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His expression goes dark, so I stop talking.
“Sorry for saying the swearword, there, Scooby Dooby.”
He snickers at the endearment, but then sobers. “Talk to your coven. Your aunt. Find out what can be done.”
I wince. “I don’t think anything can be done. I just need to wait.”
He drops his napkin aggressively.
“So you’re expecting me to do what? Stay away from you so I don’t impregnate you? What if you’re pregnant with my baby and this other pregnancy jumps the queue and hurts our child?”
“Birth control would-”
“You can’t drug yourself to fight off having my baby, putting yourself in danger, because you want to have someone else’s.”
“I’m talking condoms, Riley.”
He gives me a look like I’m suggesting he dip his dick in boiling oil.
“What they went through, Riley…”
He thrusts a hand through his hair, pissed off. “And we haven’t been through a lot?”
“But we’re arguing over a baby that doesn’t exist versus one that does.”
“Our baby. Mine and yours,” he says like that has a whole lot of weight.
Frustrated, I sift my hands through my own hair. “He or she doesn’t exist yet. This other baby does. Or will as soon as his mother is ready to carry him.”
“If she’s not dead,” he says.
“Yeah,” I whisper, hoping that she won’t die.
“If you’re not pregnant and giving birth in the same calendar year as the rest of the council’s mates, there’s a good chance our son won’t be on that council.”
“If the offspring born in that calendar year even are the next council,” I volley.
He looks at me like I’m crazy.
“You don’t know, Riley, if they will be or not. You don’t know if your firstborn will be a council super-alpha. Your first child could be unable to even shift because I’m his or her mother.”
He ponders that a second.
“It could be your child born in another year or it could even be other children from other pack members that make up the next council. You and the other six have only held the seats for what… just over six years? It could be thirty years or more before it’s time for a new council. It could happen in a week. It won’t… I know it won’t because the next council hasn’t been identified yet, but theoretically, it could happen any time. The coven will decide when that happens based on my sister’s clairvoyance.”
“The coven decides?”
I nod.
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Did you think your council just decided to retire and appoint you guys?”
“Pretty much.”
“Ask, if you don’t believe me. Aunt Lyrica used to advise on it. Now it’d be Vivica because she’s got precognition and she’s clairvoyant and will know when it’s time.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t believe you, witch. I just never heard of this shit.”
I stand up and lean forward aggressively. “Don’t call me witch like it’s an insult one minute and an endearment the next, Riley Savage.” And then I storm to the counter and start washing the few dishes in the sink.
I glare over my shoulder at him. His eyes blaze and he looks at me like he wants to punish me.
“So, I see you’re a sassy little witch, sometimes.” He moves to me and sinks his teeth into that mark, and it hurts a little. But more than hurt, it feels good.
I still scoff. “I’m a lot of things.”
He spins me around so I face him.
“I can tell,” he says with a dangerous look in his eye.
Pissed off, I say nothing. Even though I’m pissed off, I’m also wet, responding to the dominance emanating from him.
“When do you find out what the situation is with this other couple?” he asks.
“Halloween. Or very soon thereafter.”
He sighs and thrusts his hand through his hair in frustration. “Well this is just fuckin’ great.”
Slouching, I feel crushed. Because I’m speaking the truth. I can’t jeopardize their unborn child. We put them somewhere to contain possible damage, but we won’t know if any damage to Isabella is contained to that place or if it’ll seep out when the spell unlocks. If all is lost on November first, that child will be my responsibility to not only bring into the world, but likely to raise, too.
And here’s Riley, wanting me. Miraculously. Wanting a family with me. After everything. And here I am hurting him. Again.
He takes a step back, anger in his eyes. “Fuck this.” He throws his pants down to his ankles and steps out of them.
I straighten up and watch him go.
He’s gone… just like that. I see his wolf through the window, take off into a full throttle run.
I frown.
I can’t eat any more of my cheesy cauliflower soup or of my garlic bread. My appetite has vanished. So I put them in the fridge.
Roxy’s didn’t sell banana splits, had bananas and whipped cream, but Sean went to the supermarket in Drowsy Hollow and brought back the other ingredients to make our own. I have a feeling there won’t be any dessert tonight.
