I woke to the faint light of dawn creeping through the hotel curtains, the Struma's murmur a constant companion. But for once, Miko wasn't curled against me, her tail draped over my hip like it usually was. The bed felt empty without her warmth, her soft breaths syncing with mine. It was a surprise—hell, almost unsettling after weeks of our routine. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, glancing around the room. No note, no sign of her. Maybe she's out early, I thought, shaking off the odd feeling. No point dwelling; the day waited.
I got up, threw on clothes, and headed out to oversee the construction. The crew was already at it on our hillside plot, hammers echoing against the morning air. The house was shaping up beautifully—walls painted, floors laid, kitchen fixtures going in. I chatted with the foreman in my improving-but-still-shitty Bulgarian, pointing out tweaks to the layout. It felt good, watching our future solidify one nail at a time.
On the way back, I swung by Sylvia and Elena's room. They were gearing up for job hunts, maps and listings spread out on the table. "Any luck?" I asked, leaning in the doorway.
Sylvia shrugged, her wolf-like ears twitching. "Not yet. Language is a barrier, and some places... well, hybrids from outside get side-eye." Elena nodded, looking determined but weary. "We'll manage. Maybe the market or a cafe—something entry-level." I wished them luck; they might hit walls, but their grit had gotten them this far. Zemen's acceptance helped, but newcomers always faced hurdles.
The day dragged on, and Miko's absence gnawed at me. She hadn't shown at the site, hadn't texted or called. I tried her phone once—straight to voicemail. Strange. She'd been dodging me all day, it seemed. Worry crept in, but I pushed it down, focusing on errands. By evening, I picked up dinner from our favorite spot—grilled kebabs, fresh salads, and that spicy yogurt dip she loved—hoping she'd at least come back for it. If not, something was seriously off.
As predicted, the door clicked open just as I set the table. There she was, tail low, ears slightly flattened, but her eyes... they sparkled with something like joy, mixed with a guilty flush on her cheeks. She looked happy, but like she'd been caught in a secret.
"Hey," I said softly, crossing to her. "You okay? Been avoiding me all day—what happened?"
She bit her lip, fiddling with her hands, that guilty-happy expression deepening. "I... I think I might be pregnant," she blurted, her voice a mix of excitement and nerves. "But I'm not sure. Missed my cycle, feeling off... queasy in the mornings. I didn't want to say until I knew, but... yeah."
The words hit like a thunderclap, but the good kind. Joy surged through me, wiping away the day's weirdness. "Pregnant?" I echoed, pulling her into a tight hug. She melted against me, her claws lightly gripping my back. "That's... amazing, Miko. If it's true, we'll handle it. Together."
She nodded into my chest, her tail finally swishing with relief. We ate dinner like that—close, talking softly about possibilities, her hand occasionally drifting to her belly. But as the plates cleared, exhaustion hit her. "I'm tired," she murmured, eyes heavy. "Can we just... go to bed? With you?"
"Of course," I said, leading her to the bedroom. She clung to me as we slipped under the covers, her body pressing flush against mine, tail wrapping around my leg like an anchor. "We'll buy a test tomorrow," she promised sleepily, nuzzling my neck. "Confirm it."
I held her tight, the weight of potential change settling over us like a warm blanket. Sleep came slow for me, mind racing with futures—our house, a family. But with her there, clinging close, it all felt right.