Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
It took him longer than it should have to realize that Dainiri was at its full phase and yet he wasn’t experiencing any symptoms of a heat. He should have been experiencing the usual symptoms: the high sensitivity and higher libido, the moodiness and need for comfort. He might be on very strong suppressants, but even the strongest suppressants couldn’t entirely suppress a Dainiri omega’s heat.
Lucien felt a twinge of anxiety. He couldn’t be... he couldn’t be pregnant, could he? It was highly unlikely for a male omega to get pregnant outside of a heat. But not impossible. Especially when it was a Dainiri omega and the partner was a Xeus alpha—the pairing that was considered the most fertile. It wasn’t impossible.
Not impossible.
His heart beating faster, Lucien made an appointment with his doctor.
On the way to the clinic, he could barely think of anything else. The mere idea of... of being pregnant again... It didn’t make him nauseated and scared as it had decades ago. It would be Aksel’s baby. A baby given to him by Aksel... A baby he could give to Aksel. A cute little baby with Aksel’s blue eyes and dark hair. Something they had created together.
And God, he... He wanted that. Lucien pressed his hands to his stomach and smiled helplessly.
His smile was gone when his doctor shook her head after running a quick blood test. “You’re not pregnant, Lucien.”
Oh.
Lucien blinked, feeling lost—and ridiculously disappointed. He’d been so convinced that he was pregnant.
“But your lack of heat symptoms is concerning,” she said, frowning. “We’ll need to run more tests. And then I’ll do an ultrasound.”
Half an hour later, Lucien was seated opposite his doctor, a knot of anxiety in his stomach.
She looked unusually grim as she looked at his bloodwork. “That’s what I’ve been afraid of,” she said with a sigh. “Your body is not producing the hormones it should. A Dainiri omega’s body is supposed to constantly produce eggs, which are released by the ovaries during your heat—and sometimes outside of your heat, though it’s rare. But you do not have an egg to release right now. That’s why your body is not reacting to the full moon as it should.”
“What does it mean?” Lucien said quietly.
She frowned. “It means you have an anovulatory cycle. It’s quite normal in female betas of your age, but not for omegas. Usually... usually omegas start getting anovulatory cycles right before the end of their fertile years.”
Lucien felt like he had been punched in his stomach. “But... But I’m only thirty-five.”
“Yes. You should have still been at the peak of your fertility,” she said. “Normally, Dainiri omegas start getting anovulatory cycles after the age of forty-five, sometimes fifty. But your case is unique. You have been on very strong suppressants for two decades. You haven’t experienced a natural heat in ages. It was inevitable that such abuse of suppressants would affect your fertility. I have warned you about it, Lucien.”
She had, a decade ago. And he’d brushed her concerns off. It had seemed irrelevant back then. It had seemed like a good thing. Why would he worry about the early loss of his heats?
And now...
Lucien wet his lips with his tongue. “How long do I have until the end of my fertile years?”
She shook her head. “It’s impossible to say. This might be just an odd anovulatory cycle or you might never get another heat again. We’ll have to wait and see.” She pursed her lips and seemed to hesitate. Her voice was soft when she spoke again. “Even if your heats return, I have to warn you that it’s unlikely you’ll be able to get pregnant or carry to term. The suppressants have altered your reproductive system too much.”
Lucien barely remembered thanking the doctor and saying goodbye to her. He barely remembered how he got home, his mind buzzing with a single thought he couldn’t let go of.
His body was defective. Ruined irrevocably. His body wasn’t good at the very thing omegas were supposed to be good for.
He was defective.
Lucien sat down on his bed and stared at the opposite wall unseeingly.
He was defective.
He’d always known that, but having it actually confirmed was...
The knock on his door barely made him react. It couldn’t be Aksel, because Aksel wouldn’t knock. It was a good thing it wasn’t Aksel or he would burst into tears and cling to him like a baby, wanting to be comforted. Aksel couldn’t comfort him, not about this. Not when he was part of the reason why he felt like this. That baby with Aksel’s eyes that he had imagined? It would never exist.
It would never exist.
“It’s rather rude not to open your door when someone is knocking,” a familiar voice said sharply.
Lucien turned his head and found himself looking at Vagrippa.
In other circumstances, he would have felt worried and annoyed by her uninvited presence in his room. Now he felt nothing. He couldn’t summon any feeling.