Ruofei's POV:
After paying the bill—and leaving an unusually generous tip for the waiter who had to witness our dramatic conversation—we head straight to the hospital.
Wenli drives, checking the mirrors obsessively to make sure no one is following us.
His paranoia is justified. If anyone finds out about this before we're ready, before I've decided what to do...
The hospital he chooses is one I've never been to before, tucked away in a quieter part of the city.
The moment we walk through the doors, I notice something unusual.
Almost everyone here is a beta.
The receptionist, the nurses passing by, even the security guard—all betas. It's oddly calming in a way I didn't expect, the absence of competing pheromones making the sterile air easier to breathe.
"Why all betas?" I ask Wenli quietly as we wait to be called.
He glances around before answering. "This hospital specializes in rare conditions. Some patients have severe reactions to pheromones—it makes their symptoms worse. So they staff primarily with betas to keep the environment as neutral as possible."
Smart. And discreet.
We're directed to a private consultation room where a doctor is waiting.
She's a beta as well—middle-aged, with kind eyes and a professional demeanor that immediately puts me at ease.
Or as at ease as I can be, given the circumstances.
"Mr. Huang," she greets me with a warm smile. "I'm Dr. Chen. Please, have a seat and tell me what brings you in today."
I sit, Wenli taking the chair beside me, and begin explaining.
The symptoms, the timeline, the home tests. I leave out certain details—like who the father is, like the missing memories, like the political nightmare this represents—but I give her enough to work with.
She listens attentively, taking notes, asking clarifying questions.
Then she orders a series of tests.
Blood work. Urine sample. Ultrasound.
"It shouldn't take too long," she assures us. "You can wait in the consultation room. I'll have someone bring you the results as soon as they're ready."
Wenli leaves to get drinks while I settle into one of the comfortable chairs to wait. The room is quiet, almost too quiet, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
What if I really am pregnant?
The question has been circling in my mind since the lemon cake incident, but now it feels more real. More immediate.
What would I do?
Keep it, obviously. The thought of not keeping it doesn't even cross my mind. But what then?
Raise a child alone while hiding from Qingyue?
Tell him and risk... what, exactly?
Risk him wanting to be involved, a small voice whispers.
Risk him being happy about it.
I press my hand against my chest, where that persistent warmth has been living for days. The bond—if that's what it is—pulses gently, as if responding to my emotional turmoil.
What do you want? I ask it silently. What are you trying to tell me?
But there's no answer.
Just that steady, warm presence that feels both comforting and terrifying.
Wenli returns with drinks—lemon juice for me, tea for himself—and settles into the chair beside me.
"So," he says, taking a sip of his tea. "Want to hear about my trip to America?"
I'm grateful for the distraction. "Please."
He tells me about the business meetings, the new contracts he secured, the skyline of New York at night. And then he mentions someone new.
"I met this guy, Luca. He's from Italy originally, but he's been working in international business for years." Wenli's expression becomes more animated. "Speaks perfect Korean because one of his cousins lives in Seoul. Smart, funny, totally unimpressed by corporate posturing. I think you'd like him."
"He invited you to his wedding, didn't he?" I can already tell from Wenli's tone.
"Of course he did." Wenli grins. "And I'm going to ask if he's willing to have you as a my plus-one. You need more friends who aren't involved in your... business."
He means the mafia.
He's right, of course. Most of my social circle is either family or people who work for me.
Having someone outside that world might be refreshing.
"I'd like that," I say honestly.
We continue talking, Wenli filling the anxious silence with stories and observations, until finally—after twenty-six minutes that feel like hours—we're called back into the consultation room.
Dr. Chen is waiting, a folder of results in front of her. She's smiling.
That's either very good or very complicated.
I force my expression to remain calm even as my heart hammers against my ribs. Wenli's hand finds mine under the table, squeezing gently.
"Congratulations, Mr. Huang," Dr. Chen says, her smile widening. "You're pregnant. About five to six days along, based on your hormone levels."
The world tilts.
Pregnant.
The word echoes in my head, simultaneously abstract and devastatingly real.
There's another living soul inside me.
Growing. Dependent on me for everything.
Qingyue's child.
Our child.
"How?" The question bursts out before I can stop it. "I'm a recessive omega. My father is too, and it took him and my mother months of trying before they conceived their first child. Years between pregnancies. How is this possible after one night?"
Dr. Chen's expression becomes more serious, shifting into teaching mode. "That's an excellent question, and the answer is more complex than you might think. May I ask—is your mother a dominant alpha?"
"No." I shake my head. "She's an alpha, but not dominant."
"And your siblings?"
"I have two. My older brother Wenlan is a dominant alpha, but he hasn't lived at home consistently since he was eighteen. My younger sister is an alpha as well, also not dominant."
Dr. Chen nods, making a note. "And your partner—the father. Is he a dominant alpha?"
My throat tightens.
"Yes."
"I see." She sets down her pen and leans forward slightly. "Here's what's happening. Recessive omegas like you and your father have a much lower natural fertility rate. Under normal circumstances, with a regular alpha partner and no other factors, pregnancy would indeed be very difficult to achieve."
"But?" I prompt, because I can hear the 'but' coming.
"But you've been exposed to unusually high concentrations of dominant alpha pheromones. Your brother, despite not living at home full-time, is still family. You can't smell each other's pheromones directly, but there's still an influence. His presence, even intermittently, has been affecting your body chemistry your entire life."
Wenli shifts beside me, clearly not having known this detail.
"Add to that," Dr. Chen continues, "exposure to another dominant alpha—your partner—during a heat cycle when your body was actively seeking to conceive, and the odds shift dramatically. Dominant alpha pheromones trigger stronger ovulation responses in recessive omegas. It's one of the reasons why dominant alpha and recessive omega pairings, while rare, often result in pregnancy much faster than expected."
She pauses, gauging my reaction. "There's also the matter of biological compatibility. Sometimes, certain pairings are simply more... fertile than others. Your body and your partner's appear to be highly compatible."
Biologically compatible.
Fated.
The words my family would use. The words the old traditions speak of.
I feel like I might be sick.
"Excuse me," I manage to say, standing abruptly. "Where's the bathroom?"
I barely make it to the toilet before my stomach rebels, the lemon juice coming back up in acidic waves.
Wenli is there immediately, holding my hair back, rubbing gentle circles on my back.
"It's okay," he murmurs. "It's okay, just breathe."
When the nausea finally passes, I sit back against the cool tile wall, trembling.
"Morning sickness already?" Wenli asks gently.
"Probably stress," I mutter. "The morning sickness won't start for another week or two, according to everything I've read."
"You've been reading about pregnancy?" His tone is careful, neutral.
"I had to know what to expect." The admission feels like defeat. Like accepting this is real.
Because it is real. The test results don't lie.
There's a baby—my baby—growing inside me right now.
Wenli helps me stand, and we make our way back to the sink. I rinse my mouth, splash cold water on my face, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
"Are you alright?" he asks after I've finished.
"Yeah." I dry my face with paper towels. "I feel better than before."
We start walking back toward the consultation room to collect my prescriptions and information packets, but Wenli stops me with a hand on my arm.
"You know I didn't mean this." His expression is serious, almost worried. "What if he finds out?"
I turn my gaze away, unable to meet his eyes. "He won't."
I'm not sure if I'm reassuring him or myself.
Wenli doesn't push, but I can see the concern etched into his features.
He wants to argue, wants to tell me that hiding a pregnancy from a bonded alpha is dangerous and difficult and probably impossible.
But he doesn't. He just holds the door for me as we leave.
We collect everything from Dr. Chen—prenatal vitamins, dietary recommendations, a schedule for future appointments. She congratulates me again, tells me to take care of myself, reminds me that stress isn't good for the baby.
As if I could just stop being stressed.
In the car, Wenli and I sit in silence for a long moment before he speaks.
"We're still leaving next week. Together."
It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Yes."
"Ruofei..." He hesitates. "The separation from Qingyue. It's going to make the symptoms worse."
"I know." I stare out the window at the hospital parking lot. "Dr. Chen mentioned it. But we're bonded, so it won't harm the baby. Just make me more uncomfortable."
"More uncomfortable," Wenli repeats flatly. "You mean miserable."
"Probably." I finally look at him. "But I need to leave. I need space to think, to figure out what I'm going to do. And I can't do that here, not with him so close."
Not with the bond pulling me toward him, urging me to go to him, to tell him, to let him help.
Wenli studies me for a long moment, then nods. "Okay. We'll go to Korea as planned. But Ruofei, you need to tell him eventually. This isn't something you can hide forever."
"I know." My hand drifts to my still-flat stomach. "I just... I need time."
Time to process.
Time to prepare.
Time to figure out how to tell the man I love that he's going to be a father—and that I'm terrified of what that means for both of us.
The drive to Wenli's private villa is quiet. He doesn't press me for more conversation, doesn't demand answers I don't have.
He just drives, occasionally glancing over to make sure I'm okay.
The villa appears through the trees—a beautiful, sprawling property with extensive grounds that offer both privacy and peace.
I've always loved this place. Whenever I'm feeling overwhelmed, I come here to remember happier times.
Simpler times.
Times before I knew what it felt like to be bonded to someone I can't have.
"I'll make dinner," Wenli says as we enter. "You should rest."
I don't argue. The exhaustion is hitting me now, emotional and physical, dragging at my limbs.
My room here is exactly as I left it—comfortable bed, soft lighting, familiar belongings I've accumulated over years of visits.
I collapse onto the mattress and let my eyes close.
Just for a moment.
"Ruofei? Dinner's ready."
Wenli's voice pulls me from the edge of sleep.
I blink groggily, realizing I actually dozed off for almost an hour.
In the kitchen, he's laid out a simple but nutritious meal.
We eat in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
The food is good, but I can barely taste it.
My mind keeps circling back to the same thoughts.
Pregnant.
I'm pregnant.
With Qingyue's baby.
What am I going to do?
After dinner, Wenli suggests watching a movie.
I agree, grateful for any distraction, and settle onto the comfortable couch while he scrolls through options.
But I can't focus on the screen. Can't stop thinking about the tiny life growing inside me.
Him or her, I think, hand drifting unconsciously to my stomach.
I wonder which it'll be.
A smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it. Despite everything—the fear, the uncertainty, the impossible situation—there's something almost miraculous about this.
I'm going to be a parent.
"What happened, baby?" Wenli asks, abandoning the movie selection to sit beside me.
His arms wrap around me from behind, solid and comforting, and I lean back into the embrace gratefully.
"I still can't believe this happened," I admit, staring at the wall across from us.
"I understand." His voice is gentle against my ear. "Are you angry?"
Am I?
I search my feelings, trying to untangle the complex knot of emotions in my chest.
"No," I say finally. "I'm not angry. I just... I hope he won't find out." My hand presses more firmly against my stomach, protective. "I want to protect it with my life. Protect it from him."
The words hurt to say, because they're not entirely true. I don't want to protect the baby from Qingyue—I want to protect it from the situation.
From the politics and the family feuds and the complications that come with our relationship.
But those feel like the same thing right now.
Wenli's grip tightens, pulling me closer. "I promise," he says fiercely. "I will never tell him."
I turn in his arms and hug him properly.
"Thank you, soulmate. I hope we can just stay like this forever, protecting each other."
The way we always have. The way we always will.
Wenli's POV:
My baby is slowly breaking, and it's all because of him.
Ruofei has loved Qingyue since he first understood what love meant. Maybe even before that—some instinctive recognition that this person was important, was meant to be his.
And how did Qingyue repay that love?
He orchestrated a situation where Ruofei was drugged and vulnerable.
He took advantage of a heat cycle.
He bonded Ruofei without clear consent.
And then he just... left. Disappeared. Hasn't even tried to contact him, hasn't checked if he's okay.
Now Ruofei is pregnant, terrified, and planning to run to another country just to escape the man who should be protecting him.
I tried to save my him.
Tried to warn him about Qingyue, about the dangers of loving someone from an enemy family.
But he loved him too much.
It's too late now. Too fucking late.
The worst part is, even if Ruofei didn't want to return to Korea with me, I would take him there by force if necessary.
Lock him in my house, hire security, do whatever it takes to keep him away from Qingyue until he's strong enough to make clear decisions.
Thankfully, I don't need to. He's choosing to come.
But I can see the way it's tearing him apart. The bond pulling him one direction, his fear and self-preservation pulling him another.
"How about we go to bed early, baby?" I suggest, noting how pale and exhausted he looks. "You look tired."
"What about the movie?" He glances at the TV, where I haven't even selected anything yet.
"We can watch it next time."
I stand and gently pull him to his feet, then—knowing he's too tired and emotionally drained to protest—I simply lift him into my arms.
He's stronger than most omegas, thanks to his training and lifestyle.
Somewhere between a beta and omega in terms of physical capability.
But right now, he feels fragile in my arms.
Breakable.
"Alright," he murmurs, not even bothering to protest being carried.
I take him to the bedroom and lay him carefully on the bed.
I'm about to leave—give him privacy to sleep—when his hand catches my wrist.
"Could you stay here with me tonight?"
The question is small, vulnerable in a way Ruofei rarely allows himself to be.
I smile. "Of course, baby."
I climb into bed beside him, and he immediately curls into my side, seeking comfort the way he used to when we were younger and the world felt too big and scary.
"Good night," I whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
"Night," he mumbles back, already half-asleep.
Within minutes, his breathing evens out, and I know he's asleep.
But I can't sleep.
My mind keeps replaying everything—the pregnancy confirmation, Ruofei's terror, his determination to hide this from Qingyue. The way he touched his stomach with such protective tenderness.
How could that monster ruin him so much?
Qingyue doesn't deserve him.
Doesn't deserve to know about the baby.
Doesn't deserve the love that Ruofei has been holding onto for three years.
I remember when Chenyu took me. When he forced the change, turned me from beta to omega against my will.
The terror, the violation, the sense of losing control over my own body.
Ruofei saved me from that.
Risked everything to get me away from Chenyu, to make sure I was safe.
And now he's in a similar situation—bonded without clear consent, pregnant when he didn't plan to be, trapped by biology and politics and a love he can't control.
I couldn't save him from this.
But I can protect him now.
I swear, I think, holding my best friend closer. I will protect you until the end of my life.
Especially from that monster.
Just like you protected me from Chenyu.
Even if it means keeping you away from the person you love.
Even if it means you hate me for it someday.
I'll protect you.
No matter what.