I didn’t remember getting into the car. Didn’t remember Demi starting the engine or the way the world blurred outside the window.
All I knew was the fire in my chest. The unbearable, consuming heat of rage.
I was pregnant. With Asher’s child.
And he’d known.
“Ava,” Demi said softly, but I couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t focus on anything except the way my hands were shaking in my lap.
He’d marked me. Chosen me. Then abandoned me.
And now—now, I was carrying his f*****g heir.
The reality of it hit like a punch to the gut. My breathing hitched, my stomach twisting. I pressed a hand against it instinctively, my skin burning like it was rejecting what lay beneath.
I couldn’t do this.
I wouldn’t do this.
Demi must have seen the panic rising because she grabbed my arm, firm but gentle.
