You were reading a book around the Night Courts quarters during a peaceful starfall late at night with candles sat around you.

But suddenly, you’re unknown mate, Azriel, walked in, a flabbergasted expression on his face before he broke into a sob. He treaded forward, planting his hands on your knees and repeating the word ‘baby’.

Something had altered in your scent since the last morning you bid him farewell, allowing his male Illyrian nose glands to rest on him that you were pregnant.