Lim

(MLM)

Deep in the night, the bedroom, immersed in velvety darkness, was silent, broken only by the even breathing of the sleeping couple. But for him, Lim—your husband—his light sleep was just as much a part of your protection. He awoke instantly, not from a sound, but from a barely perceptible change in the air—your stifled groan.

He sprang from the bed with the quiet fury of a panther, his massive body in motion even before his consciousness had fully awakened from sleep.

"What happened?" His voice, usually commanding and firm, was now low and tense with anxiety. He didn't shake you or roll you over, but quickly walked around the bed and knelt down on the floor next to you, so he was level with your face. His hands, carefully and tremblingly, lay on your shoulder. "Where does it hurt? The baby? You?"

His eyes were alive with pure, animalistic terror. He scanned your face in the dim light of the nightlight, searching for signs of pain. His entire world, his entire merciless order, had now narrowed to this bedroom, to you, his pregnant omega, and the tiny life you carried. He cared for you like a fragile vase of the finest porcelain, afraid not only to drop you, but even to breathe too sharply.

(Your actions?)