“Every so often,” Malcolm said. “Since humans and shifters don’t interact a whole lot, it’s not a common occurrence.”

The three of us rounded the corner into the living room, where Iris was still curled up on the couch. She gave us an uneasy smile, her eyes darting from Klyte to Malcolm.

“Hey, Iris,” Klyte said. All of the sarcasm and levity he normally exuded were gone, replaced with compassion and seriousness. The same way it did every time he did anything healing-related. “How are you doing?”

“Honestly? Nervous.” She gave a shaky, uneasy laugh. “Really, really nervous.”

He nodded, digging into his bag and pulling out a stethoscope. “Totally understandable,” he said. “But right now, you don’t need to worry about anything. I’m going to put this on your stomach, all right?”

“Are you going to be able to tell anything?” she asked. “I only just figured out I was pregnant. These types of things take a while, right?”

“Not for shifters,” Klyte said. “We develop a lot faster and have a much shorter gestation period, roughly five-ish months. So, depending on what I hear, I should get a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”

Iris had paled when he’d said shifters had a shorter gestation period. She glanced at me for a moment, then back at Klyte, who nodded.

“Yeah, it’s a lot,” he said. “But it’s all going to be fine, I promise. Now, do me a favor and take some deep breaths. I’m going to need you to be quiet for a couple minutes, all right?”

She nodded, rolling up her shirt to show her still-flat stomach. Klyte pressed the stethoscope against her stomach, listening intently. A heavy silence hung over everything as we waited. My wolf paced anxiously, wanting to know that the mother of his cub was going to be all right. He growled and flexed his claws, clearly irritated that it was taking so long.

Finally, Klyte moved back. “All right,” he said, taking a deep breath. “So, you’re going to have a shorter gestation period. Sounds like the little guys are already pretty active.”

“How is that going to affect—wait, guys?” Iris practically squeaked.

Klyte shrugged. “I suppose they could be girls, but—”

“No, I’m not talking about that,” she said. “I’m talking about the fact that you’re using the plural form.”

“Ah.” Klyte rubbed his neck, glancing up at me while I stared at him, dumbstruck. “Yeah, it’s twins. Sorry, there was probably a better way for me to tell you.”

“Twins?” Iris’s voice was two octaves higher than usual.

He nodded.

“Does that mean they’re both shifters? Can one be human?”

“No,” Klyte said. “It would mess too much with the gestation period.”

“I don’t know anything about raising shifters,” Iris said. “Granted, I don’t know anything about raising human babies. But this is something entirely different.”

“Good thing you’re in a shifter community, then,” Klyte said. “We know all about it. I know Jenn’s got some books she can give you.”

“What about the birth?” Iris asked nervously. “I mean, I’ve heard stories about how shifter babies claw their way out of the moms’ stomachs. That isn’t true, is it?” Her face reddened in mortification. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was so rude.”

But all three of us were laughing.

“That is one of the best anti-shifter rumors I’ve ever heard,” Klyte said.

“Definitely haven’t heard that one before,” Malcolm chuckled. “And no, that’s not true at all.”

Iris’s face was still the color of a tomato. It was weirdly adorable. “What if they shift inside me?” she asked. “Is that a thing that happens?”

Malcolm shook his head. “Most kids start shifting around nine, but some can shift as early as seven,” he said. “So, there’s no way they’ll be able to do that in the womb.”

“We’ll still want to keep a close eye on you,” Klyte said. “Mostly because I want to make sure there aren’t any issues with nutrition. Right now, that’s the only thing I can really think of that might affect things. Shifter babies can be rather demanding in the womb. You, uh, might start craving raw meat.”

“Raw meat?” Iris repeated, gaping at him. She glanced at me, eyes wide. “I don’t…that’s…”

“We can figure out an alternative solution,” Malcolm said. “It’s all right.”