Page 71 of Wolf's Providence

“Hi, Doc, nothing’s wrong.”Lie lie lie. “I was wondering if I could ask a few questions?”

“I love questions,” he told me, and I heard the warmth in his voice. It was so natural and familiar that I fought back tears. “Shoot.”

“I’ve not been sick,” I told him bluntly, forcing my voice to be strong as if nothing was wrong. As if the man I cared so much for hadn’t just been devastated by my foolish reaction. “Since coming home,” I clarified. “I’ve had one flare up. Nothing to really note.” I drew in a shaky breath. “What’s happening? Am I still human?”

I gave him time to consider it, the silence almost welcome. “You’re still human,” he finally spoke. “As to what’s happening? I need to know more. Can I ask questions?”

“Of course.”

“Some may be more personal than we normally share, Willow,” he said, his voice lower, clearly uncomfortable, which struck me as odd.

“Shoot,” I copied his earlier answer.

“Where’s Caleb?” he asked. It sounded almost like an afterthought.

“He’s…out.” That wasn’t a lie. Just not a true reflection of my current reality.

“You two okay?” he asked carefully.

“Couldn’t be better,” I lied again. “So, your questions?”

Talking to Doc distracted me, but my eyes stayed glued to the door, waiting for Caleb to come home.

We talked about my diet, and he wasn’t in approval of some of my food choices, noting more meat in my diet than previously. He didn’t ask why I was sleeping so soundly. I guess he didn’t need a doctor’s degree to know how biology worked.

“Are you using protection?” Doc suddenly asked.

“Condoms?” I squeaked when I finally found my voice.

“Yes.”

My face was burning. “Um. No.”

“Uh-huh, and are you on birth control?”

He wasn’t kidding when he said he was asking uncomfortable questions. “Um, yes.”

“Pill?”

“Mm-hmm.” This was beyond awkward.

“Yeah, that won’t work. Caleb’s a shifter,” Doc told me, his voice clipped. Professional. “Shifter sperm is tenacious; basic birth control won’t do squat against Caleb’s little guys, or gals, I should say in this day and age.”

“I could be pregnant?” I felt faint.

“Do you feel nauseous in the morning? At night? Do your breasts feel tender? Are you having weird cravings?” He hesitated. “Like meat?”

“I could be pregnant?”

“Willow? Are you going to pass out?” he asked quickly. “If you are, please make sure you’re not in a place where you canhurt yourself if you fall. Actually, sit down and put your head between your legs.”

I didn’t move. My mind was racing, furiously working out period math. “I can’t be pregnant,” I suddenly blurted. “It’s been too soon since my period.”

“Shifter pregnancies are quicker, even in humans,” Doc said calmly. “Let’s discuss your cycle.”

He asked me a few more questions, and as he did, my panic lessened. He hadn’t outright said it, but I think he was coming around to the idea I wasn’t pregnant too.

The panic never fully receded within me though, and as he made me feel like a teenager while he gave me the “safe sex” talk, I listened intently. Caleb was wearing a condom from now on. When I said as much to Doc, he told me they wouldn’t be as effective as they were with a human male. Neither would withdrawing before ejaculation—his words, not mine—because shifter sperm was indeed tenacious, and some wanted out before the big finale so they could catch my eggs unawares and knock me up.

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