Page 109 of Conner's Luna

"No," I tell him grumpily. "I rested too much. I looked up wolf-people all day yesterday and rested."

"You looked us up?" Conner's smiles are back.

"Yes. I've been thinking," I say. The thoughts in my head are often more entertaining than TV shows. I don't tell people that. It sounds arrogant. I can't help it. I would much rather think about wolf-people than watch someone else's imaginings. Real-life is where it's at.

"About?" he asks.

"Wolf-people, of course," I tell him. My eyes blink, but I don't fall asleep despite how fuzzy my head feels. "I hope they didn't put me on Midazolam. I have a strange reaction to benzodiazepines."

"What reaction?" one of the paramedics asks me in a sharp voice. Well, that answers that question.

"It's supposed to make me sleepy. It keeps me awake, instead," I tell them. "Sometimes for a looong time."

"Shit. You in pain, love?"

"Nope," I say cheerfully. I smile at my three boyfriends. Ha, imagine having three lovers all at once.

"Why don't you ask me your questions, honeygirl?" all the Conners croon.

"How often do you turn into a wolf?"

"It depends. We need to shift periodically. Otherwise, we start to feel weak and mentally... off. I shift about once or twice a week for a few hours. That's the minimum. If I'm home I shift more often."

"Do you have multiple babies?" Darn it. I promised myself I wouldn't ask that!

"Not statistically more than humans," he says with a smile in his voice. "And we don't live that much longer than a typical human lifespan. We do tend to be healthy longer, though."

We reach the hospital. The ambulance speeds into the front circular drop-off area with a screeching halt. The paramedics rush me into the building and down a corridor. The hospital is small and I have a feeling it's for wolf-people. I start to feel worried. I'm not a wolf-person. Tears form at the corners of my eyes as I'm taken to a small, private room and transferred to the cot.

Conner kisses my cheek. "Biology is the only science where multiplication and division are the same thing," he murmurs.

"Don't tell me you want to multiply with me," I warn him in a choked voice.

"I was going to make a joke about sodium and hydrogen, but NaH."

I giggle, but it makes my head start to hurt, so I stop. "How do you know so many science jokes?" I ask him drowsily.

I feel his fingers gently stroke my cheek. "I looked them up so I could hang with my girl," he admits.

Welp, I melt. In such a good way. "I didn't look up any math jokes."

"You don't have to. You're smarter than me already. I need an advantage."

"Oh yeah?" Silly wolf-man. "What's your bite force and capacity?"

"About 2,500 psi."

"Wow," I breathe. "You could chomp me right up. Chomp, chomp, gulp."

"One day," he mumbles.

Before I can ask him what he means by those ominous words, there's a knock on the door and a doctor enters. I'm shocked at the low growl that rumbles through Conner and reverberates right into my bones.

"I specifically asked for Dr. Addesin," he growls.

The man stiffens, looking affronted. "Your doctor can't be here for at least another hour. I won't allow a patient in this hospital to go untreated..." his voice trails off as Conner steps toward him menacingly.

"Conner Octavius Grim," I say his name in my sternest voice.

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