The dawn slowly crept over the horizon in shades of pale, sickly grey. Inside the makeshift tent, the air was stagnant, smelling of salt, spent pheromones, and the lingering musk of the Alpha’s knot.

Harris woke up first. His body felt heavy, his muscles screaming from the cramped position on the dirt floor.

He felt a weight pressing on his chest from underneath him and looked down to see Kaelo still fast asleep, his dark hair sprawled over the dirt.

The Omega’s skin was flushed, and a thin, drying trail of semen was visible on his thigh—a stark, undeniable reminder of their flight to the stars.

The post-nut clarity hit Harris immediately, flattening him with guilt and regret.

He had been so over his head that he really did it. He not only came inside but also knotted him.

He was the head pilot for Cilian Vane. He was a divorced man who prided himself on his discipline. And yet, he had spent the night knotting a local boy he’d known for less than six hours.

At this rate, he had definitely gotten the innocent Omega pregnant.

God, what have I done? Harris thought, his throat dry. He looked at the radio unit sitting nearby—the ’mission’ he had supposedly been so focused on. It looked like a piece of junk now.

He carefully disentangled himself, trying not to wake the sleeping Omega as he finally pulled out his cock that had slept in that sticky mess.

He looked at it, limp now, and sticky with his cum and the Omega’s fluids.

Then, he gulped, feeling like he would definitely get hard if he stared at Kaelo any longer than he had.

As he pulled up his flight suit, he felt the soreness in his own hips, a reminder of the way he had hammered into Kaelo so hard his own hips bucked. His face went red, but he slapped it off.

Then, he looked at the kid’s peaceful face and felt a surge of something that wasn’t just guilt. It was a terrifying, protective warmth. At this rate, he could only think about taking responsibility. He wasn’t going to pretend that nothing had happened and abandon him when this Omega might likely already be pregnant with his child.

Back at the village, Ren had barely slept. He had spent the night listening to the island’s distant, rhythmic sounds, his mind spinning.

When he stepped out of the hut to wash his face in the communal basin, he ran right into Cilian.

Cilian looked entirely too groomed for someone who had crashed a plane seventy-two hours ago. He was leaning against a palm tree, idly tossing a small, sharpened stone into the air and catching it.

"You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Ren," Cilian remarked, his fox-like eyes glinting.

"I’m just tired of this place," Ren snapped, splashing cold water on his face. "And tired of you."

"Are you?" Cilian stepped closer, his shadow falling over Ren. "Well then, should I tell you something interesting?" he asked, and Ren’s brow tilted up.

Something interesting?

"Do you want to hear it or not?" His voice came out like a slither and Ren sighed.

"What is it? What is this interesting thing?

"I just saw our little guide, Kaelo, limping back toward his family’s hut."

"So?" Ren asked, unsure how that was something of interest.

"Well, it’s the direction he was coming from that will catch your attention. And guess where? It was the shore."

Ren blinked. The shore? As in... from the Pilot’s tent? Wait... what? His head did a little calculation.

It was still quite early. He shouldn’t have any business going on with the Captain.

And if he was coming from there right now, what time did he head there? And then there was the limping. Ren placed his hand over his mouth. This...

"It’s interesting, right?" Cilian added, liking the interest in Ren’s eyes. "He looked... well-fed. It seems your Captain Harris has a bit of a predatory streak himself."

The water was still dripping from his chin. He looked toward the path leading to the shore and then back to Cilian.

"He... he actually did it? With him?"

"Oh, he did more than just ’it,’ darling," Cilian chuckled, leaning in to whisper against Ren’s ear. "The scent of a successful knotting travels far on a quiet night. It seems Captain Harris has officially anchored himself to this rock."

Cilian’s hand slid down, resting possessively on Ren’s lower back, pushing him slightly forward.

"Which means," Cilian continued, his voice dropping into a dark, triumphant hum, "...even if the radio starts working... even if a ship appears on that horizon... the Captain might not be so eager to leave his new ’bride’ behind." Ren swatted his hand away and pushed off him.

"I didn’t know you liked to gossip and peer into other people’s privacy, Cilian," Ren shot back, feeling a sense of nausea rise up in the pit of his belly the closer his Alpha came.

"Why, I don’t usually involve myself with such things. But I’ve been keeping my eyes open in order to entertain my sweet ’wifey’. Don’t you find it entertaining?" he peered closer.

Ren turned his head away, feeling the nausea sharpening more than ever. He looked at the jungle, then at Cilian’s smiling face.

If he were uneducated, he would’ve jumped right to the conclusion that it was because he was pregnant, but he was a doctor by degree and knew that one’s body can react like this for many different variables.

Besides, it had only been three days. There was no way he was pregnant already. Definitely not. If anything, he suspected a heat coming... Either way, it was bad.

If he still had a little chance of not being pregnant after all they had done, getting a heat at this time would dash those chances completely.

"Ren, are you okay?" Cilian asked, noticing the avoidance, but Ren shook his head.

"I’m fine, just... a little dizzy," he said. "I don’t think the island air is great for me."

"Ah, if you had said that on the first day, I might’ve believed you, Ren," Cilian murmured, his chin coming down to rest heavily on the crown of Ren’s head. He looked down at the pale slope of Ren’s neck, his fox-like eyes narrowing with a sharp, intuitive focus. "But it’s the third day, Ren. You’ve been doing fine with the island air this whole time."