Page 27 of The Wild Wolf's Rejected Mate

“I can’t have a pup.” And I can’t make the decision not to. “But I—” I can’t say it. Fate will surely strike me down if I do. What’s done cannot be undone.

“There are ways,” she says, pushing up from the table and padding to the kitchen. She takes a mason jar from an overhead cabinet and spoons loose leaves into a metal ball strainer. My nose twitches. The blend smells medicinal.

I watch her like a mouse watches an eagle. She shuffles back to the table, downs the dregs of her tea, and then drops the strainer in and pours a fresh cup of hot water.

Is that poison?

“I can’t…can’t dothatto a pup.”

Abertha’s face hardens. She holds the strainer by its thin chain and dips it into the water. “We’re not talking about a pup.”

“We aren’t?”

“Not at this point.” She lets out a long, tired breath. “What do they even teach you at that academy?”

I shrug. “Literature. Geology. Calculus.”

“What is that?”

“I don’t know. It’s math about figuring change. Continuous change.”

“At least that sounds useful. Changeiscontinuous.” She gives her head a shake and returns to the subject. “You’ve learned no basic anatomy and biology, though, I’m guessing. How do I put this…we’re not talking about a pup because thereisno pup. No bun in the oven yet. Just ingredients. Orpossibleingredients.”

“What’s apossibleingredient?”

“Well, to be specific, the egg. The egg is still in the fridge. It’s not even in the mixing bowl yet. And an egg in the carton isn’t aningredient, right? Who knows what you’re going to do with that egg. You might throw it at someone’s truck. You might drop it.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about. I think the bowl is my vagina, but the rest—I’m lost. I did take biology and anatomy, but it was mostly about the mechanics of shifting and how we’re different from humans, so we need to be careful not to hurt them by accident.

Abertha sighs again. “Okay, let me put it this way. Is an egg in the fridge a cake?”

“No.”

“If you mix egg and flour and leave it on the counter, is it a cake?”

“No.”

“To make a cake, you’ve got to mix the egg and flour and put it in the oven, and if you don’t take the egg out of the fridge, or if you don’t put the batter in the oven, all you’ve got are ingredients. No cake.”

“Okay.”

“The cake is a pup.” Abertha is looking at me like I’m slow as molasses.

“I get that.”

“The oven is your uterus.Notyour vagina. And there’s a difference.”

My face heats. I didn’t say that out loud. She can’t know I was thinking it.

“We can shut the refrigerator door so no egg gets out. Get it? No cakes will be hurt. No cakes will ever exist.”

“I get it.” I kind of do. She can give me something that will make it like today never happened. Nothing and no one will be hurt. I can erase everything. That’s what I want. My heart doesn’t hurt at the thought. Those are just aches from a hard day. “Okay, yes, I want that. Is it sure to work?”

“It’s very likely to work. Of course, if the cake’s already in the oven, it won’t.”

“Will it hurt the cake if the cake is already in there baking?” I don’t want to hurt anything. I just want it never to have happened.

“No, it won’t. If you shut the refrigerator door after the egg gets out, it has no bearing whatsoever on the cake.”

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