I slowly turn over and face Josie as she removes her hand from my hair. Slowly, the nausea begins to trickle back. That terrible sensation that I hate. I reach out for her hand and bring it back to my head, and she gets the message. She strokes my hair, threading her fingers through it and untangling it as my body settles back down.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I guess it’s possible.”
“Aside from being a trainer in the ranks, I’m also a nurse. We have ways of determining if you’re pregnant. I think we should look into it. It’s one of only a handful of things that would explain why you’ve been so sick these past few days.”
“What are the other explanations?” I ask.
“Wooded fever. Tapeworms. A couple of deadly ailments a Primal can contract from things like ticks and fleas.”
“Great,” I say flatly. “I’m either pregnant or dying.”
“Some people would agree those are one and the same,” she says with a smile.
“How would you test for pregnancy out here in the middle of the woods?”
“Simple. You pee on a stick.”
“So you have pregnancy tests out here.”
“It’s funny to me that you still believe we’re so primitive,” she says. “Come on. I’ll help you to the bathroom. But if you are pregnant, we need to know. Your diet has to change if you are.”
“If I can stomach anything down.”
“Trust me, I’ve got some good recipes.”
“Are you the chef of the village as well?” I ask.
“And if I am?”
I grin at her as she helps me from the couch. My nausea is overwhelming, but I do my best to keep it at bay. The truth is, I’m scared I am pregnant. From the first moment my sickness woke me up, I was scared. Partially because I had no way of telling who the father is and partly because of the prophecy. The guys are hell-bent on the fact that I’m the girl from the prophecy they need to be protecting. The savior of the Primal races or whatever. And my only argument for getting them off my back and not being so damn overprotective all the time is the fact that the woman in the prophecy is pregnant.
And if I’m pregnant, even I can’t deny that the prophecy is probably true.
And that the guys are right as well.
I don’t want to be the prophecy. I don’t want to be the person multiple races look toward for revitalization and the continuance of their species. I don’t want that responsibility. I don’t want that deed. I don’t want to be a brooding mare for the Primals. I want my own life. I want to live and love and cherish the life I have. The life that is always being manipulated by circumstances beyond my control.
Josie helps me sit down on the toilet before she rummages around underneath the bathroom sink. She hands me a small cardboard box, then she slips out to give me some privacy. My hands are shaking as I unravel the pregnancy test. I do my best to use it as the directions specify, then I cap it off and set it on the bathroom counter.
As I clean myself up, my bad decisions race to the forefront of my mind. Theo and Norway. Sebastian and the cabin. Each of them made in the heat of the moment. I am a strong woman. I pride myself in it. I’ve somehow been able to tolerate the incessant arguing of full-grown males who want to throw themselves at me. I’ve somehow made it through the death and resurrection of my husband. I’ve somehow survived figuring how I wasn’t wholly human and that my parents were slaughtered and that some sort of war to wipe out all humans is coming.
But I was weak to them. To Theo’s comfort and Sebastian’s tongue. I was weak to them in that moment, despite proving myself to be the definition of strength. I don’t need them until I do. I didn’t need Theo until I did. Underneath those stars as my legs straddled his body. I didn’t need Sebastian until I did. In the rickety cabin by the fire as his tongue licked my wound closed.
I had wanted both of them equally. Fully. And during the moment, I was unashamed.
Now, I’m not sure what I can believe or feel.
My ethics tell me I’ve cheated on my husband. He’s alive, even though I buried him. Which means I’m still married. But to what end? He clearly isn’t human any longer, but does that really change anything? Does that change the vows we took? Until death do us apart, that was what we said. And there’s a burial plot with his name on it that marks the end of our marriage.
So does his resurrection mean I’ve been unfaithful to him?
The thought alone brings tears to my eyes. I could never be unfaithful to Kyle. And yet, it doesn’t feel that way. I care for Theo. And I care for Sebastian. And the connection I shared with each of them during our moments of reckoning was passionate and heady and filled with a care even I couldn't deny.
A love I can’t deny even now.
I don’t know what to think. But as my eyes pan up to the test sitting on the bathroom counter, I know what I have to do.
I have to pick it up and look at it. Because whatever I find will change the course of my timeline. It will change my dynamic with the guys. It will choose who I am attached to for the rest of my life if I am pregnant. Even though I don’t want it to. I don’t want them to leave my side. Their fighting is endless, but they’ve been on this journey with me from the beginning. And there’s merit in that. There’s merit in their devotion and their dedication I can’t deny.