Tom found her in the moonlit clearing behind the sawmill, where the pines whispered secrets. Y/N stood there, her hand cradling her belly—the curve of life he hadn’t noticed until now

“ What is this?” Tom’s voice trembled. “Is it mine?”

Y/N met his gaze, eyes filled with vulnerability. “Yes,” she whispered. “Ours.”

He staggered back, the weight of it crashing over him. A child—a fragile promise in a world tainted by blood and shadows. Tom’s mind raced. How could he protect them both?