Her breasts were fuller, heavier, almost unnaturally so.
Milk beaded at her nipples. Not a ton, but enough to gather and trail downward in slow, glistening lines.
I pressed a hand to my own stomach and remembered the razor-blade pain.
My heart splintered.
Logan stepped fully into frame, a black silk dress dangling from his fingers.
“I can’t take you anywhere like this,” he snapped. “Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?”
“What happened?” I whispered.
Serena’s voice was rough. “Breakfast with his capos. When they came back, her top was soaked and her zipper was blown.” She swallowed. “Apparently, every alpha at the table tried to help her, and Logan didn’t like that.”
I stared at Violet’s swollen stomach.
“She’s still growing?”
Serena nodded.
Then why can’t I feel it?
And then I remembered.
The bunny.
Vinny’s scent soaked into it.
Bond rot worsens when an alpha is near, but not close enough for true contact.
And, I’d saturated her rabbit with Vinny’s pheromones, which meant I might have made it worse.
On the screen, Logan forced her into another dress, fingers biting into her sides as he dragged the zipper up.
She looked one breath away from collapsing.
And I felt nothing from her.
Nothing.
But I felt Serena.
The raw, animalistic need clawing through her. This was bad. This was veryverybad.
“Can you feel her?” I asked quietly, trying to act calm.
Serena didn’t look away.
“I haven’t felt anything except how badly I need her in days.”
My stomach dropped.
“Days?”
She nodded.
“I thought the scientist from the clinic was exaggerating,” she muttered. “Benji… I feel like a monster. All I want is to keep her and Skye pregnant and useless and within arm’s reach.”
