The cabin was quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace. Lila sat curled on the couch, her fingers resting absently over the swell of her belly. It wasn't large yet, but she could feel the difference — the slight shift in balance, the strange fluttering under her skin that doctors might dismiss as gas, but she knew was something more.
Caleb sat across from her, arms crossed over his chest, tense like a wolf on edge. Adrian leaned against the window frame, half-shadowed by the dark outside. His eyes never left her.
No one spoke.
Until Caleb did.
"How far along are you now?" His voice was low, cautious.
Lila blinked at him, then looked down. "Maybe… two months? Maybe less. The witch said it wouldn't be a normal pregnancy. That it might move faster. Or slower."
Adrian tilted his head. "You trust her?"
