~Lyra~
He needs to know
Because if I’m pregnant…
If I’m actually pregnant…
Then this is real. Not just in a fantasy way. Not just in the kinky, dirty, breed-me-Daddy kind of way that made my toes curl and my back arch every time he whispered mine into my mouth while I was trembling under him.
This isn’t just about what happened on the bed. Or the desk. Or the balcony. Or all those times he knotted me so deep I couldn’t think straight for hours afterward.
This is about my body. Changing. Growing something. Someone. His.
Because if I’m pregnant, that means there’s an actual baby inside me. A little Alpha or Omega forming from all the cum he stuffed inside me while I moaned and begged for it and told him I wanted this. That I could take it. That I needed it.
And I did.
God, I did.
But that was then.
Right now, I’m scared.
Not completely terrified. Not like I regret anything. But scared in that chest-aching, throat-tightening, I-don’t-know-how- to-breathe kind of way. Scared like the world just tilted and I’m still trying to find something to hold onto.
I’m eighteen.
I haven’t even figured out my major yet.
I still eat ice cream with a plastic spoon straight out of the tub while watching cheesy romance movies at night. I cry when I get yelled at. I talk too much when I’m nervous. I chew my nails. I get distracted easily.
And now there might be a baby.
Inside me.
A baby with Damon’s eyes. With his dark hair. With that little snarl in its lips. A baby who might grow up to growl like him. Or say Daddy in that bratty little voice I always use when I want his hands on my throat.
And suddenly, I’m whispering to myself in the bathroom mirror like it’s a therapy session.
“Okay, Lyra. You can do this.”
I straighten my shoulders.
I exhale through my nose.
I look myself dead in the eyes even though my cheeks are still flushed, and my pupils are still huge, and I can still feel slick clinging to my inner thighs like I haven’t fully recovered from what we did.
“You can do this,” I whisper again, louder this time, nodding like that will make it true. “You’re just going to tell him. You’re going to take a deep breath and call him. Or maybe text first. Maybe ease into it. Be casual. Be normal. Be-oh fuck, how do you casually tell the most dangerous Alpha you’ve ever met that you might be carrying his knot baby?”
I shake my hands out. I pace the tile floor. I rub my stomach again like it’s a magic 8-ball that’s going to give me the answers if I shake it hard enough.
“Okay, maybe something like… ‘Hey, I know this is random, but remember that time you pinned me to your desk and told me I was going to take your cum like a good girl? Yeah, so… turns out I did. And now I might be pregnant. Want to grab lunch and talk about it?””>
I groan.
“Too casual. Way too casual. That sounds like I’m inviting him to Panera Bread to discuss baby names.”
I start again, pacing faster, hands waving, voice muttering like I’m rehearsing for a play that could determine whether I live or die.
“Okay, new idea. What about: ‘Damon, we need to talk. It’s serious. Don’t freak out, but I think I might be pregnant. I haven’t taken a test yet, but I’ve missed my period, and I know my body, and I’m scared, and I need you.””
I pause.
That one hits different.
I close my eyes and whisper it again to myself, slower this time.
“I need you.”
And I do.
Because I don’t know how to do this alone.
Because even if I am a little scared, even if I’m not ready, even if my life is turning upside down faster than I can process it— he always made me feel like I was safe. Like I was protected. Like nothing could touch me as long as he was near.
Would he be happy?
That thought hits me like a punch to the chest.
Would Damon actually want this?
Would he be furious?noveldrama
Would he say it was a mistake?
Would he tell me I was reckless? That I should’ve tracked my heat better? That he warned me but I didn’t listen because I was too busy moaning and crying and begging him to knot me harder?
Or…
Would he smile?
Would he touch my stomach?
Would he pull me close and say of course, like he always meant to fill me with his babies? Like that was the plan all along? My breath catches in my throat and I swallow hard, staring at myself in the mirror as my thoughts start spinning again.
“Does he even like babies? But wait a minute.He had tasha. So definitely he treated her nicely when she was born right? Or maybe because she was a girl. I whisper, voice barely there. “What if our child turns out to be a boy? Would he treat him differently”
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