The morning after his dramatic confrontation in the dungeon, Riven woke up feeling—well, not exactly refreshed, but at least like he hadn't been personally run over by a herd of bulls.
He stretched, rubbed his face, and caught a glimpse of the marked calendar on the wall.
He squinted.
Then squinted harder.
Then actually sat up so fast he got dizzy.
Wait.
Wait just one bloody second.
His eyes darted to the little circle he'd made around the date. He'd learned early on that if he didn't keep track of his cycles, he'd get caught unprepared. Because he was an omega—and the only omega anyone knew of who could actually get pregnant—he'd developed the habit of marking his calendar.
And according to the calendar… He was late.
Riven's hands shot to his stomach.
"Oh no," he whispered dramatically to himself. "Oh. No."
He was not prepared for childbirth, not even a little!
