Wolf Bargain (Wolfish 3)

Though the doctor reluctantly begins the examination, he’s anything but thrilled about it.

His hands are rough and his words demeaning, to the point that if there was literally anyone else to take his place, he’d no longer be standing—not in one piece, anyway. Not from the looks on Rory, Marlowe, and Kaleb’s faces.

I’m certain that he’s making this experience as awful as possible, but I have no choice but to bear it. Rory and Marlowe pace the room, trying not to watch but also making sure that the doctor knows they’re there and ready to tear his head from his shoulders if he does anything to actually harm me. Kaleb sits by my head and holds my hand, his own head turned away from me, facing dead ahead.

I focus on Lydia’s face as she calmly waits to hear what the doctor has to say. She’s worried, I can tell, but she still tries to hide it gracefully.

When the exam is finished, I sit up next to Kaleb and pull his arms tightly around me. Rory and Marlowe come to stand in front of the doctor to listen, their own faces doing a poor job of concealing their obvious concern.

The doctor flips through some charts for a long minute, drawing out the expectant moment as he prints out a picture from the portable ultrasound machine he brought along with him. I imagine this isn’t the first emergency birth he’s attended for our kind, though from his obvious distaste, not one he’s particularly keen on.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, unable to remain silent any longer.

He looks at me but doesn’t answer, almost as if he deems me unworthy of speaking to.

“Answer her,” Kaleb growls. I see the flickering light of his glowing eyes emerge.

The doctor is intimidated, rightfully so, but still arrogant.

“Everything is fine,” he scoffs as he yanks the picture gruffly from the machine and hands it to Lydia instead of me. Her mouth drops

open as soon as she sees it and I start to ask her what she sees on the picture, but the doctor interrupts me before I have a chance to speak.

“That’s the problem. She’s already in her third trimester,” he says, his voice flat as he stares straight ahead. “Would’ve been made a whole lot simpler if she’d just admitted she conceived much earlier than she insisted.”

Earlier than I insisted?

I’m in too much shock to point out the dripping condescension in his voice.

“Third trimester?” I say, my voice coming out broken. “But I’ve only been pregnant for … for two?”

Two months.

Two months since the wedding. Since I made love, at last, to Rory, Marlowe, and Kaleb.

Two months since I was poisoned.

Two months wasted.

My mouth grows dry as I struggle to keep myself propped up. My elbows and knees feel suddenly weak and unreliable.

“That’s … that’s impossible!” I say, after a moment choking on my own words.

The doctor just looks at me down the end of his nose. “And are you the doctor here, or am I?”

I’m not the only one at the end of my patience.

“How can it only be a three-month pregnancy?” Rory growls at him. “You heard what Sabrina said. I know her, and she’s no liar. But you …” he trails off. “Perhaps you need to get your medical degree checked.”

“My degree of expertise is just fine,” the doctor snaps at him, but he presses his lips together and sweeps his gaze over me again. He does it in a slow, probing way that makes me shrink in my own skin. “But if you’re all telling the truth, then it sounds like she was impregnated in the midst of her turning.”

“We are telling the truth,” Rory says, taking a dangerous step forward.

Marlowe is quick to swoop in, pulling him back. But even he can’t leave the doctor’s words to hang uncontested between us.

“But what would it matter anyway?” he asks, eyes glued to the doctor as Rory struggles to compost himself in his brother’s grip.

The doctor eyes the two of them for a moment, unsure of whether or not he should even answer. After a moment, he lets out another disconcerting sigh.