LOGINThree weeks of feeling like a stranger in his own body, and Liam still hadn't let himself say the word out loud.
He'd blamed the exhaustion on stress. Blamed the nausea on skipped meals and too much coffee on an empty stomach. Blamed the way certain smells turned his stomach on nothing more than bad luck. There was always something to blame that wasn't the truth, and he'd reached for every single one of them.
"You look like death," Zara said, sliding into the seat across from him at the café near his apartment. "Actual, walking death."
"Thank you." Liam pushed his coffee away. Even the smell of it made something in his stomach turn now.
"I'm serious. When's the last time you slept properly?"
"I sleep."
"That's not what I asked."
He didn't answer, and that was answer enough.
Zara studied him for a long moment, her teasing falling away into something more careful. "Liam. When's your heat supposed to start?"
"Any day now, I think." He rubbed at his temple. "Why?"
"Because it's late."
He blinked at her. "What?"
"You track it. You always track it. You told me last month it'd hit around now." She leaned forward, voice dropping. "It hasn't."
Liam opened his mouth to argue and found nothing there.
She was right. He hadn't noticed. He'd been so consumed by the stolen track, by Zara's plans and Jason Blake's name trending across every platform, that he hadn't paid attention to the one thing his body had never once let him ignore.
"That's probably just stress," he said, though it sounded thinner out loud than it had in his head.
Zara's expression didn't change. Neither of them believed it.
***
The hospital waiting room was too bright and too quiet, the kind of quiet that made every thought feel louder than it should.
This is nothing, Liam told himself, hands pressed flat against his knees. Stress does this. It's normal.
The longer he sat there, the harder that got to believe.
"Liam Carter?"
He followed the nurse down a narrow hallway into a small room, and the doctor who came in was efficient, calm, asking questions in the practiced tone of someone who'd asked them a thousand times before.
Symptoms. Duration. Last heat cycle.
Liam answered each one, his voice sounding like it belonged to someone else.
"We'll run a few tests," the doctor said. "It won't take long."
It felt endless anyway.
When the doctor came back, his face gave nothing away, and somehow that was worse than any expression could have been.
"Mr. Carter." He set the folder down. "You're pregnant."
The words landed strangely, like they'd been spoken in a language Liam almost understood but not quite.
"…What?"
"You're pregnant," the doctor repeated, gentler this time. "About five weeks."
Five weeks. The number hit him before the meaning did. Five weeks ago, the bar, the whiskey, the alpha with the steady gaze and the scent that had wrapped around him like something inevitable. The empty pillow. The name he'd never asked for.
"That's not…" Liam's voice cracked. "That's not possible."
"I understand this is a shock." The doctor's tone stayed level. "But the results are clear."
Liam's hands curled into fists in his lap.
He didn't know the father's name. Didn't know how to find him. Didn't know anything except the ghost of a scent that still surfaced sometimes, uninvited.
"Mr. Carter." The doctor's voice dropped, more serious now. "I need to be direct with you about something."
Liam braced himself.
"As an omega, a pregnancy like this carries risks beyond the physical. Your body will need stability from your child's alpha, their presence, their pheromones. Without that, things can become difficult. Heat cycles especially. They may intensify, and no other alpha's pheromones will ease them. Only the father's."
The words settled over him like something cold.
"And if I don't know who that is?" His voice came out barely above a whisper. The doctor's silence answered before he did.
"Then you'll need to prepare yourself," he said quietly, "for a pregnancy that will be significantly harder than most."
***
Liam didn't remember much of the walk home. The city moved around him in a blur of sound and color that felt disconnected from everything happening inside him.
He stopped outside his building, staring up at his own window like it belonged to someone else's life. A hand pressed instinctively against his stomach.
He didn't know this man. Didn't know his name, his family, his life beyond a few unguarded hours in a dim, loud bar, but somehow, a part of that man already existed because of that night.
Liam closed his eyes and breathed, trying to steady the storm building in his chest.
He thought about telling Zara. About the doctor's warning. About heat cycles that would only get worse, with no relief in sight.
Then, quietly, something inside him hardened.
He had survived being overlooked. Survived betrayal. Survived being left without even a name to hold onto. He would survive this too. Alone, if he had to.
He pushed off the wall and walked inside, already building the walls he'd need to carry it by himself.
The hearing room was smaller than Liam had imagined, a long table at the front for the board, rows of wooden benches behind, and a single microphone that every speaker had to lean toward like a confession booth.He sat in the second row with Ethan on one side and Zara on the other, Adam standing near the door out of old habit. Victoria had come too, upright and composed in a charcoal suit, her hands folded in her lap. Chloe sat two rows behind them with her father, who had, to everyone’s surprise, agreed to attend.Daniel entered last.He walked down the center aisle alone, without a lawyer, without the small entourage that had always trailed him into rooms like this one. Liam watched people notice. Heads turned. A journalist near the back sat up straighter.Daniel took the seat on the other side of Victoria, and she didn’t look at him, but her hand reached over and rested on his sleeve for exactly one second before withdrawing.It was the most public thing Liam had ever seen either o
Ethan showed Liam the letter that same evening, before dinner, before he’d even taken his coat off.He didn’t soften it. He didn’t wait for a better moment or decide on his own how much Liam could carry. He put the paper on the kitchen table and said, “This came today. I don’t know what it means. I wanted you to read it before I formed an opinion.”Liam read it twice. Behind him, Noah banged a pot lid against the floor with the focus of a man conducting an orchestra.“He wants to see me,” Liam said slowly.“He’s asking. You don’t have to say yes.”“I know.” Liam set the letter down and looked at him, something like surprise crossing his face. “You’re not going to tell me not to go.”“No.” Ethan’s voice was steady. “I want to. Every part of me wants to say Marcus Chen gets nothing from you, ever again. But it’s your decision, and if you want me there, I’ll be there. If you don’t, I’ll be wherever you tell me to be.”Liam was quiet for a long moment. A year ago, he would have taken that
Adam Foster had never been nervous before a job in his life.He’d stood outside rooms where men with real grudges were waiting. He’d walked clients through crowds that could turn ugly in seconds. His pulse had stayed level through all of it.Now he was standing in Liam’s kitchen on a Thursday afternoon with a small velvet box in his jacket pocket, and his hands wouldn’t stay still.“You’re going to wear a hole in that floor,” Liam said, watching him pace between the counter and the window.“I’m fine.”“You said that three times in the last ten minutes.”“Because I’m fine.” Adam stopped pacing. “Okay. I’m not fine. What if she says no?”Ethan, leaning against the counter with Noah on his hip, raised an eyebrow. “She’s been living in your apartment for eight months. She cleared a drawer for her hair ties.”“That’s different from marriage.”“It’s very slightly different,” Liam admitted. “But Adam, she’s in love with you. Zara hides a lot of things. That is not one of them.”Adam exhaled
The offer came from Ethan on an ordinary Tuesday, delivered with none of the ceremony Liam might have expected a year earlier."I'm not asking you to move back in," Ethan said carefully, clearing the dinner plates while Noah smeared mashed carrots across his high chair tray with enthusiastic disregard for the mess. "I want to be clear about that first. I know we're still building this at your pace.""Okay," Liam said, wary but listening."I want to buy a house," Ethan continued. "Not the penthouse. Not anything connected to the company or my father's name on the deed. Something ordinary. A place that could, eventually, if you ever wanted it, be somewhere we build a life instead of just visiting each other's apartments on Tuesdays." He paused. "I'm not attaching any expectation to it. I just wanted you to know it's something I'm doing, whether or not it ever becomes that. I'd rather have the option ready than wait until you're ready and then scramble to catch up."Liam considered that
They started with Tuesdays.It was Liam's idea, something small and specific, easier to hold onto than a vague promise to "try." Tuesday dinners, at Liam's new place, the modest apartment he'd taken near Zara's after deciding the house three hours out had done what it needed to do and it was time to be closer again, on his own terms.Ethan came the first Tuesday with flowers, then felt foolish about it, then brought them anyway the second Tuesday because Liam had mentioned, offhand, that nobody had really brought him flowers before this whole story started and it turned out he liked them more than he expected to admit."You don't have to keep doing that," Liam said, the third week, though he was already reaching for a vase."I know," Ethan said, echoing a joke that had become theirs somewhere along the way. "I like doing it."Noah, now steady enough on his feet to be a genuine hazard around anything breakable, narrated the entire dinner in his own expanding vocabulary, mostly nonsense
They met at the studio, neutral ground, Liam's choice, a space that belonged to neither of their pasts but to the work he'd built entirely on his own.Ethan arrived early and waited outside rather than let himself in, standing on the sidewalk in the late afternoon light like a man who understood, finally and completely, that nothing about this moment was his to control.When Liam's car pulled up, Noah strapped into the back seat, something in Ethan's chest cracked open at the sight of them, five months compressed into the sudden, overwhelming reality of a son who'd grown, who now had actual words instead of babbling, who looked at Ethan through the car window with a moment of uncertain recognition before breaking into a wide, delighted grin."Dada!"Ethan's eyes burned. He hadn't expected that word yet. He hadn't expected any of this to land quite this hard."Hi," Liam said, getting out of the car, something careful and searching in his expression. "Hi, you.""Hi," Ethan managed, voic







