Page 7 of Change the Plan
ELLIE
“Well, this is a whole new walk of shame experience,” I say sarcastically. Five seconds later, my antlers catch on a branch overhead, leading me to stumble over a tree root. Van’s huge clawed hand darts out, wrapping around my upper arm to steady me.
“I’m carrying you the rest of the way,” he growls.
“No, I’m fine,” I insist, magicking my antlers away.
“You won’t be fine if you roll a fucking ankle.”
There’s not much I can do against an eight-foot-six werewolf. If he wants to carry me — which he clearly does — he will, so I don’t bother protesting when Van picks me up bridal-style, his gait suddenly lengthening. The bitter and upset part of me can’t help but think that he’s trying to prove a point, that I was walking too slow for him, which is ridiculous — in all the years that I’ve known him, since we werechildren, he’s never once intentionally made me feel inadequate about anything.
We’re in shock.Ifeel like an idiot, because I’ve been relying on my IUD for the past two and a half years while regularly getting dicked down by this gigantic version of Van, and not once did I consider the fact that all this pussy-shifting or whatever thefuck it is that I do with my magic would compromise my Mirena, and yet it’s fucking obvious, isn’t it?
I don’t like being wrong. Neither does Van. I’m an only child, he’s an eldest, plus an alpha. That’s a recipe for two high-achieving perfectionists. We’re no fools either, but this feels like the ultimate‘egg on their face’scenario. I know what we’re both thinking, even if we have our bond shut down right now. The anxiety that was pinging between us was too overwhelming.
The IUD in question is now in my dress pocket, and I play with the outline of it through the linen fabric. We’re usually still fucking until five in the morning on the night of a full moon, but I doubt it’s even eleven yet. Neither of us are in the mood for any more fun.
“I feel so stupid,” I say as Van crosses the grassy fields, leaping over the stile between the paddocks with ease. The bonfire ahead has burned down to a glowing pile of embers. “And so embarrassed.”
“Same. But you shouldn’t,” he adds after a moment. “How could we have known, when it’s worked for over two years now?”
“It’s my fault. I’m the one moving things around in my body without even knowing what the fuck I’m doing with my magic.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No. Don’t argue with me. It’s no one’s fault, or we’re both at fault. You choose. Are you angry at me?”
I shake my head.
“Then don’t be mad at yourself. I’m not angry.Surprised?Yeah. Just as surprised as anyone who’s realised they’ve broken a condom, I imagine.”
“Not something you know from experience?” I ask, referencing theyears in betweenfor us, as I always think of the nine years when we weren’t together.
“No, thankfully.”
“Same.” I take a deep breath, feeling the chill on the breeze. If it weren’t for Van’s body heat, I’d be freezing right now. “When did I last ovulate?”
It’s not the usual question one asks their male partner, but Van’s nose never lies. He’s always more in tune with my body than I am.
“Almost two months ago. It was late January. We might be fine.”
“It’s normally every two months for me.”
“I know.”
“Didn’t you once tell me that wolf sperm lives for up to eight days?”
Van keeps his eyes trained ahead. “When it’s from a transformed werewolf, it’s usually ten.”
I continue to stare up at him. “They studied that?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t they?” His tone is all the indicator I need to know that my question is slightly problematic.
“I just hadn’t imagined a werewolf guy taking time out of his full moon hours to go and jizz in a cup at some fertility clinic for science, that’s all. I mean, it’d be a pretty big sample size.”
I’ve always loved the sound of Van’s laugh, but there’s something particularly special about it in this form. Pressed to his chest as I am, the noise reverberates around me. “That’s not what happened.” There’s something in his voice that catches my attention, and I cock my head at him.
