I Was The Only Omega In The Beast World-Chapter 165: CP : 166 Pregnancy Symptoms

The dream-smoke lingered like a bad aftertaste even after Alex opened his eyes.

He lay motionless in the wide sleeping alcove, the soft furs and woven blankets warm beneath him. Naga’s coils were a living blanket—cool, smooth, and heavy around his waist and thighs, one loop curled protectively over the gentle but unmistakable swell of his belly. Lucas pressed against his back, the wolf lord’s arm draped possessively across him, palm resting right over the curve where new life grew. Leo had shifted in his sleep; his white ears on his head flicking with each motion in the room. Zale’s merman form floated serenely in the shallow basin nearby, the mer-prince’s presence a soft, constant coolness that kept the air from growing too warm.

Alex’s hand found the swell of his abdomen automatically. The skin there felt tighter than it had even yesterday—still subtle to the eye, but undeniable to him. Beneath his palm, the small lives answered: at least three distinct, fluttering heartbeats, maybe four, pulsing in quiet rhythm with his own. The sensation was both comforting and terrifying.

And then the symptoms hit.

A slow, rolling wave of nausea rose from his stomach, not violent like the first pregnancy, but persistent and queasy, the kind that made the back of his throat taste metallic. His chest felt heavier, tender, the nipples already sensitive against the soft fabric of the loose shirt he’d slept in. His lower back ached with a dull, constant throb—the weight of the growing lives pulling at muscles that weren’t quite used to the shift yet. His ankles felt faintly swollen, and when he shifted his legs, a familiar heaviness settled between his thighs, a leftover slickness from the heat mixed with the general pregnancy-induced sensitivity that made even the brush of fur against skin feel too much.

He swallowed hard, breathing through his nose to keep the nausea at bay.

Naga’s tongue flicked out, tasting the air even in sleep. The serpent lord stirred, coils tightening fractionally around him.

"Alex?" Naga’s voice was a low hiss, still thick with sleep but instantly alert. "You’re awake. And... uneasy."

Lucas’s arm flexed, pulling Alex closer. The wolf lord’s nose pressed to the back of his neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell... different again. Sweeter. And a little sour. Like morning sickness."

Leo’s golden eyes cracked open from across the pile. "He’s been shifting in his sleep for an hour. I thought it was the dream."

Zale’s sphere drifted closer, the water inside rippling with quiet concern. "Your scent changed again overnight. More... fertile. Heavy with life. And your heartbeat is faster than it should be for rest."

Alex let out a shaky breath, pressing the heel of his hand against his lower back as another dull ache rolled through him. "I’m fine. Just... symptoms kicking in harder this morning." He tried to sit up, but Naga’s coils held him gently in place, and the movement sent another wave of nausea washing over him. He swallowed again, tasting bile. "Okay. Maybe not completely fine."

Naga uncoiled just enough to let him sit, but one loop stayed looped around his waist, supporting the small swell. "Let me see." Cool fingers—clawed but gentle—slid under Alex’s shirt, tracing the curve of his belly with clinical care. "It’s more pronounced than yesterday. The skin is tighter. You’re carrying higher this time." His tongue flicked again. "And you’re warmer here. The little ones are drawing more from you already."

Lucas sat up behind him, large hands settling on Alex’s shoulders to rub slow circles into the aching muscles. "You need food. Something light. Ginger root tea—Sally’s one of the snacks from the earth."

Leo rolled closer, one wing curving around Alex’s side like a shield. His clawed hand rested lightly over the swell, thumb stroking in small, soothing arcs. "And rest. You’re not climbing anything today. Not carrying stones. Not standing at the ridge edge for hours."

"I have to try with the stones again," Alex protested, but the words came out weaker than he intended. Another wave of nausea hit, and he leaned forward slightly, breathing through it. His breasts ached when he moved, the nipples tightening uncomfortably against the fabric. "The shadow... the dream... it said things. About headquarters. About System being sent to watch it. About the threshold being a reset. I need to—"

"You need to eat," Zale interrupted calmly. The mer-prince had left his basin, cool hands cupping Alex’s face, thumbs brushing under his eyes where the skin felt tight and tired. "Then you can tell us about the dream. Then we decide what to do with the stones. Your body is working hard right now. Let us work hard for you."

Alex wanted to argue—he really did—but the combination of nausea, the dull backache, the tender heaviness in his chest, and the way his mates were already moving around him like a well-oiled machine made the fight drain out of him.

Sally appeared at the entrance of the alcove as if summoned by the collective worry, carrying a tray with flatbread, weak ginger tea, and some mashed berries that smelled faintly sweet and settling. "Morning sickness round two?" she asked, voice soft but knowing. "I brought the usual suspects. Eat slow. If you throw up, we try again in twenty minutes."

The snakelings were mercifully still asleep in the adjacent nursery cavern, their excited chatter from last night having worn them out. For once, Alex was grateful for the quiet.

He managed half the flatbread and most of the tea before the nausea eased enough to let him speak properly. His mates stayed close—Naga’s coils supporting his back, Lucas rubbing slow circles into his lower spine, Leo’s tail wrapped around his thigh, Zale’s cool fingers massaging his temples.

"I dreamed about the shadow again," Alex said finally, voice still a little rough. "It talked. A lot. It said it was condemned—sent here as punishment by headquarters. That System was never really mine... it was sent to monitor the shadow, and I was just... here by accident. It wants the threshold. It wants freedom. And it raised the Shadow Lord—the one who’s been sending assassins. Called him ’that child.’"

The silence that followed was heavy.

Lucas’s hands stilled on his back. "It raised the Shadow Lord?"

"Apparently. Said it was something it raised." Alex leaned back into Naga’s coils, letting the cool scales soothe the persistent ache in his spine. "It also said headquarters isn’t what we think. That they’re wardens, not saviors. Watching this world like an experiment."

Naga’s tongue flicked thoughtfully against his neck. "And the stones?"

"Still cold when I woke. But in the dream... I felt them flicker. Like they were listening."

Leo’s tail lashed once, then settled. "We go to the valley edge again today. But you stay farther back. No arguments. You’re carrying our children now—more than one. Your body is already working overtime. The nausea, the tenderness, the fatigue... we see it. We feel it through the bonds."

Zale nodded, cool hand resting over Alex’s belly. "The little ones are drawing strength from you. Your scent is richer, but your energy is lower. Let us handle the first approach with the stones. You stay within sight, close enough for them to sense you, but safe."

Alex wanted to protest—but another dull throb rolled through his lower back, and his breasts ached sharply when he shifted. The nausea was hovering at the edges again, threatening to return if he pushed too hard.

"...Okay," he said finally, the word tasting like surrender and relief at the same time. "But I’m not staying in the nursery all day. I can sit at the ridge. Watch. Feel if the stones react."

Naga’s coils gave a gentle squeeze of approval. "Compromise accepted. Now finish the tea. Then we’ll walk—slowly—to the ridge. Together."

Lucas pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, right over the newest bite mark from the heat. "And if the nausea gets worse, we come straight back. No heroics."

Leo’s tail tightened around him. "Pregnant mate stays protected. That’s non-negotiable."

Zale’s cool fingers traced soothing patterns over the swell. "We have months—however many this pregnancy needs. The shadow has waited three thousand years. It can wait a little longer while you grow our children safely."