My Daughter, Alpha's Heir

Ava

In a world where werewolves held dominion, being human meant navigating a landscape of prejudice, fleeting employment, and relentless struggle.

“Your services are no longer required. A werewolf will be assuming your duties.”

“May I ask why?” I inquired, my voice steady despite the sinking feeling in my stomach. “I’ve cared for your child for three years. I understand I’m human, but my performance has always been exemplary-”

“That is precisely the reason,” Mr. Cooper stated bluntly. “My son is nearing the age of his first shift. Having a human influence during this critical period could potentially impede the awakening of his wolf. It’s a risk I cannot take.”

A sharp pang of disappointment lanced through me. “I see…”

“Ava…” Mr. Cooper’s tone softened marginally. “This isn’t personal. My wife and son are both fond of you. But you must see it from our perspective-”

“Of course. I understand completely.” I rose, straightening the hem of my simple dress. “A pup’s formative years are crucial. Any external factor could affect their connection to their wolf.”

Mr. Cooper gave a curt nod, motioning toward the study door while mumbling about final compensation. I held my head high and turned, exiting the room without further comment.

Mrs. Cooper was waiting in the grand hallway, her expression a mixture of apology and discomfort. She hurried forward, pressing a crisp white envelope into my hands.

“We truly valued everything you did for our family these past years,” she murmured. “I know you’re raising your daughter alone, with those medical bills… so I took the liberty of writing you a reference. For your next position.”

I forced a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Cooper.”

She let out a weary sigh. “I am sorry about my husband’s… views, Miss Brooks. It isn’t fair.”

How magnanimous, I thought, but kept the polite smile firmly in place. Smiling was the last thing I felt like doing when the weight of rent, debt, and providing for my six-year-old daughter pressed down on me, but options were a luxury I couldn’t afford.

This was the unspoken rule of our society. Humans and werewolves coexisted, but equality was a fiction. We existed on their sufferance.

Finding another job would be a battle.

Just then, the little boy I’d watched grow from a babe came toddling into the hall, his face a picture of confusion.

“Ava! No go!” he cried, latching onto my legs.

My heart constricted. I knelt, wrapping him in a tight hug and planting kisses on his soft cheeks. “I have to, sweetheart. You be a good, strong boy for your new nanny, okay?”

His lower lip trembled, and a wail erupted from him. The new nanny, a stunning young woman with sleek dark hair and perceptive eyes, appeared and smoothly gathered him into her arms, her gaze sliding over me as if I were part of the furniture.

His cries faded as she carried him off, distracted by the promise of a treat.

I turned back to Mrs. Cooper, whose eyes were suspiciously bright.

“The Blackwood Manor is seeking a nanny,” she said, nodding toward the envelope in my hand. “If you present this there, it might give you a chance. They’re conducting interviews today.”

Blackwood Manor. The name alone sent a jolt through me. The residence of Alpha Liam Blackwood. I’d never seen the man—he maintained a reclusive, powerful presence—but rumors painted him as ruthless, detached, and fiercely protective of his pack. A man like that would never employ a human.

I nodded my thanks and moved toward the front door. “I do hope you get it,” Mrs. Cooper’s voice followed me out. I waved a final goodbye, but internally, I was crumbling.

At twenty-eight, life had already demanded more than its fair share. Six years ago, on the eve of my daughter’s birth, I’d discovered my husband’s infidelity.

Benjamin had been with his mistress while I was in labor.

The divorce was swift. I raised Sophia alone. But she was born frail, her early years a blur of hospital visits and specialized treatments that drained every resource.

By some miracle, she stabilized around age three. But the financial ruin remained, a mountain of debt for a single mother. Being human in a werewolf-centric city like Portland made securing stable, well-paid work a near-impossible feat.

I’d found some footing as a teacher in a human daycare, though the pay was meager and hours inconsistent. Then I’d transitioned to nannying for affluent werewolf families. For a while, it worked—until it didn’t.

Boarding the bus home, I used the last of my change for the fare. I opened the reference letter, scanning Mrs. Cooper’s elegant script. It was kind, effusive even. A small spark of fragile hope flickered.

Thinking of Sophia’s trusting face, I knew I had to try. Time was a currency I was running out of; the next debt collection notice was due soon, and rent was already late.

Pulling out my phone, I navigated to the Blackwood Manor’s official site. The job listing was prominent, and to my surprise, it indicated walk-in applications and interviews were being held today.

Hardly daring to breathe, I stayed on the bus past my usual stop, riding instead toward the hill that overlooked Portland, crowned by the imposing silhouette of Blackwood Manor. The bus eventually halted at a secluded stop near the base of the hill, where several other women—all unmistakably werewolves with an aura of grace and strength—disembarked.

I followed the group up the winding driveway, my breath catching as the manor fully revealed itself. It was even more formidable in person: ancient stone walls, towering turrets, and vast, lead-paned windows that surveyed the immaculate grounds below.

A werewolf guard stood sentry at the wrought-iron gate. He stopped me as I approached. “Name and business?” he asked, a question he hadn’t posed to the she-wolves ahead of me.

“Ava Brooks. I’m here to apply for the nanny position.”

The guard’s nostrils flared almost imperceptibly. “Alpha Blackwood… has particular standards. He runs this city. I doubt he’d consider a human for a role caring for his child.”

“The listing doesn’t specify species as a disqualification,” I replied, keeping my voice level.

He hesitated, then with a slight shrug, swung the gate open. Squaring my shoulders, I walked past him and up the grand steps to the massive oak door.

It was true. Alpha Liam Blackwood was Portland. The city and its surrounding territories were his pack lands, his responsibility. Humans lived here under a fragile peace, but ultimate power rested with the wolves, and especially with their Alpha.