Kai had forty-seven dollars.

Rent was three hundred and twelve, due Saturday. Today was Wednesday. This shift would pay sixty-five after taxes, assuming Marco didn't dock him again for the plates he'd broken last week. That put him at one hundred and twelve total. He needed two hundred more.

The numbers ran on loop in his head while his hands moved on autopilot, coffee pot to mug, mug to table, smile for the customer who didn't look up. Two hundred. He had four shifts left before Saturday. If he picked up the hours nobody wanted, the graveyard doubles, he could pull one-forty, maybe one-fifty. Still short.

The baby kicked.

Kai's hand went to his stomach before he caught himself. Wrong. Obvious. He grabbed a rag instead, wiped down a table that was already clean.

Six months along and the uniform shirt still hid it if he slouched right, if he kept the apron tied high, if he didn't turn sideways under the lights. The bagginess helped. Everything about Kai helped, actually. He'd always been the kind of thin that made people look away, the kind of unremarkable that meant customers forgot his face between visits. Invisible worked in his favor now.

"Kai."

He turned. Marco leaned out from the kitchen window, flour on his hands, expression unreadable. Marco saw everything. Kai had worked at Lucky's 24-Hour for eleven months and Marco had seen him get thinner, seen the holes in his shoes, seen him pocket crackers when he thought no one was looking.

Marco saw, and he didn't say anything, which was worse than if he did.

"Yeah?"

"Table seven wants his burger rare. Actually rare, not your version."

"Got it."

Kai put the order in. Checked his phone. 2:47 AM. The diner had five customers, all of them the kind who came to places like this at three in the morning because they had nowhere else to be. Kai understood that. He was the same, except he got paid to be here.

His back ached. His feet ached. The baby had been kicking on and off for the past hour, like it knew this was a bad time and decided to complain about it. Kai leaned against the server station and breathed through his nose. Four more hours. He could do four more hours.

The door chimed.

Businessman type, tailored coat, shoes that cost more than Kai's rent. He took the corner booth, the one under the broken speaker that never played the right song. Kai grabbed a menu and water glass.

"Evening," Kai said, because his customer service voice still worked even when the rest of him didn't. "What can I get you?"

The man didn't look at the menu. "Coffee. Black. And the turkey club, no tomato."

"Sure."

Kai brought the coffee first. The man was doing something on his phone, frowning at the screen like it had personally offended him. Kai knew that look. That was the look of someone whose problems cost more than Kai made in a year but somehow still kept him awake at 3 AM.

The baby kicked again. Harder this time.

Kai's hand pressed flat to his stomach without permission. The kick pushed back against his palm, insistent, real. He pulled his hand away fast, but the businessman had already looked up.

Their eyes met.

Kai waited for the question, the concern, the are you okay that would lead to explanations he couldn't afford to give. But the man just looked at him for a long second, something unreadable crossing his face, then looked back down at his phone.

"Thanks for the coffee," the man said.

Kai left.

The turkey club took twelve minutes. Kai brought it out, refilled the coffee without being asked. The man ate slowly, the kind of slow that meant he wasn't actually hungry, just needed to be doing something with his hands. Kai understood that too.

When the check came, the man pulled out his wallet. Kai saw the edge of the bills inside, crisp and uncreased, the kind of money that had never been folded in someone's pocket for three days while they decided which bill to pay first.

The man left two twenties and three fifties on the table.

Kai stared at the bills.

The turkey club cost eighteen dollars. The man had left a hundred and ninety. That was. That was more than Kai made in a week. That was the difference between rent and eviction. That was the difference between keeping his phone on and losing the only number the clinic had to reach him.

He picked up the money with shaking hands.

The businessman was already gone. The door had chimed shut while Kai was still counting. He stood there holding a hundred and ninety dollars and his vision blurred at the edges.

"You good?"

Marco, back at the window. He was looking at Kai the way he'd been looking at Kai for months now, that careful expression that meant he knew exactly how not-good Kai was.

"Yeah," Kai said. His voice came out steady. That was something. "I'm good."

He walked to the bathroom on legs that felt disconnected from his body, locked the door, sat on the closed toilet lid. The bathroom was the kind of disgusting that came from being cleaned poorly for a decade, tile grout gone grey, mirror cracked in one corner. Kai had cried in here before. The fluorescent light made everyone look sick, which helped. No one could tell the difference.

He pressed both hands to his stomach.

The baby kicked, gentler now. Like it knew.

"I'm trying," Kai whispered.

His voice bounced off the tile, small and desperate. The baby kicked again. Kai closed his eyes and counted the money one more time in his head. Forty-seven plus sixty-five plus one-ninety. Three hundred and two. Ten dollars short of rent, but he could find ten dollars. He could skip lunch for a week. He could return the prenatal vitamins he'd bought yesterday and just take the free samples from the clinic.

He could make it work.

He always made it work.

The thing was, Kai had been making it work for six months now. Six months of mental math and skipped meals and stealing crackers from the kitchen when Marco wasn't looking, even though Marco definitely knew, even though the shame of it sat in Kai's throat every time he did it.

Six months since the night that had split his life into before and after. Six months since he'd woken up alone in a room that wasn't his, cash on the table, the feeling of hands on his skin that he couldn't quite remember and couldn't quite forget.

Six months pregnant with a stranger's baby, and the only thing Kai knew for sure was that he was in this alone.

The baby kicked.

"I know," Kai said quietly. "I'm trying."

He stood up, washed his face in the sink, avoided looking at himself in the cracked mirror. His reflection never helped. When he came back out, Marco had plated him two eggs and toast, sitting on the server station like they'd been ordered by a customer who'd left.

Kai looked at Marco. Marco looked back, expression flat.

"Eat," Marco said.

Kai ate.

The eggs were runny the way he liked them, the toast was burnt the way it always was when Marco made it too fast. It tasted like survival. Kai finished every bite, put the plate in the dish bin, went back to work.

Four more hours.

He could do four more hours.

Kai didn't want to go to the party.

He'd told Mia this three times over the phone, twice over text, and once in person when she'd shown up at his apartment with a garment bag and that look on her face that meant she'd already decided for him.

"You need to have fun," Mia said, hanging the garment bag on his closet door. "When was the last time you did something that wasn't work or your mom's medical appointments?"

Kai looked at her. Mia looked back, unflinching, which was the problem with having a friend who'd known you since high school. She remembered when Kai had been a person who did things besides survive.

"I have work tomorrow," Kai said.

"You have work every day. Come on. It's my birthday. Daniel's taking me somewhere nice and you're my plus-one's plus-one."

"That's not a thing."

"It is tonight." Mia unzipped the garment bag. Inside was a button-down shirt, dark grey, probably expensive. Definitely expensive. "Daniel's friend had an extra ticket and I said you'd come."

"Mia."

"Kai." She pulled the shirt out, held it up to his chest. "It'll fit. Wear your black jeans, the ones without the hole. We're going to Club Imperium."

Kai had heard of Club Imperium. Everyone had heard of Club Imperium. It was the kind of place where people who had money went to be around other people who had money, where the cover charge cost more than Kai's grocery budget, where the bouncers looked at you like they could see your bank account and it wasn't good enough.

"I can't afford that," Kai said.

"You're not paying. You're my guest. And before you say you can't accept charity," Mia held up a hand, "it's my birthday. You have to be nice to me."

Kai looked at the shirt. Looked at Mia. She had that expression on, the stubborn one, the one that meant this argument was already over and Kai just hadn't realized it yet.

"One drink," Kai said.

"Three drinks."

"Two drinks and I leave by midnight."

"Deal." Mia grinned, victorious. "Get dressed. Car's picking us up at nine."

Club Imperium was exactly what Kai expected and worse.

The building looked like someone had taken a glass tower and decided it needed to prove something, all sharp edges and lights that cost more to run than Kai made in a month. The line to get in wrapped around the block. People in clothes that fit right, that looked like they'd been bought specifically for tonight instead of pulled from the back of a closet and hoped for the best.

Kai stood next to Mia and Daniel and Daniel's friend Marcus, wearing borrowed clothes, and tried to look like he belonged.

He didn't belong.

The bouncer checked their names, waved them through without looking at Kai directly. Invisible again. That helped.

Inside was loud and dark and full of people who moved like they'd never worried about anything in their lives. The bass was physical, rattling in Kai's chest. Lights cut through artificial smoke. Someone laughed too loud near the bar, the kind of laugh that came from being drunk on expensive alcohol instead of cheap beer.

"This way," Daniel said, steering them toward a roped-off section. VIP. Of course it was VIP.

They got a table. More accurately, Daniel got a table and the rest of them sat at it. Kai ended up on the end of the curved booth, half-hidden behind Marcus, which was fine. Preferred, actually.

A server came by. Daniel ordered a bottle of something Kai didn't recognize. When it arrived, the server poured it into glasses that looked like they'd shatter if you held them wrong.

Mia pressed a glass into Kai's hand. "To being twenty-five," she said, grinning.

"You're twenty-four," Kai said.

"I'm celebrating early. Drink."

Kai drank. The alcohol tasted like it cost three hundred dollars, which probably meant it did. It burned going down in a way that felt intentional, designed, like even the burn was supposed to be an experience.

He nursed the glass after that. Sipped slowly. Made it last. The plan was simple: stay for two hours, be polite, leave before midnight. He could do two hours.

Mia was happy. That mattered. She was leaning into Daniel, laughing at something he'd said, her hand in his. They looked good together. Natural. Like they fit.

Kai tried to remember the last time he'd felt like he fit anywhere.

The thought slid away before he could catch it.

Marcus appeared at his elbow. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," Kai said.

"You look like you want to be literally anywhere else."

Kai almost smiled. "Is it that obvious?"

"Little bit." Marcus waved the server over, said something Kai didn't catch over the music. The server nodded, left, came back with two cocktails, bright blue, garnished with something crystalline. "Here. This one's better than that fancy shit Daniel ordered. Trust me."

Kai looked at the drink. It looked like something that glowed in the dark. But Marcus was being friendly, and Kai was a guest, and saying no felt rude in a way he couldn't afford.

"Thanks," Kai said.

He drank it. It tasted better than it looked, sweet and cold, the alcohol hidden under layers of fruit and something sharp he couldn't identify. It went down easy. Too easy. Kai's stomach was empty. He should have eaten before coming.

He drank half before setting it down.

The music was loud. The lights were bright. Kai checked his phone. 10:52. Just over an hour left. He could make it.

His skin felt warm.

Kai frowned. Touched his neck. The warmth was spreading, settling low in his stomach, familiar in a way that made his chest tight.

No. Not possible.

He was on suppressants. Had been for three years. Took his pill every morning with his coffee, forty dollars a month he couldn't afford to skip. His heats were regular. Manageable. Three months apart, and his next one wasn't due for five more weeks.

The warmth turned into heat.

Kai's hands started shaking. He set his glass down carefully, willing his fingers to cooperate. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Not here. Not surrounded by strangers and alphas and people who would notice, who would smell him, who would—

His scent was changing.

He could feel it the way he always could, that shift from neutral to sweet, the pheromone spike that announced to every alpha in range that he was going into heat. Available. Vulnerable.

Panic cut through the fog in his head.

"Bathroom," Kai said. He stood up. Too fast. The room tilted, corrected itself. Mia looked up at him, concern flickering across her face.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just need a minute."

He walked away before she could ask anything else. His legs felt disconnected from his body, moving on autopilot while his brain tried to catch up. Heat suppressants didn't just fail. They didn't. Unless he'd missed a dose, but he hadn't, he never missed doses because missing doses meant this exact situation.

Unless.

The drink.

Kai's stomach dropped. The blue cocktail. Marcus had given it to him. Marcus who he didn't know, who was Daniel's friend, who had been friendly in that easy alpha way that Kai usually knew better than to trust.

Someone had drugged him.

The main floor was too bright, too loud, too full of people. Kai pushed through the crowd, trying to look normal, trying not to stumble. The heat was building faster than it should, faster than any heat he'd ever had. His vision blurred at the edges.

He needed to get out. Call a cab. Lock himself somewhere safe until this passed.

A hallway appeared ahead. Dark. Quiet. Away from the chaos of the dance floor.

Kai stumbled into it.

The music faded to something muted, bearable. The hallway was cooler, dim lighting, doors on either side. Bathroom signs somewhere ahead. He could make it. Just a little further.

His legs were shaking. He pressed one hand against the wall, steadied himself, kept moving.

A security guard materialized in front of him. "This area's restricted."

"I need," Kai's voice came out wrong, breathy, "bathroom."

The guard looked at him. Really looked. His expression shifted, something between concern and wariness. He could smell it. Of course he could smell it.

"Sir, you need to go back to the main floor."

"Please." Kai hated how the word sounded. Desperate. Small. "I just need—"

The heat spiked. Hard. Kai's knees buckled.

The guard caught his arm, but Kai twisted away, survival instinct overriding logic. He needed to be away from alphas, away from everyone. He lurched forward, slipped past the guard while the man was still deciding whether to chase him or call for backup.

Kai half-ran down the corridor. Doors flashed past. Private rooms. VIP lounges. Somewhere behind him, the guard was probably calling security, but Kai didn't care. He just needed somewhere quiet. Somewhere he could lock the door and wait this out.

His hand found a door handle.

The sign said PRIVATE in small silver letters.

Kai opened it anyway.

The room inside was dimmer, cooler, leather furniture and low amber lighting. And in the center of it, back turned, was a man in a dark suit.

The man turned around.