Silas' eyes softened when they met hers. "Emma, whose cub is it?" His voice was careful, gentle enough to crack if she breathed wrong. Emma exhaled through her nose, rubbing her temple. "It's too early to tell. The doctor doesn't have an answer yet. Kieran brought something from the Aquadome—it's supposed to show who the father is." She explained the whole situation in a few quick lines. "Marcus, Corvin, and Edric have all tried. The strands didn't react. So I'm still in the dark." Silas stood there, stunned, like his brain had just hit pause. Emma frowned. "Silas, say something. You look like you've seen a ghost." His voice wavered. "Emma… have you felt off lately? Anything strange happening to your body?" She thought for a moment. "Nothing major. I've just been eating like crazy and falling asleep all the time." Halfway through her sentence, the itch returned to her scalp. She scratched at the spot and winced. "Right here. It's been bothering me for days." With Kieran present, she kept quiet about her beast core pulling in energy faster than before. Silas' gaze dropped to the place she pointed. His lips pressed into a hard line. "Emma," he murmured, "I think I know who the father is." Her eyes widened. "You do? Then who?" His reply barely made it past his throat. "Me." "What?" The word exploded from her, followed by stunned silence from Marcus and Kieran. "Silas, that's impossible. We never bonded." Emma stared at Silas as she thought, A cub without a bond? That's nuts—Cotton Candy makes more sense than that. Silas' guilt seeped through every word. "Do you remember the day I left? The day I bloomed?" Emma nodded slowly. "Yeah. I plucked your blossoms myself." Her cheeks warmed at the memory. Good thing she'd pale her skin earlier; the blush hid well."You're saying this happened because of your blooming?" she asked. Silas nodded. "It's almost unheard of. Since the Crescent Vine existed, it's only happened twice. I didn't think it could happen again… least of all with you." "I'm sorry, Emma." Regret settled heavily on him. If I'd known, I wouldn't have let it go that far. Or that many times. Emma blinked, convinced this whole thing had reached a new level of ridiculous. Her voice caught halfway up her throat. "Silas, then what am I supposed to give birth to? A branch? A fruit? A stick figure?" Her brain had officially left the galaxy. Silas' chest tightened at the sight of Emma's dazed expression. He drew a steady breath and spoke gently, "Emma, relax. You're not giving birth to anything." He explained, "Fruit appears where the itching starts. In about two weeks, a small vine will sprout. When it grows two leaves, it'll form a bud. After it blooms, it'll wither within a week and fall away. Since we never bonded for real, no fruit will form."A false pregnancy, no more than a biological echo. His tone softened. "You'll be fine. If the itching drives you crazy, crush a few of my petals into juice and dab it on. Once the vine shows, the irritation fades. When it drops off, everything resets." He tried for humor. "Think of it as wearing a flower clip. Once it wilts, it's done." A flower clip. Seriously? A faint twitch tugged at Emma's lips. "If a fruit really grew… what would it look like?" Silas was sure there'd be no fruit; he humored her. "Deep blue. About the size of a grape. When it's ripe, it falls off the vine, then the father raises it. Crescent Vines aren't like therians; they don't take human form until they're three. Until then, they hang as fruit, feeding off the father's vine." That was exactly why Silas dreaded the idea of parenthood. For three long years, that little fruit would cling to him—day and night—leeching his energy, tying him down. No intimacy and freedom for three long years.It wasn't a matter of days or months. It was three full years. Three years that would feel like forever.