Chapter 6 *"It Turned Out My Thoughts Were True, I'm Pregnant for the Devil's Son.
The days after the ritual were heavy with silence and shadow. I tried to focus on the small moments with Riven, but my mind was a storm of fear and uncertainty. There was something different—something inside me shifting and changing, and I couldn't ignore it any longer.
The dizziness came first, subtle at first, but growing stronger. Then the nausea, the tiredness that no amount of rest could fix. I kept telling myself it was just nerves, just the stress of living with the devil's son. But deep down, a quiet voice whispered a terrifying truth: I was pregnant.
I was terrified.
How could this be? Pregnant with the child of a devil. What would it mean? Would the child be cursed like him? Would I be carrying an immortal—something neither fully human nor fully demon? These questions haunted me, twisting in my mind day and night.
I kept my secret hidden, afraid of how Riven would react. He was strong and proud, the seventh devil lord, and his love was a dangerous thing. What if he saw this child as a weakness? What if he rejected me for it?
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But when I finally gathered the courage to tell him, his reaction surprised me.
He didn't lash out or grow cold. Instead, his eyes softened, and for the first time since I'd met him, I saw something real—something tender and almost gentle.
"This child is ours," he whispered, his voice low and serious. "I will protect you both."
His words brought a strange warmth to my heart, but they didn't erase the fear. I was still scared. Scared of what this child would mean for both of us, scared of the unknown path ahead.
As the days passed, I noticed how Riven began to change. He was less distant, more careful around me. Sometimes, late at night, he would sit quietly, holding my hand, as if trying to will away the darkness that seemed to cling to us.
I wondered if he was afraid too.
Was he afraid of losing me? Of losing control?
Or was it something deeper—the fear of becoming a father to something that might change everything?
Despite the fear and uncertainty, I found myself hoping. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, love—even love with a devil—could create something pure.
Maybe this child could be the light that breaks through the darkness.
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As I rested in his arms one evening, feeling his steady heartbeat against my cheek, I allowed myself to believe in something new. A fragile hope that maybe, despite everything, there was a future worth fighting for.
I whispered softly to myself, *I'm pregnant. And no matter what comes next, I will survive.*
Because sometimes, hope is the only thing that keeps you alive.