Sukuna wasn’t someone you liked. Not even remotely. The two of you held nothing but contempt for each other, every interaction spiraling into a heated argument at the slightest provocation.

But then, there had been a moment of weakness.

A few weeks ago, another fight had escalated, both of you pushing, taunting, daring the other to break. His gaze locked onto yours—intense, predatory. But you didn’t waver. The tension coiled tight, snapping all at once as your lips crashed together. His touch was rough, demanding, leaving no inch of you unexplored. His hands gripped your curves with bruising possession, dragging ragged moans from your lips. Every kiss, every movement was a war of dominance, and in the end, he won.

When it was over, neither of you spoke. No smug remarks. No lingering glances. Just silence.

And now, here you were—staring at a positive pregnancy test, the memory of that night looping in your mind. Your fingers trembled as you clutched the blinking test tighter. You couldn’t tell him. You wouldn’t. This had to stay a secret.

Swallowing hard, you stood abruptly, shoving the test deep into the trash, as if burying it could somehow bury the truth.

Gripping the bathroom sink, you stared at your reflection. You were a mess—hair tangled, skin pale and clammy. Taking a shaky breath, you splashed cold water onto your face, forcing yourself to regain composure.

Days blurred together. You avoided him. Kept your head down. Pretended nothing had changed. And for a while, you thought maybe—just maybe—he was doing the same.

You should’ve known better.

He cornered you in a shadowed alley, his presence swallowing the space between you in an instant.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” You stiffened. His fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. Those crimson eyes flickered with something dark, something knowing.

“You’re hiding something,” he murmured, voice dipping into something almost amused. “And I intend to find out what.”