Page 25 of Broken Pregnant Mate
We’re nearing the Hysopp forests, and even without saying a thing, Oren and I are both on high alert.
I’m sure we were both raised on the stories of the Hysopp witches, their love for nature, and the curses they’d apply to any being who dared to enter into their land without permission. Some say those are just that—rumors. But I can’t shake the feeling that as we get closer to the border between our lands, something—or someone—is watching us.
Without warning, Oren shifts back to his normal self, a large burlap sack slung around his side. I shift, too, feeling that strange, slightlyoffpull of the generic Amanzite in my ring.
I glance down at my hand, turning the ring around my finger, eyes catching on the stone set in there. To the naked eye,it looks exactly the same as the real thing. We use Amanzite to shift, to facilitate the process and allow us to communicate while in our wolf forms, and when the Ambersky were starting to run low on it, they found a way to fabricate more through magic.
While it looks the same and does all the same things, I can’t deny that there’s a strangeness to it, something that feels off. Like the taste difference in a fruit or vegetable before and after freezing it. Almost undetectable, but there, nonetheless, even if you might not be able to point to the change.
“Hello?” Oren asks, raising an eyebrow at me, and I blink, turning to him, realizing I’ve been standing here staring into my Amanzite like a weirdo.
“Right.” I shove my hands into my pockets and look around, remembering what we’re here for.
Before the dry, red lands of the Ambersky pack change to the thick forests of the Hysopp territory, there’s a long strip of water running between the two, with sandy islands dotting the length of the water. If you wanted to cross, you’d either have to swim through the water or try to jump from island to island.
As humans, it’s not possible.
In our wolf forms, though, we can make the jumps easily.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Oren asks, turning to me, and I resist the urge to frown. It’s one thing to be alone with him; it’s another to make conversation. We should just focus on the task at hand, because if we don’t, I’m going to start thinking about who he is, exactly, and how we both want to kill his father.
And both of those things just put me in a bad mood.
“Yes,” I try not to snap. “I’m ready.”
“Doesn’t seem like you’re ready,” Oren says, tilting his head and considering me, his dark eyes like little lasers. “Seems like you’re distracted by something.”
“I’m not distracted by something.”
“Dorian said you found your mate.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I stop, run my hand over my face. “I didn’tfindher—you know what? It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” Oren says simply, voice flat like he’s talking to an automated line. “Because you being distracted right now could get me killed, and I would very much like to outlast my father.”
There it is again—the reality of our situation hanging between us.
“I promise I won’t let you get killed,” I grouse, swinging my arm out and gesturing to the peaceful area around us. If there were any other animals, they likely scattered at the sound of us approaching earlier. In this place, we are not the prey—we’re the predators. “If a coconut falls, I won’t let it hit you on the head, as much as I want to.”
Oren frowns. “I’m not talking about coconuts. I’m talking about the witches.”
“Fuck,” I take a step toward him, gesturing with my hands. “Keep it down, man.”
“So, you’re aware of the witches, but pretending not to be.”
“They’re not real. Probably.”
Oren squints his eyes, shakes his head, and turns to look out over the rushing water, the islands scattered around that we’ll be jumping to and from to gather the materials we need.
“I don’t understand why finding your mate would put you in such a strange headspace,” Oren says, eyes darting to me. “Shouldn’t this be a good thing for someone who wants a mate?”
“…what does that mean? Someone who wants a mate?”
“Not everyone does.”
“Are you sayingyoudon’t?”
Oren shrugs. “No. But Iamsaying that the biological systems designed to keep our species alive aren’t the same thing as love, which I consider to be a myth.”
