Page 11 of Omega on the Rocks (Pubbin’ Mates #1)

It started with the nausea.

Subtle, at first. A gnawing discomfort in the pit of my stomach every morning that didn’t ease until well past noon.

At first, I brushed it off—blamed the shift in sleeping schedules, the intensity of the bond, the way Keiran kept feeding me like I might disappear if he didn’t keep me full and warm and wrecked.

But it wasn’t just that.

The dizziness followed. A sort of off-balance feeling, like the world had tilted slightly left, and no matter how still I stood, I couldn’t quite center myself. My body felt heavier in strange places, more sensitive, like it was tuned to a frequency I didn’t understand.

And the smells—gods help me. The cabin had always smelled like cedar and wolf musk and the faint embers of the fireplace.

But now? Everything was sharper. The spices in the kitchen made my head spin.

The woods outside smelled like rot and bloom all at once.

Keiran’s scent—which usually grounded me—sometimes made my stomach flutter, sometimes churn.

It had been two weeks since he claimed me. Two weeks since my heat broke under the weight of him, since I surrendered to a bond that had nearly destroyed me before it saved me.

And now—

Now, I was sitting on the bathroom floor, my cheek against the cool porcelain of the tub, trying to breathe through the wave of nausea rolling over me like a storm surge.

“Preacher?”

Keiran’s voice was soft, laced with concern, already moving closer.

“I’m okay,” I lied, even as my stomach lurched again.

A moment later, he was kneeling beside me, fingers sliding into my hair, tilting my face gently toward him.

“You’re not okay,” he murmured, frowning. “You’ve been off for days. You didn’t eat last night. You’ve barely been sleeping.”

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry and bitter. “I… think I know what this is.”

His hand stilled in my hair. “Yeah?”

I nodded slowly, meeting his gaze. “I think I’m pregnant.”

The words landed between us like a thunderclap. No denial. No question.

Just truth.

Keiran’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating instantly, his wolf rising in full force. I could feel it in the way his body tensed, the way his breath hitched, the way his hand slid from my hair to rest flat against my belly.

“I know it’s early,” I whispered. “But I can feel it. It’s like… my body isn’t mine anymore. Like something’s shifting—building. And it’s not just the symptoms, Keiran. It’s the bond. It’s different.”

His palm pressed gently, reverently over the slight swell that wasn’t there—but somehow still was . A potential. A spark.

“You're sure?” he asked, voice hushed, barely holding together.

“As sure as I can be without a test,” I said. “We both knew it could happen. I just didn’t expect it to happen this fast.”

His hand trembled slightly, then steadied. He leaned forward and kissed the center of my forehead—soft, sacred.

“You’re carrying my pup,” he whispered, more to himself than to me. “Our pup.”

The words hit me harder than I expected.

Ours.

I blinked fast, my throat suddenly tight.

“What do we do?” I asked. “What if something’s wrong? What if I’m not strong enough?”

He pulled me into his lap like I weighed nothing at all and wrapped his arms around me, holding me like I was something precious. Something breakable. Something his.

“You are the strongest man I’ve ever known, Malachi,” he said, pressing his lips to my temple. “And nothing— nothing —will happen to you or our baby. I won’t let it.”

I let myself lean into him, my body aching and raw and terrified.

But not alone.

Never alone.