My brain couldn’t process that fast enough. I was still trying to understand the first baby. I was still trying to understand pregnancy, mating, Alpha dick, heat, and now you’re telling me there might be two? Tears were streaming down my face but my brain was flying in fifty directions. I felt nauseous. I felt hot. I felt dizzy. I felt every possible emotion all at once. “What if one of them is sick?” I whispered, voice so small it didn’t sound like mine. “What if one is okay and the other one isn’t? What if one dies? Will the other survive? What if—what if—” “What if I’m too young? What if my body can’t do it? What if I did something wrong already and I didn’t even know it? What if my stress is hurting them? What if screaming right now is making it worse? What if I lose one? Or both? Or all of them? What if I wasn’t supposed to be pregnant yet and now the universe is like HAHA, bitch, good luck surviving this?” “Lyra,” the doctor said. “I need you to calm down, okay? I kno
~Lyra~ Something’s wrong with the baby. No. No. No. No. No. That’s not something you just say. That’s not something you say like you’re commenting on the weather or asking if I’ve been nauseous. You don’t press your stupid, gloved hand on my belly and say that something is wrong like it’s just a normal fucking Tuesday. What the fuck does that even mean? What is wrong? What do you feel? Why aren’t you saying anything? Why are you pressing and pausing and blinking like you didn’t just rip my entire chest open with five fucking words? And why is Damon so still? I can’t look at him. I can’t. I didn’t even know how bad I wanted this until she said something might be wrong. I didn’t know how much I loved the tiny thing growing inside me until I felt my entire body curl inward, like I could wrap around my stomach and keep it safe just by thinking hard enough. I’d do anything. I’d bleed out for this child. I’d die if it meant keeping it safe. “What’s wrong with my baby?
Lyra wasn’t speaking. She was silent. Still. Breathing fast, skin flushed and her cheeks were burning. She didn’t say a word. But I could feel her trembling. Not with fear. With arousal. She liked this. She loved this. She loved the way I was claiming her in front of someone else. She loved the way I was growling about her slick like it was currency. She loved the way my cock was throbbing beneath my slacks while I told a doctor EVERTHING. “I don’t need to be excused,” I said, my tone was final now. “I need you to carry out your job. And I will stand right here while you do it.” The doctor swallowed her reply, nodded stiffly, and turned back to Lyra. She resumed the exam. Her hands were careful now. But I wasn’t watching her anymore. I was watching Lyra. And I knew what she needed. She needed me. She needed to be punished for letting another hand wake up her body. She needed to be bent over the bed, blouse ripped open, ass shoved to the side, a
~Damon~ The doctor is here. Now I know y’all might be wondering how I killed Camilla. Well she’s dead. And no, I don’t feel guilty. Not in the way people expect. You want to know if I feel good about it? The part of me tho. Just a little. Maybe I feel good that she’s gone. That her voice won’t be polluting the air around my Omega. That she won’t get to put her poison anywhere near Lyra, or near the child growing inside her. But my wolf? He doesn’t just feel good. He feels fucking satisfied. Like a beast curled up next to a fresh kill. Like nothing else matters now that the threat is gone. My wolf doesn’t do guilt. He does instincts. And his instincts told him to protect Lyra, no matter the cost. Now I have to figure out how the fuck I’m going to explain to Tasha why her mother has gone missing. But that’s not what matters right now. That is so far down the list of priorities I can’t even see it. Because the only thing I care about in this moment is the girl sit
My entire soul left my body. I felt it. I felt it float right out of my spine, up to the ceiling, look down at us, and whisper you’re so fucked, before vanishing completely. My pussy clenched so hard I saw stars. My nipples hardened instantly. I whimpered, actually whimpered like I’d just been hit with a spell. “Okay,” I said quickly, throwing my hands up in surrender, which was hilarious because I was already trembling and struggling to sit still. “Okay. I give up. You win. I’ll be good. I’ll behave.” He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me, and his expression made my stomach flip. His eyes were wild but focused. His lips were parted just a little, and his grip on my thigh was still strong. I felt like I was being hunted while sitting perfectly still, trying not to get eaten. “You’ll behave now?” he asked, his tone completely unreadable. “Yes,” I replied, nodding so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. “I promise. I’ll be quiet. No more roleplay. No more teas
~Lyra~ “I’m creative,” I said with a grin that could’ve gotten me suspended from school and excommunicated from church. “And also very committed to your academic success, Mr. Thornvale.” I dragged my fingers slowly up his chest as I said it, watching the way his body reacted beneath my touch. Every muscle in him tightened like I was pulling strings in all the right places. His jaw clenched. His eyes darkened. His breath came slower and heavier like he was already imagining everything I hadn’t even said yet. And honestly, that just encouraged me. Because I could feel it in the air—that slow, dangerous kind of heat building between us, thick and heavy, the kind that makes your chest rise too fast and your thighs press together on instinct. But I wasn’t done. Of course not. I never am. “In fact,” I continued, tilting my head and giving him my most innocent, most untrustworthy smile, “I think it’s really important for struggling students to receive… personal tutoring. One-on