Page 62 of Scaled Daddy's Secret Heir
And neither does the memory of him.
Kalev. Hands braced on either side of my head. Breath hot against my skin. That voice—deep, gravel-smooth, wrecked with wanting. The way he said my name like it was the only word he remembered. That night. Thatmoment.
My mouth goes dry.
I reach for water, but my hands are trembling too badly to hold the cup.
This can’t be happening. Not now. Not here. Not with the war still breathing down our necks and the Alliance pulling tighter on every leash they can find.
But it is.
And itismine.
Ours.
Kalev’s and mine.
I don’t tell him.
I get back to the surface, scrub my logs, clear the console. I fake a cough, beg off second shift, and lock myself in my quarters until I can breathe again without hyperventilating.
Kalev knocks twice that night.
Doesn’t push when I say I’m tired.
Doesn’t know he’s already inside me in ways neither of us saw coming.
The next day, I spend forty minutes on a bench outside the north conduit, watching the heat ripple across the concrete andwondering if it’s always been this loud. The world. My thoughts. My blood.
I’m not ready.
I don’t know how to be ready.
I’ve spent my whole life surviving—never once planning. Never once imagining what it would mean to have something that was just… mine. Something fragile. Something worth fighting for in a way that has nothing to do with orders or cause or control.
I laugh, sharp and bitter.
I am not a mother.
I’m a damn ghost, barely stitched together. A former League mole with half a file and twice the enemies.
And yet…
I press a hand to my abdomen again, fingers trembling.
Still nothing.
But everything’s different.
The orders arrive at 0300.Kalev’s still asleep, his forearm draped over my ribs like an unconscious tether. He sleeps heavy, deep—like a man who’s used to waking up under fire. It’s the only time his face softens.
I slip out from under him without waking him.
The screen is waiting, pulsing with a message from Command.
Priority Black Protocol Initiated.
Agent: Trin, Leah.
