It starts in the middle of the night.
Not dramatic. Not sharp. Just a deep, unmistakable pull low in my abdomen that wakes me from sleep like a hand closing gently but firmly around my spine. For a moment I don’t move. I lie there in the dark, breath shallow, waiting for it to pass the way so many strange sensations have over the past months.
It doesn’t.
Another wave follows, slow and heavy, spreading outward instead of stabbing inward. My body tightens around it instinctively, muscles responding before my mind fully catches up. I grit my teeth, riding it, counting without meaning to.
This is different.
The realization lands with a weight that steals my breath more than the pain does.
I reach for Damian without opening my eyes, my fingers finding his wrist in the dark, anchoring myse
