by P. Jameson
He glared at the box he’d given her so many Christmases ago. She thought he didn’t know about it, but he did. It once held a gift. The first one he ever gave her. Now it served as a reminder of their failures.
His failures.
Because it didn’t matter who’s fault it was that they couldn’t conceive, it was on him for letting her get away with hiding her feelings again. Did she even know what kind of pain he could feel through their bond? Did she realize she was as shitty at hiding hers as he was at hiding his?
His chest burned with it now, could she feel it?
She didn’t need to go through this alone. They could go through it together. Mourn when they needed to, make hard choices when they needed to. Let go when they needed to.
Together.
He lifted the lid off the box and his eyes landed on a new test. It had a purple cap, when all the others had blue or pink. Hands shaking, he picked it up and squinted at the tiny test window.
One line.
That meant no. Not pregnant.
Emotion battered him as he imagined all the times she’d hidden herself away in this bathroom, waiting for the results. Alone. Only to be disappointed.
He ground his jaw.
This would be the last time.
If she wanted to take tests to prove her cat’s instincts weren’t failing, she’d do it with him around.
Never alone again.
Collecting the box in his arms, he rushed from the bathroom down the hall.
“Layna.”
But he didn’t find her in the kitchen and all the lights had been turned off, so he doubled back to their bedroom.
He stopped in the doorway when he found her asleep on the bed, still clothed, on top of the covers. For a moment he just stared. Flour caked jeans and a holey t-shirt never looked so good. Because that was his whole world lying right there. Long hair piled up on her head in a messy bun. Cheek pressed to the pillow, mouth slightly open.
She was everything.
Always had been.
Nine years. Nothing had changed.
Easing forward, he set the box on the dresser and went to her side. He let his fingers graze her cheek and a soft whimper escaped. Carefully, he unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off, chucking them into the hamper.
Layna stirred and tried to her open her eyes.
“Shhh. Need to get you under the covers, mate.”
He maneuvered them free and drew them up to her chin before losing his own pants and shirt. He climbed in and pulled her against his chest where another whimper sounded from her throat followed by a soft snore.
In the dark, he pushed his love to her through their bond and faced down his biggest fear. The one that had haunted him since before they were together.
That he wasn’t enough for her. That he couldn’t fix all her problems, protect her well enough, make her happy enough. Be enough.
But like before when they faced a crossroads, lying just like this in a bed. When he’d used their bond to heal a grave injury their enemies had caused… just like back then, he wasn’t giving up. Not giving in to that fear. He was going to fight it back and prove himself all over again.
To her.
But most of all, to himself.
Chapter Three
“What’s there to talk about, Doc? Another month passed, another month my womb said no way, Jose.”
Layna sat in the chair across from Doctor Christina Davis’ desk. This was supposed to be a follow up appointment. She had one every month while they tried to work out what was wrong with her. But instead of bringing her back to the little exam room off of the side of Doc’s office, she had Layna sit at the desk.
To talk.
Like, about her feelings and shit.
As if Doc didn’t know her by now. As if Layna ever wanted to discuss how she felt.
The closest she’d ever come to spilling her emotions about her infertility was when the Sorcera Mirena was faced with the same problem. She’d tried to help the female through the tough time.
Layna didn’t like to think about that time. It was the last time she held a young in her womb only for her body to betray her a few days later.
That time had been especially hard because in the end Mirena got the young she desperately wanted. While Layna lost hers.
It wasn’t fair. But she knew life never made promises of fairness. Life only ever promised you years. Some people got many, others few. But fairness had nothing to do with it.
And she was happy for Mirena. It was one of the most fucked up things to be both bitterly jealous and ecstatic for someone at the very same time.
The feeling had repeated itself again and again as her clan family grew.
And now they were here.
Layna sighed as Doc stared her down from across the desk. The female’s straight blond hair was slicked back into a ponytail and her dark rimmed glasses slipped down her nose so that she had to look over them to see Layna.
“Let’s start with how you’re feeling. Any new symptoms? Cramping, headaches, nausea?”
Layna was already shaking her head. “No, no, and no.”
Doc frowned. “You seem extra frustrated today. Did something happen?” Her tone changed from doctor to friend, and suddenly Layna felt like she was just catting with her longtime companion.
She and Doc were the original Ouachita females. The ones who took a vow to never mate. Luckily things had changed for their clan.
Still, she didn’t want to talk about what had happened this morning.
She woke before Ryan and eased out of bed so he wouldn’t stir. She planned to get to the lodge and start work before he could ask her any questions about yesterday. But everything took a tumble when she saw the gift box on the dresser. The one she thought she’d hidden behind the shampoo bottles. The one she’d kept from him.
She’d never showered and dressed so fast in her life, but she managed to leave before his alarm went off and hadn’t seen him since.
Hiding from her mate.
What a piece of shit she was.
Guilt chewed her to pieces like it always did. Made her stomach knot into so many tangles she didn’t know how to pick through all of it. Guilt for not being perfect, guilt for being too hard, guilt for running away when she promised she’d never do it again.
But if anyone could see inside her, could see how bad she hurt…
“I’m just tired of this, Doc,” her voice cracked as she admitted the truth to her friend, and she was horrified when her vision blurred from the tears filling her lids.
She swallowed hard, trying to clamp down the emotion.
“I know you are,” Doc said carefully. “I see how this is chipping away at you. And Ryan too.”
Another thread of guilt wound itself around Layna’s heart.
Ryan. Her human. Her everything.
Maybe waiting until after the holidays was wrong. Maybe she needed to let him go now.
Despair battered her ribcage.
“Doc…” A sob ripped from her throat. “I can’t… I can’t…”
Doc was out of her chair and around the desk, kneeling beside Layna before she could come up with words to explain. But Doc didn’t try to hug her. She knew it wouldn’t help.
Doc knew her. Maybe better than most.
“I know,” she whispered. “I know, friend. It’s hard.”
Layna stopped fighting the tears—it was useless anyway—and just let them roll over her cheeks like little waterfalls to crash on her hands where they twisted in her lap.
“I can’t be a good mate like this. I can’t do right by him. I’m supposed to give him cubs. Supposed to make him a daddy. If anyone should be a daddy, it’s Ryan. God. You see that, right?” The words tumbled from her lips, finally making their way out into the open. It was both a relief and a brand new burden. “It’s wrong, Doc. I’m wrong. So wrong for him. And I don’t know how to let him go.”
“Fuck that,” was Doc’s sharp response, and it stopped Layna sh
ort. “Fuck that real hard. It’s not the answer here.”
“Then what is?” Layna’s voice went screechy with frustration. But if anyone could take her losing her shit, it was Doc. “It’s not like I haven’t been over it a million times. What else can I do? Tell me.”
“Layna. You weren’t made to give him cubs. That’s your raising coming back to bite you in the ass. It’s the old way of thinking. Ouachita doesn’t play that way, and you know it.”
It was true. Feline females of old were used to bear cubs. Proved their usefulness in that way. One like her would be cast out of the clan. Not tolerated.
But the Ouachita clan wanted more for their females. They were a haven for those who needed it, and a family for those who wanted it. A haven their leader, Magic, committed to after the death of his first mate. One by one, love story by love story, they changed the future for their kind.
So why did her instinct make her feel all those old feelings of worthlessness?
“I know what you’re saying is true, but I can’t help how I feel about this. I feel like I’m letting down the person I love most in the world. How do I move past that? And Doc, I… I just don’t think I can keep this up. I can’t keep trying and hoping. And… and… fucking losing.”
“It’s not a battle, Layna,” she said more gently. “You don’t have to fight.”
Layna swiped at her tears. She wanted them gone. But more came in their place.
“You want a family? Then make one.”
“Goddamn it, Doc, I’m trying.”
Doc shook her head. “No, I mean… stop trying. Make one.”
Layna stared, wondering if Doc had lost a marble or two in recent days. She had her own little one now, and they were facing down the Terrible Twos.
“Maybe you can’t have a family like this. From your own blood. Maybe it’s not going to happen like that. But it doesn’t mean you can’t have one of your own choosing.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A baby to raise. You and Ryan, together. A baby of your own but not from your body.”
“How?”
Doc lifted one eyebrow and it brought the corner of her mouth along with it. “Adoption.”
The word made everything inside Layna go still. Adoption. Was that possible for a shifter?
“Adopt a human?”
“Sure,” Doc shrugged. “Why not. You mated one. And who would take better care of a little human baby than this clan? Than you and your mate? No one. That’s who.”
Adoption. Giving her heart and home to a baby that wasn’t made from her. Was that something her mate would want?
Was it something she wanted?
Inside, her animal was confused. A baby for mate? For us?
Adoption. Her heart was big enough for that. She knew it. Knew it.
More than big enough. It was hollow in one whole corner where there should be young. It didn’t matter how she filled it. Just that she did.
Something started unfurling in Layna’s chest. Something very little. A tiny bud, nothing more. But it was hope. Hope that maybe there was another way to have a family with Ryan.
The same hope she’d held inside, over and over.
And what good had it done then?
Wait, her cougar whimpered.
But Layna straightened her shoulders and brushed the remaining tears from her cheeks.
No more. She couldn’t do this anymore. Not again. The back and forth. The wishing and the wilting. The fear, the shame, the hurt.
It had to end.
And she had to be strong enough to make it end.
“Thank you, Doc.” She stood from the chair, forcing Doc to rise with her. “You’ve done your best here. I know that. It’s time for me to make the hard choices now.”
Doc frowned. “Think about what I said, okay?”
Layna gave Doc a half-hearted nod while her animal pawed its agreement more soundly. She stepped to the little sink in the corner of the office and splashed water on her face, taking her time to dry it carefully before glancing in the tiny mirror.
Her eyes shone glassy, but her expression was dull. Was this what she looked like these days? Burnt. Done. Sad. What happened to the happy, snarky lioness she used to be?
Broken. It was broken and fading.
But maybe doing the right thing by her mate would heal it. A little.
Was there such a thing as healing broken? Like an unset bone, right? That’s what she’d be.
But it didn’t matter. It was time to think of Ryan. He was the best thing to ever happen to her. If she couldn’t give him a family, she would give him freedom.
Even if he didn’t want it.
She turned back to find Doc holding out a prescription sheet, freshly signed. One eyebrow raised above her glasses as she said, “Fill this immediately.”
Layna rolled her eyes, already knowing what she’d read on the sheet. Doc was famous for doling out a certain prescription when she disagreed with whatever you were thinking. It was her silent opposition. A way of stating her opinion on matters when she wasn’t asked.
Layna sighed, holding the script in front of her face to block out Doc’s pursed lips, and read:
FUQDAT (Extra Strength) 300mg
Take as often as needed.
Refill x10
Christina Davis, MD
Chapter Four
Ryan pumped the barbell one more time before finally acknowledging his best friend’s voice as it barked across the lodge’s small gym for the third time.
“I saaaaid…” Mason Miller’s snarky drawl boomed. “…who in this room wants to watch yoga time with me?”
Since Ryan was the only one in the room, it was obvious he was supposed to answer. But he didn’t want to talk to anybody, and he especially didn’t want to watch yoga time.
Yoga time. It was when the females of the clan met weekly for group yoga in the lodge’s spa. The guys liked to watch. Because it was fucking hot learning new ways your mate’s body could bend.
But the last thing Ryan needed was to see his pretty Layna twisting and contorting in sexy ways. Because he wanted her. Bad. Without the thermometer and fertility charts and expectations. Without the sadness. The anxiety.
He just wanted her.
He was so hungry for the deep emotional shit they used to have, that he’d rather starve himself of sex altogether than to plan it to the nth degree one more fucking time.
Briefly, he wondered if he really could fuck some sense into her like he’d threatened to yesterday. It had worked all those years ago when they first bonded.
Doc had advised him to get her animal’s attention by treating her like a werecat would. It had seemed like a bad idea since they both abhorred the way male werecats viewed mating. But he’d listened. He’d demanded things of his mate. Demanded she respect him. Made her confront her fears about their relationship.
And it worked.
Maybe it was time to think like a cat again.
“Yes,” Mason said. He stood next to the weight bench, arms crossed over his chest, staring down at Ryan.
They’d been friends since Ryan first stepped foot on Ouachita land, but damn, had they been through some shit. Especially Mason. The were-cougar knew a thing or two about hiding his truth. If anyone knew how to handle Layna, maybe it was him.
The thought made Ryan scowl. He wanted to be the one to fix all her problems.
“Yes, but sometimes only the best fixer can fix things.” Mason sighed, looking pleased with himself.
Ryan stood and wiped his face down with a towel. “Stop that shit.”
He hated when Mason could sense what he was thinking. It was damn annoying. But the cat had gone through a lot to become the clan’s Elder. And as such, he was their official advisor on all things catty. Rules and orders and futures. Those were Mason’s specialties now.
The male frowned. “That’s true. And a touch ironic, I’m thinkin’. Because I like breaking rules more than I like making ‘em.”
“It is rude, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I used to hate it when Destiny pulled that shit on me. Remember back then?”
Ryan remembered. Destiny, an Elder for the Dirt Track Dogs pack, helped Mason bring the Ouachita clan into the twenty first century. As far as mating was concerned anyway. She’d done a lot for their people. But she pulled the same brain invasion Mason was doing now.
“Damn,” Mason breathed, “them were the days. Am I right?”
“You always are, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Ryan smirked. In the mirrored wall, he caught sight of the claw mark scar on his shoulder. Mason had marked him years ago, to let him know he was part of the clan, even though he was human. That he belonged here. That he was meant for Layna.
Sometimes he looked at that mark to remind him it was true.
“And since I’m right a lot, I figured I’d mosey on in here and set you straight. Again. You’re welcome very much.”
“Fuck you very much,” Ryan shot back.
“No thank you. It would make Sunshine jealous.”
Ryan blinked at how awful that comeback was.
Adira the Lightest, or Sunshine, as Mason liked to call her, was a Sorcera who helped save the clan so many years ago. She also happened to be Mason’s mate and Ouachita’s only other Elder.
“Your losing your edge, Mason.”
“Not true.”
Ryan shook his head, giving his friend a half-hearted chuckle as he tossed his towel in the hamper.
“Fatherhood making you soft.”
“No regrets,” Mason said, losing the humor from his tone. “No regrets, my man.”
“I know.”
Ryan would trade whatever edge he had for fatherhood too. In a blink. With zero fucking regrets.
“It’s your time, Ry.”
Ryan shook his head and started for the showers. But Mason’s grip on his arm stopped him from leaving.
Grudgingly, he met the werecat’s gaze. His expression was more serious than Ryan had seen it in a very long time, and he knew Mason had something for him.
