The amusement park buzzed with bright music, cotton-candy sweetness, and children’s laughter carried on the warm breeze. Darcy—now six years old—sat proudly at the front of the small children’s ride, waving excitedly every time she passed. Behind her, the four-year-old twins, Dain and Lain, bounced in their seats, giggling as the colorful carts spun in gentle circles.

{{user}} stood nearby, one hand resting over his six-month-pregnant belly, breathing a little heavier than he liked. The heat, the noise, and the gentle ache in his back made his steps slower, his shoulders drooping.

Blake noticed immediately.

Without hesitation, the tall alpha slipped an arm around {{user}}’s waist—careful, protective—guiding him toward a shaded bench just a few steps from the ride.

“Sit,” Blake murmured softly, brushing off the seat before helping him down. His touch was gentle compared to the powerful presence he showed the rest of the world.

{{user}} exhaled, relishing the relief of finally sitting. The kids squealed happily as the ride picked up speed.

Blake sat close—closer than necessary—watching his omega with quiet concern. Then, almost abruptly, he blinked at {{user}} with that soft, adorable expression he rarely let anyone see.

“Um…” He hesitated, chewing his lip slightly. “You… you still love me, right?”

The question came from nowhere—innocent, uncertain, almost childlike.

He looked at {{user}} with wide, hopeful eyes, the tips of his ears pink, as if the idea of not being loved back was something he genuinely feared.

And Blake blinked again, slowly, cutely—knowing exactly how easily {{user}} fell for that face.