Chapter 15
Five days had passed since Lina brought Izayuh to me.
I finally clasped the necklace around my neck, keeping him close to my heart.
Four days ago, I woke up, and as Lina warned, my breasts ached.
My shirt was soaked. I sat on the floor of the shower sobbing that morning.
I barely left my room that day or the next.
Quinnlyn brought cabbage leaves in, like he knew what was wrong without me saying anything at all.
I’d barely been eating, much to Quinnlyn’s annoyance.
He let me know before I went to sleep that we would be going to the clinic the following day.
Once I woke up, I took a shower. Less milk leaked out than the days before.
They still ached, reminding me that my body mourned Izayuh as much as my heart did.
We drove to the Gramercy, which was a little town outside of the Parish we were staying in.
There was a small clinic on the square, just as Lina said.
We pulled into the small lot out front. I opened the door and walked into the clinic.
I stopped inside the door and looked around.
There were three pregnant women and their partners sitting in the waiting room.
Quinnlyn placed his hand on my lower back.
I inhaled a breath and walked to the receptionist, giving her my name.
We both sat down to wait until Dr. Arthur could see me.
I kept my head down, my thumb and finger rubbing the pendant hanging around my neck.
I didn’t want to look at the women sitting in the room.
Their babies were safe and sound within them, and mine?
He was reduced to a pinch of ash hanging around my neck. A cleared throat pulled me back.
“Are you two together? Expecting a baby?” one of the men asked.
“That matters to you how?” Quinnlyn countered.
“Blacks and whites don’t need to be… making mutts,” he said.
Quinnlyn stood up, and the chair skidded back. I instinctively grabbed his wrist, pulling him back.
“You’re a racist pig, and we all bleed the same color,” I said.
Quinnlyn sat back down, his fists clenched, and the veins in his neck standing out. I stood and walked to the receptionist.
“Is there any way we can go to a room?” I asked.
She furrowed her brows at me.
“Firstly, I recently lost my child, and sitting out here is salt in the wound. Secondly, apparently, my friend being a different color than I is an issue,” I snarkily said.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said.
I sat back down next to Quinnlyn. I may have felt hate toward Quinnlyn, but he didn’t deserve their hate.
Mine was justified, and even then, I wouldn’t stoop that fucking low.
My anger rose with every second we sat there.
They stared at us like we were the abominations.
If only they looked in the mirror and saw the actual abominations of the world.
“Zalayuh?” the nurse called.
We both stood up and followed her to the back. I initially wasn’t going to let Quinnlyn come back with me, but I also couldn’t leave him out there. We walked into a small room and sat in the chairs. The nurse took my vitals before she left the room.
“You didn’t need to do that,” Quinnlyn said.
“What was I supposed to do?” I asked.
“Nothing, just ignore them,” he said.
“Like you were about to do? When you stood up?” I asked.
“I had it… under control,” he muttered.
“Is this how it is everywhere?” I asked.
“Yes, more so back home. How many black or mixed kids were in your high school?” he asked.
“I guess not many.”
“Exactly. My parents endured this often. They taught me that being cool and calm was being the bigger person. Not to be the monster they already thought I was, but sometimes I get really pissed, especially around full moons,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
“There you go apologizing again…” he said.
Neither of us said anything else. I wasn’t sure what to say.
His experience wasn’t mine. Growing up, my family could say damn near any curse word except racial slurs.
My dad’s sister was married to a black man after all, but they didn’t see us much after he left, and they never shared how people treated them.
Dr. Arthur walked in fifteen minutes later.
“How are you, Miss Zalayuh?” he asked.
“I’ve been better,” I said.
“Yeah, I imagine. How is your bleeding?”
“Almost gone, little spotting here and there,” I said.
“That's good and normal. How about your breasts?” he asked.
“It was pretty bad, but it’s getting better each day,” I told him.
“How are your emotions?”
“Good,” I said.
“Hmm… may have heard you went off on someone in the waiting room,” he said.
“That wasn’t going off… that was putting gross people in their place,” I said.
“Quinnlyn, how are her emotions at home?” he asked, looking at Quinnlyn.
“Um… I don’t know what is normal or not when it comes to this,” Quinnlyn said.
“Is she crying every day?” he asked.
“Yep,” he said, giving me the side eye.
My cheeks flushed with heat.
“I’m right here,” I said.
“You are, but I don’t think you’re being honest,” Dr. Arthur said.
“You want to hear that I cry every night? Then yes, I do. Every night, multiple times a day. I think of Izayuh and cry. It’s getting better each day, though,” I said.
“Thanks for the honesty. That is what I wanted to hear, and it’s normal to feel emotional even if your baby was here, even more so because he isn’t,” he told me. “What are your plans for birth control?”
Quinnlyn choked out a cough. I gawked at Dr. Arthur, eyes and mouth wide, no words coming out.
“You’re eighteen, and were pregnant. Let’s not be naive here,” he said, looking between us.
“Oh, nothing is going on between us!” I said.
“Yet, you two are living together. Most women take a pill daily, but some opt to do a shot that lasts several months. You have five weeks before you can have intercourse, so think about it,” he said.
“Um… okay,” I said.
“You can start doing more things like exercising. Don’t lift much more than twenty pounds for another week or so, then you can start increasing activity if you want. If your bleeding picks up, you’re doing too much. You need to eat and take care of yourself,” he said.
“Got it.”
“I want to see you back here in five weeks to give you the all clear,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said.
“If you need anything, you can come in here or reach out to Lina. You can go out the exit to the right of the room, avoiding any of the stares. I’ll see you in five weeks, Zalayuh,” he said, then he walked out the door.
Quinnlyn and I both stood up and walked out the door. Part of me really wished I’d made him stay in the truck. Having him hear all of that left me feeling exposed in a way I hadn't since the cell. I quietly got in the truck and shut the door.
Quinnlyn drove us back to the cabin. I was taking in the drive, remembering the turns and landmarks. It didn’t take us very long before we pulled into the driveway of the cabin. I tilted my head at the little porch, where two outdoor chairs sat.
“Were those there this morning?” I asked him.
“No,” he said, then let out a small laugh. “My uncle must have stopped by while we were gone. He told me he would bring some outdoor chairs,” he said.
“Oh, okay,” I said.
I got out of the truck and made my way over to the chairs, rubbing my hand along the armrest before taking a seat in one of them. The leaves were mostly gone from the trees, allowing you to look more into the woods. Quinnlyn sat down in the other chair.
“What would you like for supper?” he asked, breaking the silence between us.
“You know I can cook too, right?” I said, furrowing my brows at him.
“I never said you couldn’t. I was asking a simple question,” he said.
“I don’t like relying on you,” I told him.
“You’re not… I’m just trying to make up for my part in all of this,” he muttered.
“Yeah… how’s that going for you?”
“Really fucking poor, actually,” he snapped.
“What are we doing here?”
“You’re fighting the process of healing, and I’m trying to force it on you… I guess,” he said.
“And then what? Once I’m healed, we go our separate ways?”
“I think I’m gonna go back, and if you want to, then you can. If you don’t, I guess you can stay here, or I can arrange for you to go anywhere you want,” he said.
“I don’t need you to heal, though,” I said.
“Probably not, but you’re still in denial, and I’m still unsure if they actually believe you’re dead. Ravik will not stop unless you are. Especially if he finds out you know what we are, and I’m sure that dipshit told him,” he said.
I hadn’t really thought about that aspect. We were nearly eleven hours away, but Ravik had to have known where Quinnlyn’s family was from. The thought of someone showing up while I was alone made my stomach churn.
“What’s it like when you turn into a wolf?” I asked.
“Where’d that come from?”
“I didn’t want to talk or think about Ravik… and I’ve been wondering about this.”
“It’s extremely painful,” he said.
“Every time?”
“Yes, every single time.”
“And you have to every full moon and then the first sliver after a new moon?”
“Yes, we call it the beginning of the full moon or the first waxing crescent.”
“Do you eat people?” I shot out.
“What? No,” he said, shaking his head.
“Then what?”
“We don’t have to hunt, but if we do, bears are plentiful in the mountains, as well as hogs… and deer,” he said.
I gulped.
“So, that’s the only time you turn into a wolf?”
“No,” he said.
“What do you mean, no? That’s what the book said.”
“That book was fiction… we have control to transform whenever we want, except those two nights,” he said.
I stared at him, terror settling deep in my chest.
“I’ve scared you,” he said, looking down at the ground.
“A little…” I said.
“A lot… I can smell the fear on you. Your heart is beating twice as fast as it normally does,” he said.
“You know that?” I screeched.
“Sometimes I wish I didn’t.”
“What other things can you smell?” I shot out.
“I’d rather not say… How about I get us some lunch instead?” he asked.
“I guess…”
He stood up and walked inside, leaving me outside. Could he smell everything—fear, anger, excitement, sadness, lust? He sensed my fear and anger this entire time. That day when I escaped, I really didn’t have a chance. Not only was I weak, but he could smell me.
He could shift into a wolf at any time. I wasn’t sure how to process that. What if I set him off and he shifted and decided humans were good eating after all? Maybe he lied about hunting humans. He found way too much joy in hunting me that day.