A week.
It had been a week since Riven peed on that little stick in a gas station bathroom and watched two terrifying pink lines appear like they were announcing the apocalypse. Since then, his life had gone completely off the rails.
He was broke.
He was nauseous.
And he was absolutely, 100%, undeniably pregnant.
He wasn't even sure who the Alpha was.
Or… Alphas. He tried not to think about that too hard.
Ria hadn't come back after kicking him out, and Riven had ended up dragging his sorry, sore ass to a cheap public hostel near the edge of the city. The kind where they shoved six people in a room and gave you a paper-thin mattress and a locker that barely fit your shoes. No privacy. No air conditioning. Definitely no scent blockers.
He'd been dousing himself in deodorant, body spray, and some perfume he stole from Ria's old bag. The result was… a scent disaster. At one point, one of his bunkmates (a suspiciously curious Beta with no sense of boundaries) sniffed and tilted his head like a dog.
"You smell like a heatwave in a flower shop," the guy muttered.
Riven hadn't even looked up. "Thanks. That's exactly what I was going for."
Now, seven days later, his stomach churned as he adjusted the wig on his head and fixed the last of the concealer over the bonding mark at the base of his throat. The makeup felt thick and cakey. But it would have to do.
He couldn't afford to wait anymore. If the pregnancy advanced, it would get harder to hide. The last thing he needed was some nosey Alpha catching wind of his scent and dragging him into a facility for "omega health protocols."
Which, he was pretty sure, translated to forced suppression and maybe even termination.
Nope. Not happening.
So he did the only logical, completely unhinged thing he could think of.
He decided to visit the CEO.
The one who may or may not be the father.
Or one of the fathers.
Ria had once said the man practically owned half the city. She'd also mentioned that he didn't tolerate liars or weakness.
And here Riven was: lying, trembling, and fully wearing his sister's clothes.
Perfect.
He got off the bus two blocks from the tall, glass-paneled building that loomed like a villain's lair. His legs were shaking the whole walk there. By the time he got to the reception desk, he was sweating buckets and could barely breathe.
The woman at the desk looked up, clearly recognizing him.
Or… her.
"Miss Ria," she said, smiling politely. "You're here early. Did you have an appointment with Mr. Ares today?"
Mr. Ares. Right. That was his name. Definitely not intimidating at all.
Riven smiled. Or tried to. It was more like a grimace. "Uh, no. I just—needed to speak to him. It's urgent."
The receptionist didn't question it. Just nodded and clicked something on her screen.
"You're lucky. He's here. But he's in a meeting at the moment."
"Oh. Should I wait…?"
"You can wait in his office if you like," she said, already typing. "He'll be up in twenty minutes."
Riven's soul nearly left his body.
His heart was pounding. His fingers were clammy. Every cell in his body was screaming: ABORT MISSION. GO HOME. FAKE YOUR DEATH.
But instead, he nodded like a calm, reasonable person. "That'd be great. Thanks."
The elevator dinged, and before he could mentally scream any further, Riven was being escorted to the top floor.
The office was massive. Leather chairs. Glass walls. A desk that probably cost more than his life. He stepped inside slowly, clutching his bag like a lifeline, eyes darting around like a criminal.
Okay. This is fine. Just sit down. Don't faint. Don't cry. Don't puke.
He sat.
He waited.
And waited.
And somewhere between panic attack number three and contemplating how to throw himself out the window without dying too messily, he heard the elevator ding again.
Footsteps.
Shit.
This was it.
The door opened, and in walked him.
Ares.
In a dark suit, sleeves rolled just enough to show his veiny forearms. Tie loose. Eyes cold. He stopped the moment he saw Riven sitting in his chair.
There was a long, awkward pause.
Riven stood up way too fast and almost knocked the chair over. "I—I'm sorry," he blurted. "I needed to see you. I didn't have anywhere else to go."
Ares narrowed his eyes. "Ria?"
Riven nodded. "Yes. I'm—yeah."
Ares didn't look convinced. He walked in slowly, gaze fixed on Riven like he was trying to figure out a puzzle.
"Why are you here?"
Here it was. The moment he might die. Riven swallowed hard, backing up slightly.
"I… I know this is insane. And you probably hate me. Or you will. But I think—I think something happened during the heat."
Ares raised an eyebrow. "Something?"
Riven clenched his jaw. His throat felt tight. His fingers wouldn't stop shaking.
"I'm pregnant."
Silence.
Not a breath. Not a blink.
Riven forced a shaky laugh. "Surprise!"
Ares stared at him. Like really stared.
The kind of stare that made Riven sweat all over again and wish he'd just jumped off that bus bridge instead.
"And… I think it's yours. Or one of yours," Riven added, voice cracking a little. "There were… multiple people. I don't remember much. But I woke up with the mark. And the scent. And now—"
He broke off.
Ares still hadn't moved. He just walked around the desk, sat down slowly, and folded his hands together.
"You're not Ria."
Riven's mouth dried. "What?"
"You're not her," Ares said, voice cool. "You look like her. You sound like her. But your scent's different. And you're trembling."
Oh god.
Oh no.
Abort. Abort. Abort.
"I—" Riven backed up, voice shaking. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—I just needed to tell someone, and she wouldn't help, and I thought maybe if you knew, you'd do something or—or at least not kill me."
"Who are you?"
Riven looked down. His vision blurred a little. He pressed his lips together and whispered, "Her twin."
Silence again.
"I'm Riven," he added. "I'm an omega."
Ares tilted his head slightly. "You hid that well."
"I had to."
Still no expression on the Alpha's face.
Riven wrapped his arms around himself. "Please don't turn me in. Please. I'll figure it out. I just… I thought you should know."
Ares leaned back slowly. "You're pregnant. With possibly my child. And you impersonated your sister to get in here."
"I was desperate!"
"And what did you expect me to do?"
Riven blinked. "I don't know. Offer me money? Punch me? Call the cops? I had a few guesses."
Ares didn't smile. He stood, moving slow—too slow—and Riven's brain immediately started screaming oh no, I've seen this movie, the bunny does not make it.
He stopped just in front of him, hand coming up. Riven flinched, which in hindsight was embarrassing, because all Ares did was brush his thumb along the side of his neck.
The makeup came away, and so did Riven's will to live.
"That's mine," Ares said, voice low enough to rattle in his chest.
Riven's knees tried to mutiny. "Are you sure?"
"I don't forget my own mark."
…Okay, cool. So this was definitely the guy who bit him. And now he was standing close enough to count his eyelashes, looking like someone had just dropped a baby and a tax bill in his lap.
"Look," Riven mumbled, taking a step back. "You don't have to do anything. I'm not asking for child support or whatever. I'll disappear. I just thought you should know before I went into hiding or something."
Ares's eyes narrowed. "Why would you go into hiding?"
"Because I'm a male omega carrying a child out of wedlock and the father is a CEO Alpha with the power to make me vanish with a single phone call?" Riven deadpanned. "Just guessing."
Ares didn't laugh. He just stared at him long enough for Riven to start calculating the odds of surviving a dive out the nearest window.
"I'm gonna go," Riven said quickly, turning toward the door.
"Don't."
The word landed like a lock clicking shut and Riven froze.
"Sit back down," the Alpha said, voice calm but threaded with something that made Riven's instincts snap to attention. "We're going to talk about this properly."
Riven hesitated. "I—really?"
"Yes."
"…Do I get snacks?"
"No."
"Worth a shot," Riven muttered, shuffling back like a prisoner returning to his cell.