Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
ELLIE
“Well, this is a whole new walk of shame experience,” I say sarcastically. Five seconds later, my antlers catch on a branch overhead, leading me to stumble over a tree root. Van’s huge clawed hand darts out, wrapping around my upper arm to steady me.
“I’m carrying you the rest of the way,” he growls.
“No, I’m fine,” I insist, magicking my antlers away.
“You won’t be fine if you roll a fucking ankle.”
There’s not much I can do against an eight-foot-six werewolf.
If he wants to carry me — which he clearly does — he will, so I don’t bother protesting when Van picks me up bridal-style, his gait suddenly lengthening.
The bitter and upset part of me can’t help but think that he’s trying to prove a point, that I was walking too slow for him, which is ridiculous — in all the years that I’ve known him, since we were children, he’s never once intentionally made me feel inadequate about anything.
We’re in shock. I feel like an idiot, because I’ve been relying on my IUD for the past two and a half years while regularly getting dicked down by this gigantic version of Van, and not once did I consider the fact that all this pussy-shifting or whatever the fuck it is that I do with my magic would compromise my Mirena, and yet it’s fucking obvious, isn’t it?
I don’t like being wrong. Neither does Van.
I’m an only child, he’s an eldest, plus an alpha.
That’s a recipe for two high-achieving perfectionists.
We’re no fools either, but this feels like the ultimate ‘egg on their face’ scenario.
I know what we’re both thinking, even if we have our bond shut down right now.
The anxiety that was pinging between us was too overwhelming.
The IUD in question is now in my dress pocket, and I play with the outline of it through the linen fabric. We’re usually still fucking until five in the morning on the night of a full moon, but I doubt it’s even eleven yet. Neither of us are in the mood for any more fun.
“I feel so stupid,” I say as Van crosses the grassy fields, leaping over the stile between the paddocks with ease. The bonfire ahead has burned down to a glowing pile of embers. “And so embarrassed.”
“Same. But you shouldn’t,” he adds after a moment. “How could we have known, when it’s worked for over two years now?”
“It’s my fault. I’m the one moving things around in my body without even knowing what the fuck I’m doing with my magic.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No. Don’t argue with me. It’s no one’s fault, or we’re both at fault. You choose. Are you angry at me?”
I shake my head.
“Then don’t be mad at yourself. I’m not angry. Surprised? Yeah. Just as surprised as anyone who’s realised they’ve broken a condom, I imagine.”
“Not something you know from experience?” I ask, referencing the years in between for us, as I always think of the nine years when we weren’t together.
“No, thankfully.”
“Same.” I take a deep breath, feeling the chill on the breeze. If it weren’t for Van’s body heat, I’d be freezing right now. “When did I last ovulate?”
It’s not the usual question one asks their male partner, but Van’s nose never lies. He’s always more in tune with my body than I am.
“Almost two months ago. It was late January. We might be fine.”
“It’s normally every two months for me.”
“I know.”
“Didn’t you once tell me that wolf sperm lives for up to eight days?”
Van keeps his eyes trained ahead. “When it’s from a transformed werewolf, it’s usually ten.”
I continue to stare up at him. “They studied that?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t they?” His tone is all the indicator I need to know that my question is slightly problematic.
“I just hadn’t imagined a werewolf guy taking time out of his full moon hours to go and jizz in a cup at some fertility clinic for science, that’s all. I mean, it’d be a pretty big sample size.”
I’ve always loved the sound of Van’s laugh, but there’s something particularly special about it in this form. Pressed to his chest as I am, the noise reverberates around me. “That’s not what happened.” There’s something in his voice that catches my attention, and I cock my head at him.
“Oh?”
“My ancestor was very into science.”
“Who? And in what way?”
“The second High Witch. It was in the time of Galileo — he’s often attributed with the invention of the compound microscope, and I know this because some people in the First like to claim that she invented it, but she didn’t.
She owned one of his telescopes, though, and an early microscope from the time.
So the first thing she did with it was fuck a bunch of men from different species and compare the samples she personally collected.
I don’t think she collected them in cups either. ”
“No.”
“Yeah. She wrote it all out in her grimoire, and it’s become one of those jokes in the Maheras line — you know every family has some weird lore…”
“Have you seen it?”
He nods.
“You’ve read great-great-great-great-great-great-great-granny’s sex diary?” I say, grinning as I count out the greats on my fingers. Van’s great-grandmother is the current High Witch — essentially the queen of all the werewolves in the First.
“Hey, it was legitimate scientific exploration conducted by one of the most powerful witches that ever lived, alright?” he jokes.
“‘Records of Male Output Specimens as Seen Under Miniature Spyglasses’ is the translated title. You know I don’t speak the old language, and I wasn’t about to ask any of my uncles anything else about what it says.
She drew a lot of diagrams to go with her report, though.
.. So that’s how we know the average lifespan of wolf sperm. ”
I nod. “Okay. Go granny. But one sample is hardly—
“—She had about two hundred were samples in there alone. A handful of shifters…”
“Wow. Shifters as well, and after her mother led the war against them?” I still don’t know much about wolf history, but I do know what makes Van and his siblings so unique — and his parents’ relationship so rare — is the fact that this War of Wolves took place some five hundred odd years ago, displacing many shifters in the First and causing shifter packs to establish themselves here in the Second Realm instead, despite the fact that it meant they had to live as humans under the universal glamour all those years ago.
“Yeah, that surprised me too.” Van’s mouth twitches into the canine version of a grin as he shrugs one hulking shoulder, careful not to jostle me. “She was clearly very dedicated to her studies.”
“Very. Good on her. Unethical by today’s academic standards, but I guess she could get away with it at the time. You’re not just making this up to cheer me up, are you? Because I’ll be even more upset if it turns out I’m just gulli—”
“I’m not making this up. If we ever go to the First, I’ll take you to view it for yourself. Or better yet, just ask Lacey. She’s got the photos on her phone.”
We pass by the fire pit, Van setting me down on the pavers just outside the house.
“Are you okay?” he asks, dropping to his knees so that we’re the same height, his eyes full of worry.
I nod, even as my vision grows blurry. “I’m just… it’s a shock.”
“I know. There’s Plan B. There’s pharmacies here. If you want to use it you can, and if you don’t… that’s okay too.”
That takes me aback. Not the idea of him suggesting Plan B — it was already on my mind — but the idea that I might not want to use it. That maybe he does actually want kids a little sooner than we’d planned. “What do you want me to do?”
“It’s not about me.”
“Van.”
“It’s not. It’s your body.”
“Yeah, but we’re married. We’re mated. For life,” I add, pointing to the scar on my shoulder for emphasis. “It’s a joint decision of when we decide to have children.”
“I’m not going to dictate what you do here, Ellie. You were on birth control—”
“—You’re not dictating, I’m asking for your opinion. As your partner.”
“My opinion doesn’t—”
“What do you want?!” I demand, aware that I’m losing the plot here.
Van’s ears flatten back against his skull, the fur around his ruff standing on end for a moment before easing.
“I need to know if you want children now. This year,” I say, my voice breaking.
“Don’t put the whole thing on me. That’s not fair, because that’s not…
I don’t make this kind of decision without you, okay?
That’s not what I want. I want to know. It’s fine if other people want to make this decision on their own, but I’m not them.
I’m me. Do you want me to get pregnant right now? Yes or no?”
“No.”
“Good. Thank you. It wasn’t in the plan!”
“It wasn’t in the plan,” he echos.
“We said five years. We’re not even halfway since we decided that.”
“Exactly.”
“Good. Will you take me to the chemist in the morning?” I’m a confident driver, but right now I just want someone to take care of me.
“Yes, of course. What do you think I’m going to say? No, order an uber in the middle of nowhere? Baby…”
I pout. “Don’t tease me.”
“I wouldn’t dare. Can I hold you?”
I nod, stepping into his arms. “You say that as if I’m dangerous,” I mutter against his shoulder.
“Yes.”
I poke at his furred chest. He nips gently at my shoulder in return.
“I love you,” he says quietly, scooping me back up and carrying me inside. “I’m sorry this night turned to shit. I’m blaming the eclipse.”
“Oh, so now the eclipse changes things! That’s what I’m going to tell my GP when we get back to Motuwai. ‘Give me a new IUD please, because the lunar eclipse made my husband’s giant werewolf dick scoop out the last one.’ She’s going to judge me so much.”
“She’s a werecat, isn’t she? If she gives you shit for it, send her my way.”
“Are you going to threaten my doctor?”
“I will threaten everyone in both realms who upsets my wife.” He carries me down through the house to the main bathroom. “But first, let’s run you a bath. I didn’t want to say earlier and get my head bitten off, but you’ve still got twigs in your hair.”
He’s right. I stare in the mirror at my red-rimmed eyes, picking out bits of leaf litter from among the blonde strands, leaving a neat little pile on the vanity counter.
“I feel like that’s the least of my worries.
” I catch his eye in the mirror — even in his werewolf form, he’s started getting the bath ready, adding in my favourite bath salts while on his knees.
“I’m sorry,” I say, pushing the straps of my linen dress off my shoulders. It drops to the floor in a puddle, leaving me standing naked.
“I told you not to apologise.”
“I mean for raising my voice outside.”
“I think you can be forgiven for feeling panicked, Ellie. But thank you.”
I take his hand, allowing him to help me into the bath. It’s hot and calming and smells deliciously fresh. I sink back, closing my eyes. Van cups my head in his hands, claws put to use as he gives me a gentle scalp massage, and I hum with satisfaction.
“What a night,” I mutter.
“It was fucking hot until it wasn’t,” Van chuckles. “I did not expect to find your fucking IUD just sitting in there.”
“Your face,” I say. “I’m going to laugh about it so I don’t cry.”
“Good. It’s not worth stressing about.”
I yawn, keeping my eyes shut as he washes my hair. The rest of my bath passes in companionable silence until Van eventually says, “It’s time to get you to bed.”
I’m wrapped in a huge towel and carried once more, deposited in the centre of our bed. Van disappears and returns a moment later with my hairbrush, giving me a mock snarl when I reach for it. “I’ll do it.”
“This feels like a strange sort of fairy tale,” I whisper once he’s done, as he tucks me in. “The garden fairy and the werewolf with the best aftercare routine.”
“The garden fairy with the pussy so loose her Mirena fell out.”
I gasp with mock offence, poking him playfully in the arm, and he barks out a laugh.
“You were just telling me earlier today how tight it is!”
“It is. Usually.” He gets up, grabbing my wrists before I can poke him again.
“I am joking. And it’s a terrible, misogynistic joke, and I’m sorry.
” He leans over me, muzzle pressing to my forehead for a moment in the werewolf version of a kiss.
“Go to sleep, little fairy. We’ll sort it all out in the morning. ”
“You feeling okay?”
I look up from my breakfast and across the cafe table at Van’s concerned face.
We’re sitting outdoors, enjoying the sunshine and our last morning in Arrowtown’s cutesy little tourist precinct before we fly back tonight.
“Totally fine.” I’d had a little bit of nausea after taking the morning after pill yesterday, but nothing significant.
“Honestly, I was expecting way worse; I had a friend in uni who had bad cramping and a decent amount of spotting after they took it.”
The way Van’s brows draw down into a frown is comical. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Well, I’m telling you now,” I smile sweetly, teasing him.
I spear one of the small sausages on my plate with my fork, holding it out to him like a peace offering.
“I didn’t want you to worry more than you already have, okay honey?
Don’t think I can’t sense the guilt swirling around in there.
Which is silly, when you’ve told me not to feel that way. ”
“I…” He pauses, frowning off into the distance.
A moment later, a heavily-pregnant orc waddles past our table, and I watch Van’s golden eyes track her movement all the way back to her seat.
He sighs heavily, before leaning forward, biting the sausage straight off my fork.
I watch him chew, waiting for him to speak.
He is, as ever, incredibly handsome, and I never tire of staring at him.
“Since the event,” he begins, rolling his eyes as he references the other night, “it’s occurred to me that there’s a significantly higher burden on you when it comes to all of this stuff.”
“Having babies? Or not having babies? Or simply existing with a uterus?”
He nods, so sincerely that I bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from smiling, though I can’t help but ask, “It’s just occurred to you?”
“No, obviously not, not the basics. I mean the risks to you. You specifically. Pregnancy, birth, postpartum, all of it.”
I shrug. “Yeah. It sucks. I still want kids in the future. And your mum has quite literally had visions of our future daughter, so… what can you do? It is what it is. Is that what the guilt is about?”
“Partially.”
“What’s the other part?”
There’s a flash of something in his eyes — a look I’ve seen a thousand times, a hunger that lights a fire in every part of me. “The guilt is that I know the risks, but despite that…” He licks his lower lip, and I bite down on mine.
“Despite that?” I prompt.
“I can’t stop thinking about how fucking good you’re going to look pregnant.”