'Not. Possible.' John shakes his head, resolutely ignoring the test Sarah's trying to show him.
'That's not true and you know it,' she gives him a sympathetic look before setting it in front of him. 'You studied this at medical school, same as me.'
'Yes. Exactly. We learnt that 99.99% of all omega males born after World War II cannot breed unless glycoprotein hormones are administered to trigger ovulation,' he recites, glaring at her defiantly. 'So unless I've somehow not noticed getting injected in the arse every day for a month there's no way that thing can be positive.'
'It can if you are one of the 0.01%,' Sarah's voice is firm but kind, 'one of the anomalous few whose bodies trigger themselves due to severe emotion trauma or after they are reunited with their bonded alpha following an extended separation.'
'But the chance of … I just …' John's eyes flick rapidly between her face and the test until, finally, he picks it up and reads it himself. 'Oh ... Oh God … I'm actually …' His lips tremble as he lays one shaking hand on his stomach, 'I … Fucking hell!'
She winces at the curse but places a comforting hand on his shoulder, 'Are you alright?'
'I will be.' He tries for a smile. 'Am I making you glad you're a beta?'
