Page 12 of The Monster's Wife

“I will kill you,” I assure her, raising an eyebrow.

“The quickening returned this year,” she muses as her hands disappear in a swell of black smoke. It’s strange, because fertility magic is normally a lightbringer gift. It’s unusual to see a shadowborn witch with it, but we all have our secrets in Haven, so I ignore it.

There’s also the fact she’s doing me a huge favor by even attempting to repair the price of my magical backlash.

I pushed my magic too hard and it fought back, or it could be the universe exacting its price for going against the laws of nature.

I’m not really sure.

I’ve paid my magic’s price several times over the years, but the damage I caused to my womb was the final time I pressed it.

I don’t regret saving my sister and her fledgling, but that day, I was reminded of the lesson that others don’t view my power as a gift.

I shake my head, willing away the pain that fills my chest when I think of home. Nothing gets solved by wallowing in pain and misery.

“Has it come normally?” Nadia asks, reminding me of her earlier statement.

Female fae experience a period of hyper fertility known as the quickening. We often build safe spaces called nests and fill them with soft fabrics and our chosen mates. There’s a whole lot of fucking and cuddling too.

It’s a very intimate time in a fae’s life. We surround ourselves with only those we trust, and our system releases pheromones that bond us more deeply to our partners.

If the quickening doesn’t end in conception, the fae experiences a week of bleeding similar to how human women have menstruation. A good mate will coddle and tend to their partner.

It’s very clear Atlas would be a loving and doting male to allow into my nest.

“Your quickening is coming regularly again, right?” Nadia prompts, drawing me out of my thoughts.

“It has. I mean, at least as regularly as before my injury.” I glance away from her prying eyes.

It’s hard to admit, but I feel like such a failure being unable to carry children. I have no control over it, and yet, it feels like a great inadequacy on my part.

Nadia pulls her hands away, shaking off her shadows before repeating the process a few more times. “Have you invited a certain almost eight-foot-tall orc to help you through it?”

I sigh heavily, letting my head fall back against the couch. I don’t talk about my injury with anyone. Years have passed, but it’s still very raw.

Acknowledging the issue makes it real.

Nadia isn’t asking as a nosy friend. I understand that she’s asking in a medical capacity, but I’m still so bitter over what I lost.

She doesn’t even want kids, but she could certainly have them if she wished, and it makes me unnaturally resentful. She’s a friend, who’s doing me a favor by trying to help. It makes me an asshole for feeling any jealousy toward her, but I can’t control it.

I don’t resent her truly.

It’s my circumstances that are making me bitter.

“Have you invited Atlas into your nest?” Nadia repeats.

“I haven’t. You know I can’t give him what he needs.” Eventually, his system will force him to choose a mate that can give him fledglings. It wouldn’t be fair to take that step when I know I’ll never be enough.

“Atlas may be half orc, but he’s also half giant. He might never experience rut.” Nadia frowns, sliding her hands over my ovaries. “I know we’ve talked about this before, but I’ve always believed your system is capable of healing itself.”

“If that’s true, then I would have done it ages ago,” I snap, then shake my head. “I’m sorry. Truly, I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” Nadia says, cutting me off. “But I don’t believe it’s a conscious choice.”

I give her a tight smile. “Fair enough.”

“Are we ignoring the fact that, the closer you grow to Atlas, the more your body seems to self-regulate healing itself?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “The quickening is a step in the right direction, especially after so many years of not making any progress.”

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