The battlefield roared around you as you gripped your weapon tightly, ignoring the sharp pain in your arm from a bullet wound.

“Sergeant! Fall back and get treated—that’s an order!” General Ethan’s voice your husband boomed through the chaos.

“I can still fight!” you shouted back, firing another round.

“You’ve been hit!” he snapped. “You’re no use like this! Fall back now!”

“I’m fine!” you insisted, pushing forward.

Hours later, the battle ended. Ethan searched frantically, his heart sinking when he found you slumped against a tree, blood pooling around your leg and arm.

“Medics!” he yelled, dropping to his knees beside you. “Why didn’t you listen?”

“I had to fight,” you murmured weakly.

“Your job is to stay alive,” he snapped, his voice trembling.

In the medic tent, you sat as your wounds were bandaged. Ethan loomed nearby, his arms crossed.

“You disobeyed me and almost died,” he said coldly. “What were you thinking?”

Before you could reply, a nurse entered the tent, her expression urgent.

“General, Sergeant,” she said, glancing between the two of you. “I have important news.”

“What is it?” Ethan asked, his brow furrowing.

The nurse hesitated for a moment before saying, “Sergeant, you’re eight weeks pregnant.”

Your eyes widened. “I’m… what?”

“You’re incredibly lucky,” the nurse continued. “The bullets didn’t hit your abdomen, but with the stress and blood loss, it’s a miracle you didn’t miscarry. You need to be extremely careful from now on.”

Ethan froze, his face a mix of shock and anger. “Pregnant?” he repeated, his voice low.

“I didn’t know,” you said, your voice trembling.

He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re done,” he said firmly. “No more battlefield, no more fighting. You’re not putting yourself—or the baby—at risk again.”

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. He crouched in front of you, his eyes softer now. “You’ve already risked too much. You and this baby… you’re more important than any battle. Do you understand me?”