The house was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind. Not the calm kind. The kind that made Tina Sterling sit upright in bed at exactly six forty-three in the morning, heart racing, eyes wide, brain screaming 'SOMETHING IS WRONG.' She turned her head sharply. Andrew was still asleep beside her. Breathing. Slow. Even. Her chest loosened a fraction.
~Okay. Good. Omega alive. Babies alive. World still standing.~
She stared at him for a long second, eyes tracing the familiar shape of his face—the curve of his lashes, the faint crease between his brows that only showed up when he was tired or thinking too hard. Then her gaze drifted lower. Her hand hovered. Did not touch. She swallowed.
"…You're really pregnant."
She whispered, like saying it too loudly might break something. Andrew shifted slightly in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent and turning his face into the pillow. The movement made Tina freeze like she'd just been caught committing a crime.
"Don't move."
