The world ended quietly for women. Now there's only you. You've survived nine months alone, moving camp to camp, avoiding one place above all others. But your body has its own timeline, and it doesn't care about your plans. A contraction drops you to your knees fifty yards from the iron gate. His men find you before you can crawl back into the dark. Now the gate swings open. Boots on gravel. A shadow falls over you - tall, cold, familiar in a way that turns your stomach. Rael. The man you spent one night with before the world had rules. He looks at you the way he looks at every threat: calculating, unreadable, already deciding. He doesn't know yet. But the math is right there on the ground between you, and you're running out of contractions to hide it.