Page 74 of Omega's Faith

Finally, I pull myself up, grip the counter edge, look down at the test, then the second one.

Two lines on both. Clear as day.

Pregnant.

I stare at it until my vision blurs, then sit on the bathroom floor, back against the tub.

I'm pregnant with Alexander Colborne's child.

A hysterical laugh bubbles up. Three weeks ago I was a virgin. Now I'm pregnant by a man who doesn't want children, sitting on my parents' bathroom floor.

The doorknob rattles. "Jonah? You okay in there?" Mom's voice, concerned.

"I'm fine," I manage. "Just... give me a minute."

Her footsteps retreat, but she’s hovering. I wrap the test in toilet paper, bury it deep in the trash under tissues and an emptyshampoo bottle. Evidence hidden, as if that changes anything.

Then I rethink it. Why am I hiding this? I did nothing wrong. I submitted—sort of—to my alpha. I am married. I amstillmarried. Why should I hide my pregnancy?

Mom's right there, as I knew she would be. Her eyes go immediately to the test in my hand, and I watch understanding dawn across her face.

"Oh, sweetheart," she breathes, pulling me into her arms. The test is trapped between us, those two lines pressed against her church dress. "Oh my goodness. A baby?"

"Yeah," I whisper into her shoulder. "A baby."

She pulls back, cups my face in her hands, and I see tears in her eyes. "Does Alex know?"

"Not yet."

I head to my room, pull out my phone—the one Alex insisted I get, despite Pastor David calling it an "unnecessary temptation." My fingers shake as I type:

I'm pregnant. I hesitate then add. I’m not expecting anything.Thought you should know. Jonah.

Simple. Direct. No room for misunderstanding.

I hit send and wait for a response. Surely, if anything will make him reply then this will.

But I get nothing.

19. Alex

The estate feels haunted. Not by my parents. Their ghosts gave up on this place years ago. No, it's haunted by someone still living.

It’s the morning after Jonah and I went out dancing and I’m standing in the doorway of the blue room, gripping the frame. Mrs. Atkins had the sheets changed, the windows opened, everything aired out and sanitized. But I can still smell him. Honey and vanilla, faint but definitely there.

"Will you be taking lunch, sir?" Mrs. Atkins appears behind me, professional as always.

"No." I don't turn around. Can't stop staring at that perfectly made bed where Jonah slept until he went into heat and was compelled to come find me. "Actually, I'm going away for a bit."

"Very good, sir. Shall I pack for you?"

"I'll do it myself."

She hesitates. It’s probably the first time I've ever refused her help with anything. "Of course. Will Mr. Colborne be joining you?"

Mr. Colborne. Like he still lives here.

"No," I say. "He won't."