Rejected And Disowned Now Claimed By Four Ruthless Alphas
Then a ripple.
A faint sensation, so quiet I almost miss it. It’s not like the bond I share with them, not like the electric connection of being claimed. This is something else entirely. It hums beneath my ribs, subtle but persistent, like the flutter of wings or the gentle stir of wind through dry leaves. And beneath that hum is a rhythm, so soft it might be imagined, but I know instinctively that it’s not. It’s a heartbeat.
Tiny, steady and alive.
My breath catches in my throat, and I press my palm more firmly against my abdomen, anchoring myself to the reality of it. The baby is real. The bond is real.