His reflection

The morning light streamed softly through the sheer curtains, casting golden hues over the bed. I stirred awake, my body sore yet satisfied, wrapped in the warmth of another. The rhythmic rise and fall of Nathan's chest beneath my fingertips brought a strange sense of peace, a feeling I hadn't allowed myself to embrace in a long time.

Everything felt… right. Too right.

I hesitated, inhaling his familiar scent, a mix of cedarwood and something uniquely him. The bond we shared wasn't born of instinctual pheromones or an unbreakable biological connection, yet it was something equally profound. My fingers grazed over my stomach absentmindedly. Nothing showed yet, no swelling, no visible proof of the life growing inside me, but I could feel it. A silent presence. A reminder of everything that had changed.

Nathan stirred beside me, his eyes fluttering open, his lips curling into that charming, effortless smile.

"Morning, love," he murmured, his voice husky from sleep.

I barely had time to respond before his lips captured mine in a slow, teasing kiss. One kiss turned into another, then another. His hands traced down my spine, drawing me flush against him. A soft moan escaped my lips as his mouth trailed down my neck.

"You're insatiable," I breathed, half-laughing, half-melting into his touch.

"Can't help it," he murmured against my skin. "You make it impossible to stop."

And he didn't.

By the time we were finally finished, the sun had climbed well past noon. My body ached deliciously, my skin tingling with the lingering warmth of his touch. I sat up, running my hands over my belly again. There was no visible bump, but the thought of what lay beneath made my heart pound in an odd mixture of fear and tenderness.

Nathan, as if sensing my thoughts, reached out and covered my hand with his.

"You don't have to go through this alone," he whispered. "Whatever you decide… I'm here."

His words sent a comforting warmth through me, but doubt still lingered like a shadow. I hadn't told my family. I hadn't even begun to process how they would react—how my brother would react. Would they be disappointed? Angry? Would they still look at me the same way?

The fear of their judgment kept me quiet as Nathan drove me home. I stood outside my house for a long moment before finally stepping inside, forcing a casual greeting to my family before retreating to my room.

Alone, I sat on the bed, hands placed protectively over my belly.

Why… why was everything so easy?

I should be in pain. Without Julls' pheromones, my body should be rejecting the pregnancy, suffering from withdrawal. So why wasn't I?

The thought sent a chill down my spine. Something didn't add up.

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, a soft tap echoed from my window.

I snapped my head toward the sound. Another pebble hit the glass.

Curious, I moved toward the window and peeked out. My breath caught.

Nathan.

He stood outside, his usual cocky grin in place, dark crimson hair slightly ruffled by the wind. It was a wonder how effortlessly he scaled the wall up to my balcony, pulling himself over the railing with ease.

"Missed me already?" he teased, stepping closer.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and threw my arms around him, inhaling his familiar scent. Warmth, safety, home.

"Of course I did," I whispered against his chest.

His arms wrapped around me, strong and firm. His scent flooded my senses, and I melted into him, my heart finally settling after an entire day of unease. My fingers tangled in his hair as our lips met, the kiss deep and intoxicating. The air around us heated quickly, tension crackling like fire.

Then—

Something caught my eye.

The glass balcony door reflected our embrace, our bodies entwined in the golden glow of the room.

But—

The reflection wasn't Nathan.

A cold wave of terror surged through me.

In the glass, Nathan's form was wrong—or rather, the man holding me was wrong. His hair wasn't dark red. It was dark as black. His skin was paler, almost too perfect, unnatural.

My breath hitched, my entire body locking up.

No. No, no, no. This wasn't happening.

A violent shudder crawled up my spine, my fingers trembling against the fabric of Nathan's shirt. My mind screamed at me not to turn around, not to look.

But I did.

My eyes darted up, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Nathan's brown eyes met mine, filled with confusion at my sudden stiffness. His lips parted to ask something, but the words never reached me.

Because in the reflection—

Julls was smiling.