Page 22 of Omega’s Fever (Prime Match #2)

Milo

I barely make it to the bathroom, knees hitting the cold tile hard enough to bruise as I retch into the toilet. My stomach clenches, bringing up nothing but bile that burns my throat. The suppressants have been making me queasy for weeks and it’s getting worse. I feel completely out of control.

“Milo?” Kellen’s voice comes through the door, rough with sleep. The handle rattles. “Let me in.”

“I’m fine.” The words come out between heaves. “Just... give me a minute.”

His weight settles against the door. I can picture him there, pressing his forehead to the wood, trying to get as close as he can.

We’ve been living together for two weeks now and I know him well enough to know that his alpha need to protect and comfort must be riding him hard.

Too bad. I need at least a pretense of control.

Another wave of nausea rolls through me. My hands shake as I grip the porcelain.

The bathroom tiles are small hexagons, black and white in a pattern that makes my head spin worse. I count them between spasms. Fourteen black ones in my immediate vision. Twenty-three white.

“You’ve been sick every morning this week,” Kellen says quietly through the door. He’s not accusing, just stating a fact.

Have I? The days blur together. Court. Home.

Avoiding looking at him too long. Avoiding thinking about how his hands felt on my skin last night, how I came apart under his touch like I was made for it.

Avoiding thinking about the way my body aches for him even through the chemical haze of suppressants.

I need to concentrate on the case. If I think about anything else, I’m going to go mad.

“It’s just the stress.” I push myself up on shaky legs, flush the toilet then rinse my mouth.

I look like death. My skin is pale and there are dark circles under my eyes.

My hair is plastered to my forehead with sweat.

I look like an absolute horror. It’s a miracle that Kellen is attracted to me through all this.

I splash cold water on my face and brush my teeth twice before I finally unlock the door.

Kellen is exactly where I pictured him. He straightens immediately, nostrils flaring. His dark eyes scan my face, taking in every detail.

“You need to eat something,” he says. “I’ll make you toast.”

The thought of eating makes my stomach turn.

“Later.” I try to step past him but the hallway tilts. His hand shoots out, steadying me with a grip on my elbow. The touch burns through my thin sleep shirt.

“Sit.” It’s not a request. He guides me to the kitchen table, pushes me into a chair. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

I want to protest. Instead, I put my head in my hands and breathe through the lingering nausea while he moves around my kitchen.

He drops a slice of bread into the toaster and turns it on. I love the look of him in my kitchen, the muscles though his t-shirt, the way his big hands fill a glass of water for me. And his scent... I want to roll around in it like a dog. I’m planning on getting used to this.

He sets a plate in front of me containing dry toast, cut into triangles like I’m a child. I nibble at a corner of toast while he watches.

“When’s the last time you saw a doctor?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

That’s not what I asked.”

I take another small bite to avoid answering. The math is already happening in my head.

Six weeks since our first meeting when I lost control with him so completely that I straddled a strange alpha while he fucked into me, his wrists cuffed.

It feels like a lifetime ago. I’ve had six weeks of suppressants on a dose higher than what I was prescribed.

Part of me already knows that the nausea that I’m feeling might have another cause.

I’ve just not wanted to admit it because if it’s true, then my life really will have changed forever, no matter what happens with Kellen.

I put down the toast and Kellen frowns at me. “At least eat half of it. You need something in your stomach.”

That is exactly what I am worried about.

“I need to stop at the pharmacy,” I say. “Before court. For antacids.”

He studies me for a long moment. I force myself to meet his gaze, to not look away like the liar I am. Whatever he sees makes him nod slowly.

“Finish your breakfast.”

I manage half a piece of toast and most of the water.

Showering helps marginally. I stand under the spray until it runs cold, trying to pull myself together.

By the time I’m dressed in my court suit, I almost feel human.

The facade lasts until we’re in the car and I catch sight of a pregnant omega walking past. My stomach drops through the floor.

No. No, I’m being paranoid. It’s the suppressants. They made me nauseous from the beginning. Add the stress of the case and of having Kellen in my space, of wanting him so badly I can barely think straight - that’s all this is.

“Here.” I point to the pharmacy on State Street. “This one.”

Kellen pulls into the parking lot without comment. I’m halfway out of the car when he starts to follow.

“I’ll just be a minute,” I say quickly. “You don’t need to-”

“There’s no chance I’m letting you out of my sight.”

Of course, Cobb. It’s a measure of how insane my life is right now that it completely slipped my mind that I have a crime boss personally threatening me.

I also don’t want him seeing what I’m buying.

“There’s no way Cobb could know I’m here.”

Something flickers across his face, but he nods. “I’ll wait by the door.”

We walk up together. I carry on in when we reach the door but he stops, scanning the aisles and I realize he’s not watching me. He’s watching every other person in the store in case they’re a threat. I’m in luck.

The pregnancy tests are on aisle seven across the aisle from the antacids. I grab a bunch of different brands from both sides. The teenage cashier doesn’t even look up from her phone as she rings me through. Kellen is exactly where I left him, a solid presence by the automatic doors.

“Get what you needed?” he asks.

“Yeah.” The bag weighs a thousand pounds in my hand. “Let’s go.”

The courthouse is already busy when we arrive. I make an excuse about needing the restroom and practically sprint to the family bathroom on the third floor. My hands won’t stop shaking as I rip open the first box.

The instructions swim before my eyes. I’ve never done this before. Never had to.

When all three boxes are open, I sit to pee and do get all the testers done at the same time.

Three minutes. The longest three minutes of my life.

The first test shows two pink lines.

The second has a plus sign.

The third just says PREGNANT in digital letters that can’t be misinterpreted.

I sink onto the closed toilet seat, staring at the evidence lined up on the sink. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not like this. Not with him.

I shove the tests into the pharmacy bag and stuff the whole thing in the trash.

Judge Melkham is already on the bench when I slip into my seat beside Kellen. He glances at me, a small frown creasing his forehead, but I focus on arranging my files. The prosecution calls their next witness. I take notes mechanically, cross-examine on autopilot.

The lies pour from the witness’s mouth. Yes, he saw Mr. Hayes collecting money. Yes, Mr. Hayes was definitely in charge. No, he never saw any indication of trafficking. Blah blah blah.

It’s all so obvious that they’ve been coached. The only way a reasonable person could think this was real was if Kellen were the most inept criminal ever and then there was no way he’d ever be clever enough to run off with the millions of dollars that he supposedly has.

I stand up to question the witness but I’m struggling to concentrate. I should be sharper. I can tear the testimony apart. Instead, all I can think about is the life growing inside me.

I grit my teeth and start questioning the witness. It’s not hard to tear their testimony apart, but still I feel like I’m on autopilot.

The jury are all watching me blank-faced. I can’t get a read on them and that’s bothering me.

There must be something else I can ask, something that really proves Kellen is innocent. I wrack my brain.

“Counselor?” Judge Melkham’s voice cuts through my spiral. “Do you have any further questions for this witness?”

I’ve been standing here, silent, for too long. “No, Your Honor. No further questions.”

Kellen’s hand brushes mine as I sit. The touch is electric, grounding. I jerk away.

The morning drags on. My stomach churns through all of it and I breathe through my nose, will myself not to throw up in open court. The bailiff calls for recess just as I’m reaching my limit.

“I need to make a call,” I tell Kellen, already moving toward the hallway.

“Milo-”

“I’ll be right back.”

I find a quiet corner, pull up my doctor’s number with trembling fingers. He answers on the third ring.

“It’s Milo Warren. I need- I have a question about the suppressants you prescribed.”

“Of course. Are you experiencing side effects?”

“What would happen if... hypothetically... someone was taking them while pregnant?”

The silence on the other end makes my blood run cold.

“Milo, are you pregnant?”

“Hypothetically.”

“There’s no hypothetical here. Those suppressants are category X. Absolutely contraindicated in pregnancy. They can cause severe fetal abnormalities, miscarriage, developmental delays. How far along are you in the pregnancy”

“Maybe six weeks.” My voice cracks. “Maybe less. I just found out. I just…”

“You need to stop immediately. Today. Right now. And you need to come in for an examination as soon as possible. The first trimester is critical for development, and those suppressants…” She cuts herself off. “Can you come in this afternoon?”

“I’m in court. I have… Tomorrow?”

“First thing. And Milo? Not another dose. You’d be risking yourself and the baby.”

The baby. Not the pregnancy. Not the fetus. The baby.

I end the call and lean against the wall. Kellen already knows. He has to. The way he’s been watching me.

“Ready?” His voice makes me jump. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, hands in his pockets, trying to look non-threatening. An impossible task for a man his size.

“Yeah.” I push off the wall, straighten my jacket. “Let’s go.”

The afternoon session is torture. I can feel the suppressants wearing off already, psychosomatic maybe, but my skin feels too tight. Every time Kellen shifts beside me, his scent washes over me and my omega instincts, dulled for so long, start to wake up.

By the time Judge Melkham calls it a day, I’m holding on by a thread. The walk to the car feels endless. Kellen’s presence beside me is overwhelming. He opens my door, waits for me to get in, walks around to the driver’s side.

We’re three blocks from the courthouse when he speaks.

“We need to talk about the pregnancy.”

I flinch.

“I could tell from your scent,” he says quietly, eyes on the road. “It’s changing. Subtle, under the suppressants, but it’s there. Sweeter. Fuller.” He pauses, his gaze switching from the rear view mirror to the side mirror, always checking for danger.

The last of my control shatters. I pull the car over and the tears come hot and fast, pouring out in ugly sobs. I press my palms against my eyes, trying to stem the flow, but it’s useless.

“This morning,” I manage between gulps of air. “I just confirmed this morning. The tests... they were all positive. And the suppressants, god, I’ve been taking them this whole time. The doctor says they could cause... that I might have already...”

I can’t finish. I can’t voice the fear that I’ve already damaged this tiny life I didn’t even know existed.

I should have known it existed. Of course, it does. That’s what happens when a prime match has unprotected sex.

Then Kellen’s arms are around me, pulling me awkwardly across the center console. I bury my face in his chest and let myself fall apart completely.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs into my hair. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever you need, whatever you want to do, we’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t know what to do.” The words come out muffled against his shirt. “I don’t know anything anymore. My whole life, I’ve had a plan. There wasn’t supposed to be... this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

His hand strokes down my back, soothing. “Life rarely goes according to plan.”

“Your life is literally on trial. You could go to prison. I could lose my career. We don’t even know each other, not really. And now there’s a baby and I’ve probably already hurt it and—”

“Stop.” His voice is firm but gentle. “You didn’t know. You couldn’t have known. And whatever happens next, we face it together.”

“Why?” I pull back enough to look at his face. “Why are you being so calm about this?”

Something soft passes over his features. “Because one of us has to be. And because...” He pauses, seems to choose his words carefully. “Because you’re the first good thing that’s happened to me in a very long time. You and... and this baby. Prime match or not, I want to try. If you’ll let me.”

I stare at him, this man I’ve been so wary of, who the whole world thinks is a thug. But all I see is kindness and strength.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I whisper.

“Neither do I.” His thumb brushes away a tear. “We can figure it out together?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. He holds me a moment longer before gently settling me back in my seat. The drive home is quiet, but it’s a different kind of silence than before. Softer. Less sharp-edged.

The reality of it all repeatedly crashes over me in waves. I’m pregnant. With Kellen’s baby. The suppressants I’ve been taking could have caused irreparable harm. Everything is changing.

“I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow,” I say as we pull into the parking garage. “First thing.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” He parks, turns to face me fully. “Unless you don’t want me there?”

I think about facing this alone. I can’t imagine sitting alone in a sterile exam room getting news that could shatter me. “No, I... I’d like you there.”

His smile is small but genuine. “Okay.”

That night, for the first time in six weeks, I don’t take my evening dose of suppressants and for the first time, Kellen sleeps in my bed, holding me as I cry.