Chapter 84

Chapter 84
The thought made something shift in her chest, something unfamiliar, something she wasn’t sure she was ready to name. Seamus wasn’t the settling-down type. He wasn’t built for stability, for quiet. He had been raised by the Syndicate, shaped into something ruthless, something dangerous. She had never once let herself believe that he would want anything else.
And yet, he had chosen her. Over and over, even when it had been easier to walk away.
Would this change that?
Her fingers tightened around the test. She had never been afraid of anything in her life—not death, not pain, not the endless chase of violence that had ruled her world. But this? This was something she couldn’t fight her way out of.
A future she hadn’t planned for.
A future she hadn’t thought she’d live long enough to see.
The door creaked open behind her.
Seamus walked in, a bag in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. He tossed the bag onto the table, arching a brow at her as he took a sip. "You good?"
Mika forced a smirk, stretching out on the bed like she didn’t have a storm raging inside her. "Yeah. Just enjoying the quiet."
He grunted, setting his coffee down before rolling his shoulders. "Enjoy it while it lasts."
She nodded, glancing briefly at the nightstand where the test sat, just out of sight. Just for now.
Because sooner or later, she was going to have to tell him.
And she wasn’t sure what would happen when she did.
The shower was running, steam curling under the bathroom door, filling the small hotel room with the scent of soap and hot water. Mika had disappeared minutes ago, leaving Seamus alone in the quiet.
He moved through the space absently, peeling off his jacket, tossing it onto the chair. His body ached, his ribs throbbed, but his mind refused to shut down. He should have been thinking about their next move, their next destination, but instead, his eyes drifted around the room, landing on the nightstand.
Something sat on top of it. Small. Unassuming.
His brows furrowed as he reached for it.
The second his fingers closed around the pregnancy test, everything in him stilled.
Seamus wasn’t the type to be caught off guard. He had trained himself to anticipate, to predict, to control every possible outcome. But this? This was something he hadn’t seen coming.
The test was old—used, but still unmistakable. The little pink lines stared back at him, clear as day.
Positive.
His breath hitched, his grip tightening involuntarily as a wave of something sharp and unfamiliar slammed into him. His mind raced, faster than it ever had in a fight, faster than it ever had when planning an escape.
Mika was pregnant.
His child. His blood. A life he hadn’t accounted for.
His pulse pounded against his skull. He wasn’t ready for this. Not even close. He had spent his entire life running, fighting, surviving. He wasn’t built for this. He didn’t know how to be a father. Hell, he didn’t even know what a father was supposed to be. The only man who had ever come close had been a liar, a killer, someone who had raised him to be nothing more than a weapon.
A father.
The word rattled in his head, foreign and wrong. He had never thought about children, never considered the possibility. Why would he? His life wasn’t meant for softness. It wasn’t meant for stability or love or fucking family.
And Mika.
She had known. Since the bunker. Since before the fire, before the blood, before they had erased themselves from existence. She had known this entire time and hadn’t said a word.
Had she even planned to?
His stomach twisted. Had she been waiting for the right moment? Or had she been waiting to see if they survived long enough for it to matter?
He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his face. His fingers clenched around the test again, his knuckles white.
Everything was different now. He couldn’t think past that, past the sheer weight of what this meant.
He didn’t even know if he wanted this.
That realization sent a new kind of fear through him, one he wasn’t equipped to handle. He had walked through fire, had fought men twice his size, had seen death more times than he could count, but this? This terrified him in a way he didn’t know how to process.
Because this wasn’t a fight he could win. This wasn’t an enemy he could take down.
This was something permanent. Something real.
And he had no idea if he was capable of being the kind of man who could handle it.
The steam was thick, curling in soft waves around the bathroom, clinging to the mirror, the tiles, the very air itself. The sound of running water filled the space, drowning out the distant hum of the city beyond the walls of their temporary sanctuary.
Mika let the hot water roll down her back, easing the tension in her muscles, letting the heat chase away the ghosts of the past few days. She ran her hands through her hair, letting herself just exist, just breathe—
Then the door slammed open.
Before she could react, the shower curtain was yanked aside, and suddenly Seamus was there—fully clothed, his chest rising and falling like he had just run a mile, his eyes wild and locked onto her.
Mika barely had time to suck in a breath before he stepped under the spray, boots hitting the slick tile, the water instantly soaking through his clothes.
“What the hell—”
He lifted his hand.
Held up the test.
Mika stilled.