This is getting ridiculous. I’ve barely been able to keep anything down since the night Robbie broke into my cottage. The pack tracked him all the way to the Ridgeback territory border before they had to stop, unable to cross without permission from the neighboring Alpha. Connor told me they’re working on it, that Nic has reached out through official channels, but these things take time. Diplomacy between packs is apparently just as slow and frustrating as diplomacy between nations.
In the meantime, I’m stuck here. Waiting. Wondering when Robbie will pop up again, because I know he will. He always does.
“You look awful.”
I glance up to find Skylar leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed with concern. She’s been my closest friend here since I started, always ready with a kind word or a piece of gossip about pack politics. Right now, though, I could do without her observation skills.
“Thanks,” I mutter. “That’s exactly what every woman wants to hear first thing in the morning.”
“I’m serious.” She crosses to the counter and pours herself a cup from the same questionable pot. “You’ve been green around the gills for days now. Have you seen one of the doctors?”
“It’s just stress. It’ll pass.”
Skylar takes a long sip of her coffee, watching me over the rim. “Stress can do a number on the body, but this seems like something else.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugs, but there’s a knowing look in her eyes that I don’t like. “I’m just saying. The timing is interesting.”
“Interesting how?”
“Well.” She sets her mug down and leans against the counter, getting comfortable like she’s settling in for a long conversation. “You’ve been sick every morning for three days. You can’t stand the smell of coffee anymore, which is new because you used to drink three cups before lunch. Your appetite is all over the place. And unless my nose is completely broken, you’ve been spending a lot of time with a certain security officer lately.”
My cheeks flush with heat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Skylar laughs, the sound warm but pointed. “Fern. I’m a shifter. I can smell him all over you. Have been able to pretty much since the ceremony over a month ago. His scent is practically embedded in your skin at this point.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. He’s been helping me with the Robbie situation. We’ve spent time together because of that.”
“Helping you.” She raises an eyebrow. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Skylar, I’m serious.”
“So am I.” She grins, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “If a man smelled that strongly on me, it would be because we’d done a lot more than talk about security protocols. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. You two are fated, after all. The lottery matched you for a reason. It was bound to happen eventually.”
I open my mouth to argue, to insist that she’s reading too much into things, but another wave of nausea cuts me off. I grip the edge of the counter until my knuckles turn white, breathing through my nose until it passes. When I finally look up, Skylar’s amusement has faded into something more serious.
“Fern, have you considered that maybe you’re not sick? That maybe you’re… You know.”
“No.” The word comes out too fast, too forceful. “Absolutely not. That’s not possible.”
“It would explain the symptoms. The morning sickness, the sensitivity to smells, the mood swings—”
“I haven’t had mood swings.”
“You cried at a commercial for dog food yesterday.”
“It was a sad commercial. The dog was waiting for its owner to come home.”
Skylar gives me a look that says she’s not buying it. “The owner came home at the end. It was a happy ending.”
“I was crying happy tears.”
“Fern.”
“I’m not pregnant, Skylar.” I force myself to meet her eyes, to hold her gaze without flinching. “Connor and I haven’t… We haven’t done anything. We’re just working together on catching Robbie. That’s all there is between us.”
The lie burns in my throat. I think of the kitchen counter, the way his hands held my waist, how he kissed me like he was drowning and I was oxygen. I think of the clearing after our mating ceremony, the feeling of him moving inside me while my back pressed against rough bark. I think of every stolen moment, every heated glance, every time we’ve given in to the pull between us.
