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Claude stops outside with her hand on the door. She pulls her professional mask on, but her scent doesn’t change under it.

Ask her what’s wrong, Aya. I stay quiet and follow her inside.

Bear hits my nose. The shifter stands by the window with his broad shoulders blocking most of the light. He has his dark eyes on the exam table, where his mate sits with her legs dangling over the edge. She’s small next to him, with warm brown skin and natural hair pulled back in a puff. Her hands are spread wide over her belly.

He turns when we walk in and scents Claude first, then me. He’s sizing us up for a threat, and I can’t blame him. My wolf would do the same for her mate.

“Max. Jenna.” Claude beams at them. “How are we feeling today?”

“Nervous,” Jenna admits with a shaky laugh. “Is that normal?”

“Completely normal.” Claude sets up the ultrasound machine. “First pregnancies are always nerve-wracking, and bear cubs come with their own set of worries.”

Max hasn’t budged from the window. He tracks Claude’s every move, then mine when I step in to help with the equipment. His scent is sharp with worry and an aggression he’s hardly keeping a lid on. My wolf wants to growl back.

I pull out the chair beside the exam table and pat the seat. “You can sit,” I tell him. “She’s safe here.”

He grunts at me and doesn’t move until his mate reaches out. “Max. Come here.”

He crosses the room to take her hand and drops into the chair without giving it back. He rubs his thumb across it while Claude explains the procedure. I doubt he hears a word she says. He’s too busy watching Jenna’s face. Every time the paper on the table crinkles, he scents her all over again.

So this is the bond up close, with all the hovering and the touching. My parents are the same way. My father can’t cross a room without reaching for my mother. He’s always kissing the top of her head or pulling her into his side.

Ezra’s been like this with me for years. He writes me poems and stands outside the spa or any other building I’m in just to catch a glimpse.

Claude nudges my arm. “Aya,” she whispers. “The Doppler.”

My face heats. Get it together, girl. I grab the handheld unit and hurry around to Jenna’s side. She already has her shirt up over the small swell of her belly. She flinches when I squeeze the cold gel onto her skin. Across the table, Max growls at me.

“Sorry.” I wince. “Should have warned you.”

“It’s fine.” She gives me a shy smile. “Just wasn’t expecting it.”

I press the Doppler low on her stomach and move it the way Claude taught me. Every shifter here can already hear the cub’s quick little heartbeat under her pulse, but this part is for her. Static crackles through the speaker and clears into a fast thump-thump-thump that fills the exam room.

Jenna gasps and claps a hand over her mouth with her eyes filling up. Max doesn’t spare the machine a glance. He watches her instead, and his scent finally loses its edge.

Claude points at the gray shape coming in on the screen. “That’s your baby,” she tells them. “Strong heartbeat. Good size for four months.”

I hold the Doppler steady for Claude’s measurements. The cub is curled into a tight little ball with a fist tucked up by its face. For now it could be any baby, but before long it’ll be big enough to kill her if we don’t get her on the table in time. I smile for Jenna’s sake.

“Everything looks healthy,” Claude announces. “The cub is developing well. But I want to prepare you for what’s coming. Bear cubs are large. Much larger than human babies. Your body is going to change significantly over the next few months, and we’ll need to monitor you closely.”

Jenna flattens her hand over her belly. “How big are we talking?” she asks.

“The average bear cub at birth is around twelve to fifteen pounds. Some are bigger.” Claude doesn’t sugarcoat a thing. “That’s why we do the C-section. It’s the safest option for you and the baby.”

“I’ll be there the entire time,” Claude continues. “So will my brother Sam. You’re in good hands.”

Max lifts Jenna’s fingers to his mouth and kisses them. “What about after?” he rumbles. “When the cub is born?”

“Bear cubs sometimes shift involuntarily in their first few weeks,” Claude answers. “It’s normal. Your baby might go from human to cub and back again, especially when they’re upset or hungry. It can be startling if you’re not prepared.”

Jenna gives a wet laugh and wipes her eyes. “Guess I better get used to surprises.”

Max rests his forehead against her temple. I turn away and wrap up the Doppler cord. No one needs me gawking at a moment like this.

I hand Jenna tissues for the gel and toss the used supplies. Claude goes over the follow-up appointments and a new diet while the printer spits out the ultrasound photos. Max wants to know all about the delivery and what he can do to help. The worry coming off him stings my nose more with each answer.