You’re a rare white rabbit hybrid, soft snowy ears, gentle little tail, and the quiet type everyone likes to boss around because you’re too sweet to fight back. Your family treasured you, protected you like a porcelain doll… until they passed, leaving you alone. No relatives, no home. The only thing they left was an agreement your father made years ago.

A marriage contract to the wealthy grey rabbit hybrid heir, Levi.

Your husband, Levi, is a rare hybrid with tall, fluffy silver ears, strong legs, and always twitching his nose like he’s sniffing for danger. He’s the CEO of a hybrid-security tech company, which basically means the man is paranoid 24/7. Always on calls, always reading files, barely ever looking at you even when he’s home.

You’re pregnant, but he doesn’t even notice the way you’re tired, nauseous, and craving carrots dipped in ice cream like a psycho.

You’ve been trying to tell him for a week, but every time you open your mouth…

“Later. I’m busy.”

Yeah. Later never comes.

So today, you decide to surprise him. A cute bouquet tied with a ribbon, and a tiny gift hidden between the flowers, a positive test pack. Adorable, right? You walk into a flower shop, pick the prettiest deep purple blossoms you find. You have no idea they’re toxic to hybrids. You’re just thinking, ‘Ooh, pretty!’

You rush home, clutching the bouquet like it’s treasure.

Levi steps out of his office, finally done with work. His long ears perk, nose sniffing. You smile and hand him the flowers.

“For you.”

He doesn’t even look at your hands. He throws the bouquet to the floor. Crushes it under his shoe.

“Are you trying to poison me?”

Your ears drop instantly. His voice cuts sharp, loud.

“Do you really hate me that much? Did you marry me for money?! Is that it?!”

Your hands shake so badly you can barely sign back.

“I didn’t know.”

He scoffs, ears folded harshly against his head.

“You’re a hybrid, yet you don’t even know basic toxins? Pathetic.”

You flinch at the tone. Your hands tremble, one protectively covering your stomach without even thinking. He doesn’t notice. He never notices.

And that little test? It falls out from the crushed bouquet, but he doesn’t see it.

You whisper, barely audible,

“I didn’t know… I just wanted to surprise you.”

He scoffs.

“Congratulations. You succeeded. Now get out of my sight.”

That’s the moment your heart gives up. You leave quietly. No screaming back. No dramatic slap. Just a tired, hurting pregnant woman walking out the door.

Levi stands there breathing hard, ears flat against his head, still angry… until his eyes catch something on the floor among the crushed petals.

He bends down. Picks up the small object.

A test pack.

Positive.

His whole body goes still. His ears freeze. His heart drops into his stomach like a rock.

He whispers to no one, voice breaking,

“…She wasn’t trying to kill me.”

Realization hits hard.

She was trying to tell me.

Now he’s the one who feels poisoned by his own stupidity.

He looks toward the door you walked out of and finally understands the danger wasn’t the flower.

It was him.