. The theme read: *Little Champion on the Way* 🏆 In Dallas, a sports-themed shower like that wasn’t unusual. Brandt’s friends spent every weekend either on a court or watching football. Their wives would see an invitation like that and think it was cute. Printed beneath it was the game lineup: *Baby Pool. Guess the due date, weight, and hair color—the most accurate guess wins the pot.* It was the most common game at any baby shower. Every shower I’d ever been to had one. But the tiny line at the bottom had been added by Ivy: *Winner takes all.* That night, Brandt posted a photo of the invitation on Facebook: *Thanks to Ivy for giving Caroline the shower she deserves. ❤️* It got more than two hundred likes. Colt commented underneath: *Can’t wait. May the strongest swimmer win 🏊‍♂️🏆* A string of wives liked his comment. One of them, Dana, replied: *Haha, men are so immature.* What they saw was a joke. What I saw was their bet, printed on my own invitation and mailed to each of their homes.The next morning, I drove to the fertility clinic. I’d been in and out of that place for five years. The woman at the front desk smiled when she saw me and asked when the baby was due. I told her I needed a full copy of my patient records. She hesitated for a moment but printed them anyway. There were more than three hundred pages, stuffed into a bulging file folder. I sat in my car and went through them, page by page. For the first, second, and third years, the “source of sperm” field read *spouse* on every page. At the end of the third year, it changed to *directed donation*. Attached to it was an informed consent form with my name signed at the bottom. It wasn’t my signature. When I write a C, the tail curves up. This one was flat. The signature was dated March seventeenth. I remembered that day. It was the day after I was hospitalized for my first miscarriage. I had been lying in that hospital bed while Brandt held my hand and told me, “It’s not your fault, baby. It’s really not your fault.” The physician’s signature read: *C. Rasmussen, Director of Embryology.* Colt had been Brandt’s college roommate. Five years ago, he was the one who’d recommended the clinic to us. “My people,” he’d said, clapping Brandt on the shoulder. “You can trust me.” I kept flipping pages until I reached the records from my second miscarriage. That was in the fall of our fifth year. I’d been eleven weeks along when I started bleeding in a grocery store parking lot. Brandt had cried that night, too. I had always thought he was crying for our child. Now I knew neither of those children had been his. At the back of the file was an embryo cryostorage agreement. I hadn’t read it carefully when I signed it, only remembering Brandt at my side, hurrying me along. “Come on, Colt’s waiting.” In the signature block, his handwriting pressed much harder into the paper than mine. I set the file folder on the passenger seat and sat there for a long time. I didn’t cry. I found I couldn’t. When I got home, Brandt’s car was in the garage. He always did the same thing with mail he didn’t want to deal with—stuffed it into the glove compartment until the pile was big enough to throw away all at once. I opened it. Sure enough, there was a stack of unopened envelopes. One of them was from a North Dallas urology clinic, dated eleven months earlier. *Dear Mr. Hale, this is a reminder to return for your twelve-week post-vasectomy follow-up semen analysis. Until your follow-up confirms sterility, fertility remains possible, and contraception is advised.* The envelope was still sealed. He had never opened it. I slipped it into my bag. That night, I lay in bed and counted the dates backward. The vasectomy. Then, three weeks later, the final embryo transfer. The weekend before the transfer was our wedding anniversary. He’d been drinking, and we… My phone buzzed, pulling me from the thought. It was a text from Theo. Theo had been a project manager at Brandt’s company for eight years. He was the only one in that crowd who never came to my house to drink beer. *I can’t pretend I don’t know anymore. You need to see the board.*We met in a Whataburger parking lot. Theo didn’t get out of his car; he just had me climb into the passenger seat. “They’ve got a private card room at the club. They go there after their game on Thursdays,” he said, staring at the steering wheel the whole time. “Two years ago, Colt came to me and said Brandt needed help. Asked if I’d be willing to ‘contribute.’ I told him that was fucking criminal. After that, they stopped inviting me.” “What board?” He handed me his phone. The photo was tilted, obviously taken in a hurry. A corkboard hung on the wall of the card room, covered in photos. I recognized them immediately—my ultrasound pictures. Every single one I’d posted on Instagram over the past five years. Each time, I’d captioned it: *Our little miracle, hang in there.* Next to the photos, written in marker, were five names, each followed by a number. Odds. Colt was two-to-one. Sean was eight-to-one. Across the ultrasound from my first miscarriage was a red X, with *First round void* written beside it. The one from my second miscarriage had another red X: *Second round void. Bets reopened.* The newest one was the thirty-four-week scan I’d posted just last week. Beside it: *Drawing at 35 weeks.* I handed the phone back. My hands were steady—so steady it unsettled me. “Why are you telling me this now?” Theo dropped his head. “My wife just had our second baby. Our mortgage depends on this job. I’m sorry, Caroline. I am so, so sorry.” I didn’t blame him. All I could think was: *How many people around me have known?* That afternoon, I made an appointment with a divorce lawyer for Monday. I also booked a flight to Austin, where my sister lived. The next morning at Target, my card was declined. I tried another one. Declined again. Every card we had—our joint cards, my personal cards—had been frozen. At noon, Theo texted me two words: *He knows.* An hour later, another text arrived: *I was fired.* That night, Brandt came home, tossed his car keys onto the counter, and turned his phone screen toward me. “You were parked next to Theo’s car at Whataburger yesterday for forty minutes.” It was Life360. My location history was all there, clear as day. “You’re the one who insisted we install this,” he said. “You said you were afraid I’d get into a wreck.” “You froze my cards.” “You’ve been spending recklessly,” he said, opening the fridge and taking out a beer. “We’ll talk about this when you’ve calmed down.” “I’m going to Austin for a few days.” “No.” He turned and leaned against the refrigerator door, watching me. “You’re going to that shower on Saturday, and you’re going to stand there and smile. Ivy’s been planning it for two months.” “I’m not going.” “You’re not?” He laughed. “Then I’ll tell everyone that child isn’t mine. Guess who people will think is the disgrace.” I looked at him and, suddenly, I wanted to laugh. He was threatening me with his own sin. But I didn’t laugh. I was thirty-four weeks pregnant and high-risk. My doctor had me on weekly fetal monitoring. My OB-GYN was here. My records were here. I didn’t have a dollar to my name, and my lawyer couldn’t see me until Monday. *Just one afternoon,* I told myself. *Get through one afternoon, and on Monday, I’m gone.* That night, I went downstairs for a glass of water, and saw the printer in the study was still lit up. A sheet of paper lay in the output tray. Ivy had been coming by all week to set up for the shower, and she’d been using that printer. It was an invoice. *Noninvasive prenatal paternity test. Five alleged fathers. On-site collection. Service location: Preston Oaks Country Club, Men’s Grill Room. Saturday, 4:00 p.m.*

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Hozaay Reynolds Hayes — 2026 Must-Read Stories 🔞💥 Read Now👈
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2026 Must-Read Stories 🔞💥 Read Now👈

Stopped earlyStarted 3 days ago

Ran 0 days · stopped 7 Nov

TEMPORARY MATES, PERMANENT CRAVINGS

“A one-year contract. You have to be intimate with Alpha Cameron until you get pregnant. Then you leave with five hundred thousand tokens. No baby, no fuss." For my ailing mother and my little brother, I signed this contract. “Don’t fall in love with me, Lisa,” Cameron warned the second I lay beneath him, his voice rough against my skin. I laughed, breathless and bitter. I knew exactly what I was to him. A tool he could use to build his legacy and discard while returning to the mate he truly belonged to. This was never meant to be about love. But the moment he pushed into me, his wolf already knotted me tight, and my wolf's roar filled my head. "Mate!" One My father was screwing his secretary when I pushed his office door open. Wet slaps and grunts filled the room as he drove into her against the desk. My mother had spent three hours over the stove, squinting at a recipe she had memorized years ago. She packed my father's lunch and made me promise to watch him eat, since he was always busy. He had also left his phone at home. I never expected to walk in and find him bent over his desk, his wool slacks bunched around his th1ghs, buried deep in his secretary. The sight made me want to vomit. This was the man who had promised to be home more that weekend for their thirty-year anniversary dinner. His secretary looked toward the door, eyes widening. She gasped, her face turning a bright, guilty red. "Oh, sh1t, Lisa," she breathed. My father twisted around, flushed and sweating, not even pulling up his pants. "Lisa, wait—" I didn’t stay. I ran down the hallway, hit the elevator, and left his shouts behind as the doors closed. I reached my car, shoved the key into the ignition, and sped onto the highway, weaving through midday traffic before the shock hit. Then I felt his phone in my jacket pocket. I pulled over, grabbed it, and tried his birthday. Denied. His wedding date. Denied. I typed my mother’s name. It unlocked. That hurt more. He used her name as the key to his secrets. I opened his messages. The thread with his secretary stretched for months, filled with late-night photos and detailed $exual fantasies. I kept scrolling as the dates slipped into last year. I typed "divorce" into the search bar. The results loaded instantly. The lawyer says we can finalize the paperwork before the end of spring. I can’t wait to finally be with you properly. It was already mid-April. My grip tightened as I scrolled. I talked to the realtor today. The house should sell fast. Once it’s done, you can move into the new place with me. A fresh start. He wasn’t just leaving her. He was selling the house. My mother and brother, James, would have nowhere to go. Under pack law, the male head of household owned the property. We would end up in the welfare blocks at the edge of the territory. Another message: The kids will adjust. Lisa is twenty. James is seventeen. Maybe this will teach them some humility. They’ve had it too easy on my dime. My vision blurred as I took screenshots. He was a pack Beta. He would deny everything without proof. I drove back to the office, set the cooling lasagna and the phone on the front desk, and left before the receptionist could speak. By the time I reached my car, my phone buzzed in the cup holder. Mom: Sweetheart, can you pick up my prescription on your way back? The pharmacy called. I stared at the text. My mother's eyesight had been failing for a decade. She was legally blind, unable to see the faces of her own children clearly without powerful lenses. She had been a nurse at the pack hospital, a career she loved, but she had stepped down when the vision loss made it dangerous to work. She believed her husband was her protector. I sat in the car and watched the sun start to dip. My entire life, I had used my parents as the gold standard for love. He had been calculating his exit while she made his favorite meals. My phone buzzed again. It was my best friend, Sasha. Don’t forget the mandatory pack meeting tonight. I had heard the whispers about alliance talks with the Silver Creek Lycans, but I hadn't cared. Now, the message specified compulsory attendance for all unmarked females. I typed back: Found out my dad is having an affair. He’s selling the house and kicking us out. Sasha: WHAT??? Call me RIGHT NOW. Me: Can’t. I’ll explain later. I spent hours driving through the pack lands. When my mother asked where I was, I told her Luna Catherine needed help with errands. By nightfall, I reached the community center. My head throbbed. Inside, the room was packed. Alpha Marcus and Luna Catherine stood on the platform with their advisors. More than fifty unmated women filled the chairs. I found Sasha. She grabbed my hand and looked worried. “You okay?” she whispered. I said nothing. Alpha Marcus stepped to the microphone. The room fell silent. “Alpha Cameron of Silver Creek has agreed to an alliance with us,” he said. “In return, they require a temporary arrangement with an unmated female.” Whispers spread. “His mate cannot bear children. He needs an heir. He is requesting a one-year contract.” Luna Catherine stepped forward. “The contract is binding. The volunteer will move to Silver Creek, conceive, and carry the Alpha’s child. After birth, the child stays. The female returns home.” Shock rippled through the room. “In exchange,” Alpha Marcus said, “the volunteer receives full medical care, protection, and financial compensation.” “How much?” a girl asked. “Five hundred thousand tokens. Paid in installments,” Luna Catherine said. The room erupted. Five hundred thousand tokens was enough to buy a small estate and live comfortably for life. “This is crazy,” Sasha whispered, leaning into my ear. “They want someone to be a paid incubator for a Lycan and then just hand the baby over?” She was right. It was a cold deal. But the compensation was tempting enough to buy my mother a house in her own name, pay for her medical treatments or hire a full-time assistant for when her eyes failed completely. It would put James through the best university. We would never have to beg the pack for a place to sleep. My phone vibrated. It was a voice note from my mother. I held it to my ear. Her voice was broken, thick with tears. “Lisa… your father just came home. He’s packing a suitcase. He says he wants a divorce… that he’s been unhappy for years.” I heard her catch her breath, a jagged, wet sound. “He says the house is his. The money too. He told me I have thirty days to find a place. Lisa, I have nothing. I don't know where we are going to go.” The recording cut off with the sound of a door slamming in the background. I stared at the back of the chair in front of me. All I had to do was give up one year. Conceive. Carry. Deliver. Walk away. Sasha leaned toward me again. “Why would anyone do that? To carry a stranger’s child and just walk away?” “I’ll do it,” I said. Sasha stared at me. She let out a nervous laugh. “What? Did you hear them? You have to give birth and then just hand the baby to a man you don’t know.” “I heard.” “Lisa.” She gripped my bicep, her fingers digging in. “This isn't a job. This is your body. You can't just—” “I need the money, Sasha. I need to save my mother.” Sasha looked at me as if I were a stranger. She opened her mouth to protest again, but the words died in her throat. I ignored her and raised my hand high into the air. Two The wooden floor of the community center felt cold beneath my sandals. “I’ll volunteer.” A girl in the back row let out a loud snort. Beside me, Sasha’s hand clamped onto my wrist, her fingers digging into my skin to pull me back down. I did not look at her. I knew that if I met her eyes, the logic of her fear would break my resolve. I took a step into the center aisle. The silence of the room snapped into a buzzing heat of whispers. I reached the base of the wooden platform and locked my fingers together, squeezing them until the joints turned white to hide my trembling hands. Luna Catherine stared at me, her sharp eyes scanning my face with a flash of recognition. I had spent three years carrying her silk shopping bags and selecting her stationery. “Lisa Hartwell?” she asked. Her voice lacked the warmth she usually showed me. “Do you truly understand what you are volunteering for?” “Yes, Luna,” I said. “A one-year contract. I carry Alpha Cameron’s child and deliver the infant to him upon birth.” “My dear girl, this is not a romantic arrangement,” she said, her voice rising so the entire room could hear. “It is a binding contract with a Lycan Alpha. Once the first payment is issued, the law of both packs will prevent you from walking away. There is no clause for regret.” “I understand,” I replied. “You will relocate to Silver Creek for the duration of the pregnancy,” she continued. “You will live under the absolute authority of Alpha Cameron. That means leaving your family, your job, and the protection of this pack. You will be a guest in a foreign territory, bound by their rules.” A pinch of grief tightened my chest, but I did not blink. “I understand.” “And you are aware of the physical requirements,” she said, her gaze dropping to my midsection. “Conception will be handled through natural means. You would be expected to be intimate with Alpha Cameron until a physician confirms the pregnancy.” “I understand the terms,” I said. My voice was firmer now, fueled by desperation. A chair scraped against the floor behind me. Brianna, the daughter of Beta Castillian, rose from her seat. she smoothed her designer skirt and walked to the front with a smile. Another girl stood, then two more from the middle rows. By the time the movement stopped, ten of us stood in a straight line before Luna Catherine. “Does Alpha Cameron have a preference for specific physical traits?” Brianna asked. She did not look at the rest of us; she spoke as if the position were already hers. “He will evaluate each candidate personally,” Luna Catherine said. “Health is the primary concern. Bloodline and temperament follow. He requires a woman who is mentally capable of completing the contract and surrendering the child without a legal struggle.” “Medical screening begins tomorrow at eight in the morning,” Luna Catherine announced. She stood up, signaling the end of the meeting. “Alpha Cameron arrives in three days. He will conduct private interviews with each volunteer before making his final selection. Prepare yourselves accordingly.” The room dissolved into a chaos of scraping chairs and loud chatter. Brianna’s high-pitched laugh rang out as she told a friend that her father’s rank made her the only logical choice. I turned and walked toward the exit. Sasha caught up to me in the gravel parking lot. “What the he11 was that, Lisa? Are you losing your mind?” “I volunteered, Sasha. It is done.” She threw her hands up, her shadows dancing under the yellow parking lot lights. “Do you even hear yourself? You would sleep with a stranger, grow a person inside you for nine months, and then hand that baby over like it was a package delivery. You’re talking about selling your body.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. I hit play on my mother’s voice message and held it out between us. Sasha stood still as my mother’s trembling voice filled the space. The sound of her sobbing at the end of the recording was loud in the quiet night. When the audio stopped, Sasha’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “About your mom. About your dad being a monster. But Lisa, this is too much.” “It is the only thing that pays enough.” I opened the folder of screenshots I had taken from my father’s phone. I handed the device to her. She read the messages in silence. I watched her face darken as she read about the realtor, the mistress, and the plan to leave my brother and me in the welfare blocks. “That ba$tard,” she spat, handing the phone back. “He is erasing us,” I said. I slipped the phone into my pocket. “This contract buys my mother a house in her own name. It pays for James to finish his education. It gives us a life where we don't have to beg for pack scraps.” Sasha shook her head. “Lisa, a year with a Lycan Alpha? They aren't like us. They are cold. This will break you.” I opened my car door. “Maybe. But my family will be safe while I’m being put back together.” She stared at me, her eyes filling with tears. “He’d be a fool not to pick Brianna. She’s exactly what an Alpha looks for in a surrogate.” “Then I’ll be back to square one,” I said. “But I have to try.” Sasha stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. I squeezed her back, burying my face in her shoulder before pulling away. “If you do this,” she said, wiping her eyes, “I am staying by your side. And if he treats you badly—” “I’ll survive it,” I said. I got into the car and drove through the quiet streets. The house was dark, save for the flickering yellow light of the kitchen window. My father’s sedan was missing from the driveway. Inside, the air felt heavy. My mother sat at the kitchen table. Sheets of paper were fanned out in front of her, and she was leaning so close to the wood that her nose almost touched the pages, trying to make sense of the divorce filing through her clouded vision. Upstairs, the dull thud of James’s bass speakers vibrated through the ceiling. “Lisa? Is that you?” she called out. She sounded exhausted. “It’s me, Mom.” She stood up and met me in the doorway. Her eyes were red and swollen. She tried to pin a smile on her face, but it didn't reach her eyes. “How was the meeting at the center?” “It was fine. Just routine talk.” The fake smile vanished. “Are you hungry? I made that pasta you like. Nobody touched it.” “I’m okay, Mom. I’m just tired.” She nodded and shuffled back to the table. “Go check on your brother. He hasn't come out of his room since your father left.” I walked upstairs and knocked on James’s door. He cracked it open, his face masked in a bitter scowl. He didn't say a word, just turned and walked back to his desk. “Hey,” I said softly. “Are you doing okay?” “Does it look like I’m okay?” he snapped. He spun around, his eyes bright with anger. “He’s coming tomorrow morning to get the rest of his clothes. He said he’ll explain the 'financial transition' then.” “James, we’ll figure it out.” “I don’t want to talk about it, Lisa. Just leave me alone.” He slammed the door shut, the frame rattling. I went back downstairs and sat on the bottom step of the staircase. I pressed my palms together and stared at the front door. The reality of the choice sat in my gut. In three days, I would stand before a mighty Alpha and ask him to use my body to build his legacy. My phone buzzed. It was a message from an unlisted number. Tomorrow, 8 AM sharp. Medical screening and preparation briefing at the pack clinic. Do not be late. – Luna Catherine I typed a short reply: I’ll be there. My mother stepped into the hallway, her hand trailing along the wall for guidance. I stood up and took her hands in mine. “We are going to be fine,” I told her. “You still have me and you have James.” She pulled me into a hug, her head resting on my shoulder. “You are so strong, Lisa. You have always been stronger than I was.” “Good night, Mom.” I went to my bedroom and sat on the edge of my mattress. I pulled up my browser and typed a name into the search bar: Alpha Cameron, Silver Creek. The screen filled with articles about territory wars, business mergers, and aggressive pack expansions. There were no photos. Only descriptions from journalists and witnesses. I stared at the glowing screen and thought about the mate Luna Catherine had mentioned. I wondered about the woman who sat in a mansion in Silver Creek, waiting for a stranger to carry her husband’s child, and if she would hate me for being able to do the one thing she could not. Three CAMERON POV Rage tightened in my ribs, making breathing feel like an effort. I turned away from my sister and mate and leaned against the wall. "I won't do it. I have no interest in this absurd contract, and nothing you say will change my mind." Nadia stepped closer and placed her hand between my shoulders. "Cameron, please calm down. This is the only solution we've come up with." "Don't tell me to calm down, Nadia. You should have stopped this idea from even reaching Evangeline." Behind her, Evangeline coughed so hard it echoed throughout the room. Nadia immediately turned and took her hand. Machines hummed near the bed, tubes piercing the covers and disappearing into Evangeline's arm. Her shoulders slumped onto the pillows as Nadia glanced at me. "We know it’s awful. We’ve been putting it off for months, hoping another solution would present itself. The Council is starting to spread rumors. Without an heir before the winter session, they can force a vote of succession. If that happens, the crown will go to the next claimant to the throne, and Matthias is already campaigning for it. He’s been waiting for this moment since Father died. Are you really going to let that beast take the throne after everything he’s done to you?" I remained silent as the familiar anger burned in my chest. The Council, Parliament, all those old ba$tards coveting the crown that weighed on my shoulders. "Without an heir, they’ll contest your right to rule," Nadia continued. "They’ll never recognize a child conceived through medical means. The blood ritual takes place at conception. Without this ritual, the Council will reject the child." Evangeline lay propped against the pillows, the machines beside her maintaining their steady rhythm. The illness had drained her of all color and so weakened her inner wolf that a pregnancy would be fatal. She raised a trembling hand toward me. "Cameron... darling." I stepped away from the wall and across the room. Her fingers closed around my wrist. "Nothing changes between us," she said, her voice weak, ravaged by the illness. "It's still you and me. Just because we hire someone to carry a child doesn't make that disappear." "You say it like it's a mere formality," I retorted. "I should sleep with her." Tears welled in her eyes as she struggled to her feet. "I hate that we have to do this, but I want to. If you love me, then understand that sacrifices are necessary." A raucous laugh escaped me. "You hate this, and the solution is for me to sleep with another woman while you’re here, hooked up to machines." "The priestess can suspend the bond for the ritual. It’s ancient magic. I agreed to it months ago. You’re the one still resisting." "You have trouble sitting up," I said. "And you want me to risk breaking the bond and making your condition worse?" She swallowed and caught her breath. "It’s temporary. My mother will oversee everything. The girl will come from my pack, a trusted person who knows the rules. The Council won’t be able to accuse you of manipulation. This preserves the alliance’s neutrality." Her fingers tightened around mine. "Please, Cam. Do it for me." Her voice broke, and she looked away, fighting back tears. "Even if I’m not here to see the child, at least I’ll know the throne is secure. I’ll know you’re safe." I took her hand in mine. "You’re not dying. Stop talking like that." She offered a weary smile. "This illness isn’t a polite guest." "So let’s fight it and defeat it." "If you want to make me happy, do it. Secure the throne. Forget what seems right or wrong to you and think of the pack." My life has never known long periods of calm. Battles followed one after another. Evangeline's illness, the Council surrounding the throne, Matthias waiting for me to make a mistake. I stared at the machines by the bed, the thin line rising and falling on the screen. The throne could burn and the Council suffocate under the weight of its laws, but if I lost control, Matthias would take everything, as promised. "Very well," I said. "I will." Nadia breathed a sigh of relief. "But only once," I warned. "Only once. If that isn't enough, you'll be responsible. And if the binding ritual harms Evangeline, I don't care what the Council says. I'll tear the contract to shreds." Tears welled in Evangeline's eyes as Nadia, leaning against the table, crossed her arms. "You’ll have to go see my parents’ pack. There are volunteers. My mother has collected their names." "That won’t be necessary. Your mother can choose whomever she wants. I don’t need to meet them." Nadia frowned. "That’s a terrible idea." "I’m not choosing a wife," I said. "I’m choosing a womb." "Cameron," Evangeline said gently. "Please don’t be stubborn." I looked away from the bed. The thought of standing in a room full of women who knew why I was there gave me goosebumps. Choosing one would mean looking at her and deciding that she was the one I would touch, and that’s how it had all started with my father. "That’s not the point," I said. "The priestess will test the compatibility before the rite," Evangeline replied. "You’ll have to meet her sooner or later." "I promise I’ll never hold it against you." Her thumb slowly caressed my hand. "You and I love each other. That won’t change. The contract brings in more than most families earn in a lifetime, and the surrogate mother relinquishes all parental rights." The idea still seemed inconceivable to me. Worse than the idea of another woman was the possibility that the Council might be right. A throne without an heir was a throne just waiting to be usurped. A fleeting memory flashed through my mind. Nadia and I had been born of a similar arrangement. Our father’s marriage had never recovered, and we had grown up under the weight of his wife’s bitterness. That memory weighed heavily on my chest. I looked down at Evangeline’s fragile hand clasping mine and made a silent promise. Whoever that woman was, she would always be a stranger. Foreign women are easier to forget. She would be nothing more than a contract, and after the child was born, she would have no place in my life or pack. Four LISA POV The digital numbers on my alarm clock glowed a steady red. I watched them tick by from 5:59 to 6:00. My skin felt cold, and a dull ache rested at the back of my eyes after spending the night awake. I could hear the muffled sound of the television. I headed for the door. The living room was bathed in the blue light of the TV. My mother sat in her armchair, huddled under a thick wool blanket. She stared at the screen, even though I knew the images were probably just colored blobs to her. It was an old sitcom we used to watch on Sunday nights, when the house felt so solid. Now she sat there in the dark, before the sun had even risen. She didn't turn her head as I walked by. She simply pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. I went into the bathroom and turned the shower on to the hottest setting. I stood under the spray until my skin flushed pink. I dressed in dark jeans and a gray sweater. The drive to the pack's house was punctuated by the sound of the wind hitting the windshield. I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my palms went numb. When I stepped through the front doors of the lobby, the atmosphere was different. The energy of the women from the previous night was gone. There were only four of us left in the main hall. Brianna was there, looking like she'd stepped out of a magazine. She was wearing a cream pantsuit that suited her perfectly. Her red lipstick was flawless, and her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun. Melissa and Natasha stood nearby, talking in hushed tones. Brianna's gaze lingered on me before she looked away. She didn't nod. To her, I was just background noise. Luna Catherine appeared in the side corridor. She held a notepad and pen. She looked at us one by one, her gaze lingering on my tired face before she checked a box on her sheet. "Medical exam first," she said. "You'll be seen individually. As soon as we have the results, we'll discuss the schedule for the next three days." She called out names alphabetically. When she reached mine, she indicated a small office with frosted glass. I followed her inside. She closed the door and sat down behind a desk. She didn't offer me a seat. "I'll be blunt, Lisa. You're at a disadvantage here." "I know," I said. She raised her head. "What I mean is, Brianna has been groomed for leadership since childhood. Her father dines with Lycan dignitaries twice a year. Melissa is fluent in three languages and has spent weeks studying the Silver Creek hierarchy. Natasha's mother is a high-level healer. She knows better than any of you how to handle a difficult pregnancy." I kept my hands at my sides. I didn't interrupt her. I let the silence settle between us until she spoke again. "But you've worked for me for three years," she said. "You know when to keep quiet. You know how to keep a secret. You've learned to assess a situation and blend into the background. You understand discretion in a way others don’t." Luna Catherine opened a manila file. "Alpha Cameron doesn’t want a wife. He wants an arrangement. He needs someone who treats this like a job. Someone who will bear the heir, hand over the child, and leave without a fuss." She stood up and walked around the desk until she was inches from me. "Can you do that? Even when the pack judges you? Even alone in a territory that sees you as an outsider? Even when the Alpha looks at you like you don’t exist?" I thought of the bank statements. I thought back to my mother's near blindness. I thought of my father's cruel unfaithfulness. "Yes," I said. "Are you sure?" I nodded. She stared at me, then nodded toward the door. "The medical exam is in room three. The Alpha won't waste his time with a candidate who isn't physically perfect. Go." The examination was clinical. A nurse drew four tubes of blood. My height, weight, and h1p width were measured. An ultrasound was used to examine my ovaries, and I was asked about a hundred questions regarding my family's medical history. I felt like a machine being inspected for a malfunction. As I walked back into the hallway, I almost bumped into Brianna. She was coming out of her own exam. She didn't say a word, but her shoulder brushed mine as she passed me. I went back to Luna Catherine's office. She looked up from her papers. "Your results are good," she said. "You're healthy and fertile. There are no genetic markers that would concern a line of werewolves. You're a viable candidate." I nodded. "The next three days are for preparation," she added. "Cameron’s pack is in a dangerous position. Some people in his territory want him to fail. If you’re chosen, you won’t just be carrying a baby. You’ll be carrying a political shield. The pressure will be immense." "I can handle the pressure," I said. "Cameron isn’t a soft touch," she warned me. "He does it out of necessity. Don’t expect any gentleness." "The cold doesn’t bother me," I said. "It’s easier to leave when it’s cold." She managed a smile. The next 48 hours were a whirlwind of learning. We discovered the borders of Silver Creek, the names of influential families, and the specific laws regarding surrogacy on their lands. I filled a notebook, memorizing every detail. On the evening of the second day, I picked up my dress from the dry cleaners. It was dark forest green, with a high neck and long sleeves. It was fitted and flowy at the h1ps. I slipped it on and stood in front of my full-length bedroom mirror. I looked like a determined woman, even though my heart was pounding. On the third morning, my phone lit up on my nightstand. Cameron's convoy just arrived. Be at the pack house in one hour. – Luna Catherine My fingers trembled as I typed a reply. I turned back to the mirror to fix my hair and tie it into a low bun. There was a soft knock at the door. My mother came in. She looked small in her oversized sweater. "You look beautiful, Lisa. Why are you dressed like that?" I turned to her. "There's an opportunity with the pack, Mom. A contract that will allow us to buy a house. We'll be able to pay for James's college education. We'll be able to pay for the best eye doctors for you." She approached, her brows furrowed. "What kind of contract?" I told her everything. I told her about the five hundred thousand tokens. "Lisa… no." Her voice broke, and she gripped my arm. "I can’t let you do this. You’re selling a year of your life." "I’m buying our future," I said. I took her hands. "Dad’s gone, Mom. He’s selling the house. If I don’t do this, we’ll end up as a liability. I won’t let that happen to you." Tears streamed down her face, wetting her cheeks. "It’s a stranger’s child. This is madness. I don’t want you to waste your life because your father is a coward." "He's the one who messed everything up. I’m fixing things." I hugged her tightly. I could feel her bones through her sweater. When I pulled away, James was standing in the doorway. "Dad’s already gone," he said in a monotone voice. "And now you’re going too." "James, it’s for a year. I’ll be back before you even graduate." He let out a harsh laugh. "Is it about the money? Or do you just want to get us apart?" "It’s to keep us from ending up on the street," I replied sharply. "I need you to stay here and take care of Mom. I’ll be back." He didn’t reply. He turned and went back to his room, slamming the door. The noise echoed through the silent house. I looked at the clock. I had thirty minutes left. I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. Somewhere in the pack's house, a man I had never met was waiting to decide the rest of my life. Five The Alpha house felt like I was entering it for the first time. Maids walked past me. Guards were posted at every corner, their eyes scanning the corridors. One thing was clear. Alpha Cameron was in the building. The four of us were in the main corridor like a line of silent competitors. Brianna had chosen a designer dress. The fabric, a deep creamy white, gave her skin a porcelain sheen. Melissa stood by the railing, dressed in navy blue velvet, her hair pinned up it seemed her neck was in pain. Natasha wore a short black dress and heels that clicked on the floor with each step. I smoothed the green fabric over my h1ps and kept my hands at my sides. There was no point in comparing. This wasn't a contest. Brianna turned Melissa, her voice a high-pitched whisper. "Nervous?" Melissa offered a tight smile. "You should be." Natasha crossed her arms. "I just want this to be over." The silence fell again, even heavier. Luna Catherine approached us, her gaze taking in every detail. She reached out and tugged Melissa's sleeve down, then smoothed a stray strand of hair over Natasha's shoulder. When she reached me, she raised her hand and adjusted the crease in my collar. She stood near me, lowering her voice so that I was the only one who could hear her. "Remember the exercises," she said. "Don't ramble. If you show them you’re scared, they’ll think you’re too weak for a pregnancy.” I nodded. “Lisa,” she added, her fingers lingering on my shoulder. “The others are living in a fairy tale. They think an Alpha will fall for them because they’re pretty. You’re the only one who understands the true nature of the contract. Use that.” The heavy double doors at the end of the corridor opened. A Lycan guard stepped out. Larger than the warriors in our pack, his chest filled out his dark suit. He held a piece of paper in his gloved hand. “Alpha Cameron is ready,” he announced. “Brianna Castillian, over.” Brianna straightened her shoulders, and headed toward the room. We all waited. I watched the second hand of the wall clock tick slowly. The minutes felt like hours. My pulse pounded. When the door finally opened, Brianna stepped out. Her face was composed, but her fingers trembled as she clutched her purse. "Melissa." Melissa disappeared inside. She stayed there even longer. When she returned, she looked down, her lips moving as if she were rehearsing each word she had spoken. "Natasha." Natasha's interview was the shortest. She walked past us and headed straight for the exit without stopping to say goodbye. The guard looked at me. "Lisa." I stood up. My knees felt like they were going to buckle, but I forced myself to move forward. I passed Luna Catherine, who gave me an encouraging nod. "Breathe," she whispered. I opened the heavy door. The room was cold. The walls were paneled in dark oak, and tall windows let in the pale morning light. The air was thick with the scent of expensive tobacco. Three people surrounded a massive desk. Alpha Cameron sat in the center. He wasn't the man I'd imagined. I'd expected someone older, perhaps with graying hair and a paunch. Instead, he looked young and hard. He was tall, probably six foot four, with shoulders that stretched his dark coat. His hair was black, and his eyes were a piercing gray, marked by fatigue. He looked like a man who had forgotten how to sleep. To his right stood a giant—his Beta. To his left was a beautiful woman with the same sharp eyes as Alpha Cameron's. “Have a seat,” the woman said. I stepped across the rug and sat down in the leather armchair. It creaked under my weight. All three of them looked at me in silence. Cameron looked at me like a carpenter examining a piece of wood, searching for the slightest crack or imperfection. “Your medical results are perfect,” the woman said, opening my file. “Why are you here, Lisa? Why did you volunteer?” I had spent the morning rehearsing a speech about loyalty to the pack. But seeing the coldness in Cameron’s eyes, the lie stuck in my throat. “My family needs money,” I said. “My father left us penniless. This contract offers a sum that secures my mother’s future. In exchange, I give you a year of my life and a child. It’s a fair deal.” The Beta glanced at the woman. "Is that your only reason?" she asked. "Just for the money?" "Yes." "The other girls were talking about duty," the woman said. "They were talking about the honor of serving an Alpha. Doesn't honor matter to you?" "I want my mother to have a roof over her head. I want my brother to continue his education. Honor doesn't pay the rent." The Beta lowered his eyes, his mouth tight as if he were holding back a laugh. Cameron didn't speak. "You understand the conditions," the woman continued. "One year in Silver Creek. You will live in the Alpha's house, under constant supervision. Conception will occur naturally. Once born, the child will remain with Alpha Cameron. You will relinquish all your rights." "You'll come back here and you'll never see the child again. Do you understand?" "I understand." "There will be no romance," she said sharply. "No dates. No flowers. You're here on a mission. Can you accept that?" "Yes." She turned a page from the file. "You're twenty years old. You've never been pregnant." "That's right." "This process will change you," she said. "It will be painful, and you'll feel alone. Are you ready to face the isolation?" I nodded. She closed the file and looked at Cameron. He spoke for the first time. His voice, deep and raspy, seemed to vibrate in the room. "The others have better families. They are more educated. They know how to speak to my people. What makes you the right choice?” I remembered Luna’s words. I gazed into his gray eyes. “Because I won’t fall in love with you,” I said. “The others want a husband. I just want the contract. I’ll do exactly as I’m told, and when the year is over, I’ll leave without a fuss.” He stood and walked to the window, his back to me. He gazed at the trees for a long time. “If he chooses you, you’ll leave tomorrow morning,” the woman said. “There won’t be time for long goodbyes.” “I’ll be ready,” I replied. The Beta stepped to the door and opened it. “Thank you for your time. We’ll convey the decision to Luna Catherine this evening.” I got up and left. The air in the hallway felt warm, unlike the air in the office. I walked past the other girls without looking at them and went straight to my car. I got behind the wheel and finally exhaled. My ribs ached. I started the engine and drove home, waiting for a phone call that would either save my family or leave us destitute.

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Hidden Hearts — TEMPORARY MATES, PERMANENT CRAVINGS
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TEMPORARY MATES, PERMANENT CRAVINGS

Stopped earlyStarted 3 days ago

Ran 0 days · stopped 7 Nov

🚗✨ No Sticky Glue. No Wobbly Mounts. Just a Smarter Drive! 🧲 😩 Tired of phone holders that leave sticky marks on your dashboard? 📱 Struggling with shaky mounts that make navigation difficult on bumpy roads? 💡 Discover the Magnetic Car Screen Phone Mount — a sleek, adhesive-free solution designed to keep your phone securely positioned while protecting your car's display! 🧲 INSTANT MAGNETIC HOLD — Attach and remove your phone effortlessly with a convenient one-touch magnetic design. 🔒 NO-ADHESIVE CORNER CLAMP — Securely attaches to compatible car screen corners without glue, tape, or sticky residue. 🛡️ SOFT SILICONE PROTECTION — 5mm protective padding helps prevent scratches and direct metal contact with your display. 🔄 FLEXIBLE VIEWING ANGLES — Adjustable pivoting arm lets you position your phone for convenient navigation. 💪 STABLE, REINFORCED DESIGN — Tightening knobs help minimise shaking and keep the mount firmly positioned. 🔧 QUICK 3-STEP INSTALLATION — Position, clamp, and tighten! Designed for compatible Model 3/Y centre screens and 10–15mm thick flat displays. 🌟 ONE SMART MOUNT, MORE EVERYDAY CONVENIENCE! 🗺️ GPS Navigation → 🚗 Daily Commutes → 🛣️ Road Trips → 📱 Hands-Free Phone Positioning 💫 No Messy Adhesive. Less Shaking. A Cleaner, Smarter Dashboard. 🛍️ Upgrade your driving setup — discover your new magnetic car phone mount at Moonighty® today! 👇 https://moonighty.com/products/magne2 #CarPhoneMount #MagneticPhoneHolder #Moonighty #CarAccessories #DashboardAccessories #CarGadgets #DrivingEssentials #SmartCarAccessories #PhoneMount

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🚗✨ No Sticky Glue

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Ran 0 days · stopped 7 Nov

🚗 No More Wobbly Phone Mounts!

🚗 Still Dealing With Wobbly Car Phone Mounts? 😩 Say goodbye to shaky holders, bulky clips, and annoying vent mounts! This Magnetic Car Phone Holder is designed to make every drive more convenient. 🧲 Featuring 6 powerful built-in magnets, it keeps your phone securely attached while the adjustable 360° rotating arm lets you find the perfect viewing angle for navigation. ✨ Made with premium zinc alloy, a soft silicone protective pad, and a clever fold-flat design, it looks sleek on your dashboard and folds away neatly when not in use. 📱 No bulky clamps, no blocked air vents, and no complicated adjustments! Perfect for daily commutes, road trips, and everyday driving. 🙌 A smarter way to keep your phone within easy view. Upgrade your car today!

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Sarah FontaineFacebookInstagram

🚗 No More Wobbly Phone Mounts!

Stopped earlyStarted 4 days ago

Ran 0 days · stopped 6 Nov

Traditional vent / suction‑cup phone holders force you to look far away from the road. Taking eyes off driving is extremely dangerous. This foldable 1080° adjustable sun‑visor phone mount solves the safety pain‑point. Multi‑joint 1080° adjustment combined with full 360° rotation brings your phone closer to eye‑line. Simple tool‑free clip‑on onto sun visor. Anti‑slip silicone padding keeps phone stable through bumpy roads. Switch vertical / horizontal freely. Fold flat to stay out of your sightline. Works in‑car and at home for streaming & tutorials. ⚠️Note: Comply with local traffic regulations. Never block driver’s main view. Avoid heavy impact & long‑term high‑temperature sun exposure. Not fit for extra‑thick bulky phone cases. Limited‑time discount. Grab bundle deals, free‑shipping for orders of 3 or more. 👉Shop now for safer hands‑free driving navigation! #SafeDrivingGear #CarPhoneMount #AutoEssential

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Traditional vent / suction‑cup phone holders force you to look far away from the road

Stopped earlyStarted 7 days ago

Ran 1 day · stopped 4 Nov