The morning sunlight streamed softly through the sheer curtains of the Alpha suite, painting gentle, dancing patterns across the tangled silk sheets. The room was quiet, permeated by the lingering warmth of their bodies, a comforting cocoon of safety.
Until Lyra stirred.
She winced—not from the pleasant lethargy of sleep, but from a sharp, intrusive pain. A dull, yet insistent, stabbing throb twisted deep in her lower stomach, a clawing agony sharp enough to steal her breath, forcing a guttural sound from her throat.
Her hand moved instinctively to press against the searing discomfort, clutching at her abdomen, but it did nothing to ease the agonizing ache. It only intensified, a cruel, relentless torment.
“Ah—” She gasped, a ragged sound, curling slightly into herself, her body tensi
