Page 113 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

I cannot make it real in my head.

I’m not an Omega who can get pregnant. That has never been me, and it’s not my story. That door was locked so long ago I stopped reaching for the handle.

Infertility wasn’t just a diagnosis. It was a brand burned into my identity, a label that rearranged the way the world saw me. It defined me as a person and set the direction of my entire life, whether I wanted it to or not.

An Omega who could not be mated because she could not be bred. Defective and broken. How many times did I hear those words uttered? How many times did I say them to myself?

I can still see the front porch of my father’s house with the sun on the steps, dust in the air, and Officer Gould’s high heels and pencil skirt. She didn’t offer condolences, and she certainly didn’t make any effort to soften the blow.

Infertile and unfit for traditional placement. She said I was better suited in The Companionship Program.

To the Capital, I was worthless as a mate for an Alpha and only suitable to be a whore.

That was the moment that rewrote me. It set me on my course that led to Barkrood, to The Omega Division, to Scorch Squad, and to this exam bed with my mates surrounding me while my entire life tilts under my feet.

Shade cups my cheek, turning my face away from my stomach. His palm is a warm, steady tether while I feel completely cut loose.

"Stay with me," he says. "You’re here, and you’re safe with your Pack."

The word safe should help.

It does not.

I blink slowly, trying to drag myself back to Shade and to the fact that I’m surrounded by people who would rip the world apart for me.

Then the bond presses in.

Knox’s fear is controlled and brutal, as his Prime Alpha instinct searches for a strategy to deal with this unexpected development. Viper’s shock follows, tangled with anxiety he’s struggling to handle. Shade’s worry is quieter, but it’s there, precise and heavy beneath his false calm. Blaze’s panic is loudest. His Alpha is agitated because his Omega smells like she is in distress, and there is no enemy to maim to make it stop.

They love me. But right now, their love is too much.

Their feelings crowd mine until I can’t tell where my panic ends and theirs begins.

My throat clicks when I try to swallow, my mouth dry.

"I can’t…" I hear myself whisper. "I can’t be…"

Pregnant.

I can’t be someone whose body does that.

"You don’t have to decide what you feel about it right now," Everlyn's voice breaks through the blood rushing in my ears. Her voice is careful and coaxing. "You don’t have to do anything but breathe. You’re in shock, Halley."

I try and fail.

The panic is not polite, and it certainly doesn’t wait for my logic to catch up. It doesn’t care that I’ve faced bullets and blood and death with less fear than is currently flooding my brain.

Viper leans in, his broad shoulders blocking out the overhead lighting.

"In," he murmurs, instructing my breathing the way he did during training when my eye was pressed to the scope of his sniper rifle. "And out. Slow."

My lungs refuse to cooperate. I want to be good. To listen to my lieutenant and prove that I'm a good Omega, but each breath drags in thin and useless. My heart kicks harder as I realize I can't make myself calm down. A tremor starts in my hands and climbs up my arms.

Everlyn swears under her breath, not at me, but at the situation. She reaches for my wrist with clinical efficiency.

"Pulse is racing," she mutters. "Halley, you’re having a panic attack. That’s what this is. It feels awful, but I promise it will not kill you."

It feels like it will.