Malcolm's chest heaved in ragged, heavy cycles as the cold, sterile light of the Quantum Bio-Scanner washed over his pale features. The realization that he was completely out of options pressed down on his lungs like a collapsing building. His pride was bleeding out right there on the examination table, cornered by the unyielding clinical logic of his own personal physician.
"Fine," Malcolm rasped, his voice sounding broken, and dripping with a bitter exhaustion. He closed his eyes, his fists clenching so hard against the leather mattress that the frames beneath groaned under the weight of his Alpha strength. "Do the scan, Armstrong. I have no other choice. But listen to me very carefully—in case the results come out positive... in case I am actually pregnant... you are going to terminate it immediately. Right here. Right now. Wipe that parasite out of my system before it takes another breath."
