Clara sat on the cool tile floor of the bathroom, the two small plastic sticks lying beside her like silent, irrefutable pronouncements. Positive. The word vibrated in her mind, a startling echo against the quiet hum of the house. Her mind reeled, grappling with the astonishing truth, and then, the unsettling question: Whose baby could it be?
Julian. The memory of his brutal attack, just over three months ago, clawed at her. The violation. The terror. Could it be his? The thought sent a fresh wave of nausea, colder than any morning sickness. But then, her mind jumped to the vibrant, passionate weeks she had spent with Dante, Silas, and Kai. Since the moment they had entered her life, their shared bed had become a haven of uninhibited desire and profound connection. There had been so much
