Caesar's POV
The words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe.
"It's yours."
Mine. The baby was mine.
Everything inside me roared to life—Olsen surging forward with possessive pride, every instinct I'd suppressed for years demanding to be heard.
My wolf wanted to mark her right now, claim her completely, make sure the world knew she belonged to me.
But I forced myself to stay still. Not yet.
"Say that again," I said, my voice rougher than I intended.
Viya's hand rested on her stomach, her cheeks flushed, those brown eyes watching me with a mix of nervousness and something else. Hope, maybe.
"The baby is yours, Caesar," she repeated, steadier now. "That night... you know. It was always you."
That night. The night I'd lost every ounce
