Page 115 of The Warlock's Trial

He paused to look at me. “Aren’t you fulfilling your marital duties?”

I went speechless for a beat, but quickly scrambled to find my tongue. “Are you asking if I’m sexually active?”

He crinkled his nose, like the phrase was a sin to speak aloud. “I wouldn’t put it that way. Are you and your husband having intercourse?”

The question felt wholly inappropriate, but he was a doctor, and it wasn’t the first time I’d been asked the question at a medical appointment. I just didn’t like the way he said it. “We are, but?—”

“How many sexual partners have you had in the last year?” He stared at me with a pointed expression, like he expected me to answer more than one.

I gaped. I couldn’t believe he’d have the gall to even suggest I was cheating on my husband. “One, for the Goddess’s sake! But my husband and I use protection—condoms, every time.”

“And what about your birth control pills? Are you taking those regularly?”

“I’m not on birth control,” I said. “We didn’t want it interacting with my other meds.”

“Well, if you weren’t planning for a child, you should be on the pill,” he stated. “Condoms aren’t entirely effective. I certainly wouldn’t blame your husband if he chose to go without them every now and then.”

All I could do was stare at the doctor, because I was so shocked. Was he implying what I thought he was? Lucas would never do something like that.

“My husband and I are monogamous,” I stated firmly, so he couldn’t miss a single word. “We respect each other, and we use protection. Your diagnosis is wrong, and I’d like to speak with a specialist about my condition.”

He smiled proudly. “You’re in luck, then. I’ve delivered many babies.”

“I’m not pregnant,” I insisted. I couldn’t be.

“If you’d like, we can take a urine sample and perform a traditional pregnancy test,” he offered, though his tone was less than kind. “You said your period is due today, so the test should be accurate.”

I crossed my arms. The only reason I’d do the test was to prove this guy wrong. I felt sorry for the women who walked into his office pregnant and had to receive the news from him so bluntly. He was a horrible doctor, and he needed someone to put him in his place.

“Yes. I’d like that,” I said.

Dr. Malach stood and went over to a drawer by the sink. He pulled out a urine cup, a disinfectant wipe, and a baggie, then handed them to me. “The bathroom is just down the hall.”

I stomped out of the room in malicious compliance. I got my sample, then returned to the exam room. When I stepped inside, Dr. Malach had a testing kit spread across the counter, and he was wearing a pair of latex gloves. The test kit was different from the at-home tests I’d seen before, but the idea was the same.

Dr. Malach snatched the urine cup straight out of my hands. He used a dropper to place a drop of urine on a test strip. I tapped my foot impatiently from behind him, waiting for the test to reveal the truth—that he was wrong. He shot a narrowed glance over his shoulder, but he didn’t say anything for at least a full minute. The liquid seeped through the test strip until a singular solid line formed…

Followed by a second light pink one.

Dr. Malach grinned smugly. “Pregnant. Just as I said.”

The room swayed around me. I couldn’t be sure which way was up or down. I stumbled backward and caught myself on the chair behind me, then sank into it. I’d walked through hell and back, and it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as this moment.

“How can I be pregnant?” I whispered, more to myself than to the doctor.

“It’s quite simple,” he started.

“I know how,” I bit. “Is the baby going to be okay?”

Dr. Malach sat back down at his computer to look over my chart. “We recommend women wait at least a year after a transplant to start trying for a baby. Your medications could harm the baby, so we usually switch women over to pregnancy-safe meds at least six weeks before they start trying.”

My pulse quickened. “So the meds I’m taking aren’t safe?”

Dr. Malach typed a few things into his computer, and his eyebrows shot up. “Actually, they are. It looks like you started a new prescription recently.”

My shoulders relaxed. Thank the Goddess for Dr. Metzi. She’d put me on new meds when I first came to Hok’evale. It’d been such a lucky break.

“But you haven’t been on the meds long enough,” he added. “Besides, women with lupus shouldn’t have babies until their disease has been inactive for at least six months.”

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