The first thing Alec noticed was the scent of pregnancy—rich, hormonal, unmistakably Daisy. The second was that she was much further along than the barely-showing sister he'd left behind seven months ago.
His eyes snapped open, predator instincts flooding back with violent precision. The medical wing crystallized around him in sharp detail: sterile white walls, humming machines, and his sister standing like she'd swallowed the moon, hands pressed protectively to her swollen belly.
"Daisy." Her name came out rough, unused. Seven months of silence had turned his throat to gravel.
"Hey, big brother." Tears already tracked down her face, but she was smiling. "Welcome back to the land of the living."
He catalogued the changes with methodical precision. The Moon's Tear blazing at her throat
