Bittersweet News and a Stark Dilemma

My mother's face lit up when I showed her the ultrasound picture. We were in the back room of Edric's bookshop, the familiar smell of old paper and dust motes dancing in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window.

"Oh, Hazel," Mom whispered, her fingers tracing the outline of the small bean-shaped blob. "My first grandchild."

Her eyes welled with tears, and I felt my own throat tighten in response. For a moment, I could pretend we were just a normal family sharing normal news. Not a pregnant Grey with supernatural powers hiding from rogue enemies while two of my fated mates were missing.

"I've been calling it Little Bean," I admitted, sitting beside her on the worn couch. Silas and Ronan stood nearby, watching our interaction with gentle smiles.

"Perfect nickname," Mom said, not looking up from the picture. "When are you due?"