Page 26 of Pregnant Kidnapped Mate

“Malcolm, what’s this about?” I asked. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m getting to the bottom of something that’s been bothering me since I met Iris,” he responded. He said it matter-of-factly, without accusation or malice. But Iris still paled.

“I didn’t do anything.” She shrank back into her chair. “It’s just me being weird. I’ve always been a bit weird like that.”

“I’m not saying you’re weird, Iris,” he said reassuringly. “You’re not weird or off or anything like that. But I think you’re special.”

Iris’s brow furrowed as she remained curled back in her chair. I had to admit I was curious, too. By now, everyone was paying rapt attention to the exchange, hanging onto every word, all of us equally confused.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“You’re psychic,” Malcolm said.

Chapter 11 - Iris

The only thing I could hear was the ringing in my ears.

Malcolm was joking. He had to be. There was no way I was psychic. But he didn’t look like he was joking. He was staring at me with interest, head tilted as he considered me.

My face turned a brilliant red as everyone stared at me. I hated being under a microscope like this. It made me feel like a freak. Which, if I really was psychic, I might as well be.

“You’re wrong,” I managed to say. “I can’t be.”

Malcolm shook his head. “I thought you might be when we first met when you guessed my name,” he said. “I wasn’t positive. But one of the ways precognition manifests is through dreams, especially in an untrained psychic.”

I opened my mouth to tell him he was wrong again—because he definitely had to be wrong. But then I closed it again as several things fell into place. All the times I’d been a bit odd growing up, seeming to guess everything correctly or know things I really shouldn’t have known. The dreams I’ve had over the years that had turned out to be true. It could all be explained by me being psychic.

“Psychic? Really?” Tannen said with interest as I continued to process the news. “I’ve read about them a bit.”

“Aren’t they supposed to be pretty rare?” Rand asked.

“They’re not common,” Malcolm agreed. “You come across them about as often as you come across witches.”

“What does that mean, then?” Alek asked. There was a tension to the words, his eyes flicking intently between myself and Malcolm. “Is she going to be all right?”

Malcolm cracked a smile. “She’s not going to go crazy or anything like that, don’t worry, Alek,” he said. “But it’s always useful to train these types of talents. I have a bit of experience working with psychics, and I knew a couple of shifters who had the gift.” He looked at me again. “I might be able to help train you, if you’d like?”

I considered it, mulling the idea over in my head. It made sense, and the idea of learning more about this and figuring out how to control it seemed like the best option.

I nodded.

“In that case, I’ll come by your place in a couple of days, and we’ll get started.” Malcolm’s eyes sparkled. “You’ve inherited a really special gift. It’s not one to be ashamed of. In fact, it might come in use when you least expect it.”

***

I leaned over the toilet, groaning and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Something wasn’t agreeing with my stomach. I’d been queasy all morning and had run to the bathroom twice so far.

As I sat on the floor, my eyes landed on the toilet paper roll. It was out. I might as well replace it while I was down here.

I crouched down beneath the sink to rummage for another roll. As I did, my hand brushed past a box of tampons, knocking it over. A few tampons went sprawling, so I reached to pick them up. But then I froze, my eyes widening.

Tampons.

Heart thundering, I ran the numbers in my head, trying to remember when my last period was. My stomach sank with disbelief and dread. I should have had my period three days ago.

And I’d had an upset stomach all morning.

My head swam with the connotations. There was no way. I’d been careful. I’ve been on the pill. I couldn’t be…could I?

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