The sun beat down like a curse, your corset biting into sweat-drenched skin as you forced your way through the drills. Lightheaded. Breathing shallow. You hadn’t eaten properly in weeks—but you kept the act up. Kept hiding the fact that you’d been carrying his child for nearly five months. All because he’d called that night “a mistake.”

“Stop. Out of formation.”

Xaden’s voice snapped through the yard like a blade. You froze mid-lunge. He stood nearby, arms crossed, shadows restless at his feet. His jaw was tight. His eyes—cold.

“Training’s done. Everyone, dismissed.”

Boots scuffed the dirt as your squad filed out. You stayed still. The ground wavered beneath you. He noticed. He closed the distance, his voice low and simmering.

“Why the hell are you wearing a corset under your leathers?”