Sitting on the large sofa, a heavy blanket draped over my shoulders, I'm trembling, and yet my body is on fire. Verando was the sensible one in times like these, he'd taken my drenched coat off and proceeded to towel off my hair as the water dripped, heavy droplets rolling down my nose and the back of my neck. The steady rain drummed against the large patio windows that would allow my husband his vices while we remained here. 

I struggled to envision how much hatred a group of protestors would have to have for someone to stand in such weather. With a heavy sniffle, I stare vacantly out the window into the gloomy town saturated by the downpour. Verando waits patiently for me, I disappear over and over again under the towel as he carefully works it through my thick hair, trying to piece together what Bastet had cursed me with.

I'd finally gotten confirmation, the last piece of the puzzle I needed to assure me there was something growing inside me. I count back the days, over and over in my head. We were nearing day 21, which meant if there was anything to see inside of me it would be there. Visible on an ultrasound, if it stayed that is. I'd just been in a fight, thrown about by a lycan on a rampage, supercharged by a deity. 

Instinctively my hand slides to my stomach, replaying every harsh blow and the surplus of magic coursing through my body. What if I'd done something that would bring this all crashing down once more? 

My lips part but nothing comes out, the coffee cup clutched so loosely in my hands threatens to topple over and he captures it to place on the coffee table. The light from the end table lamp reflected off every flake of silver in his startling icy eyes, he searches my face and I meet his gaze with a look of desperation. I needed him to tell me it was going to be okay, to not reveal the harsh realities of my situation, and assure me that we'd figure it out for the better. 

Unfortunately, my husband had never been one to favor the positive side of these situations.

"Bastet." I finally manage.

"Are you hurt?" Pushing my sleeve up, he lingers on the cuff and I try not to clue in on how disappointed he is that she hadn't taken it back. He was ever hopeful that we'd end this dance with the goddess, only now it was just beginning. I'd succeeded, I'd gotten what I'd always wanted, but at what cost? "Did she harm you?" 

She'd gutted me, cut me to the quick, and left me to bleed out. I exhale shakily, shaking my head numbly. "No. She-" Part of me wanted to hide this, to keep it myself and protect it from him. There was fear, uncontrollable fear, that he would want to terminate. "She said she was checking on her cuff. She said that it would appear the intervention was successful."

Staring at me, those same eyes I was so fond of growing frosty as he searches my face. My warlord was too calculated, too practiced, to bypass my subtle hint that we'd succeeded in making use of my alleged heat cycle. Reaching out quickly, I find his hands, terrified that he'd run from me, that he'd retaliate, yet now it would seem that it was his turn to fall uncomfortably silent. 

"Bastet wants us to be on the side of allowing the gods to remain on earth. She.. made valid points.. that immortals trapped in purgatory suffer a great deal. She said that a child, from you and I, might suffer a similar fate as Fenrir if the unicorn was not appropriately educated in fairness and if gods were once more to be banished." The words hurt even leaving my mouth, tainting something that should have been a blessing. 

Verando's teeth grind together, the tension builds in his jaw as he takes in every sentence. "So it's a trick, then. A ploy to get what she wants because that is what every 'gift' ends up being. There are no gifts Nic, there are only these horrid tricks with strings attached. You are going to be exactly where we are with Darrius with this-" What could he even call it? The hesitation hurts more than any wound, he didn't want to call it a baby or a child, he didn't consider it that. 

Letting go of his hands, I press my back into the couch, wrapping the blanket more tightly around myself as I feel the emotion welling up in my throat. "I don't care." I finally whisper. I couldn't think about that right now, I couldn't allow myself to slip because one falter and it would all be over. A single moment of weakness and I might give in, making an even bigger mistake and turning this dream into a nightmare. 

"I don't care." I declare once more.

My wolf meets me in my decision, I can feel the determination in the back of my mind, a beast protecting its young. It sided with me, we would protect this life. "Verando, you and I are no strangers to trials. If a trial is what it takes to get what I've wanted-" 

"If you die-" He tightens his jaw, "We have two other children to think about, Nic. If you die, I die."

"I'm immortal. You are immortal." I remind him starkly, gritting my teeth at the retaliation that he meets me with. We're locked into a battle of wills, me versus him as we glare at each other. "We have Adriam. We have so much technology at our disposal, I'm not giving this chance up."

He couldn't fight me, for he was as much at fault as I was. Verando was the first to access his wolf, he knew the power it held, the control it laid upon our emotions. Fighting off these 'heat cycles' was completely out of my control, the same as it was for him. We'd intended to use protection, but animalistic urges threw us beyond what two sane mortals would do. 

We weren't mortals, we were lycans, and I could handle this. 

Where I expect him to be enraged, I'm met with a heavy cloud of disappointment. The look he used to give me when we first met, bewilderment in the nativity of a youth. Shaking his head, he departs from me to move over to the patio, opening the door to light a cigarette. Dismissal, I was out of my mind and he wouldn't entertain me.

In an act of defiance, I hop up, following him, grabbing the pack and the lighter, and throwing it over the edge of the balcony. Crossing my arms over my chest, shrouded by the blanket, I meet the burning light gaze of my warlord with disappointment of my own. "You're not doing this. You're not shutting me out." I retort back to the hard expression that I know all too well. 

This wasn't acceptance, this was a blatant refusal as if dealing with me was more trouble than it was worth. I was upset and emotional, I needed more than his irritation with my alleged irrational behavior. 

"Are you finished?" He demands, his voice low, hard. 

"Possibly. Are you going to talk to me?" I question, keeping my tone calm, despite my blood boiling under my skin. "I'm not the villain here, I'm not trying to do this without you, I'm just trying to tell you what I'm feeling. I'm scared, Randy. I thought you said you'd be on my side." What I needed to hear from him was the truth, the admittance that he lied, or the resolution that he was trying to process in his own way. 

Whatever it was, I needed him, I struggle to keep the emotion under wraps and curse under my breath. The last thing I wanted was to guilt him, to make him agree because he hated seeing me cry. Shuddering at the drizzle blowing in through the open door, Verando catches my discomfort and slides the door closed with a heavy sigh. 

For what seems like hours, though it could only have been moments, he glowers into the depths of the stormy city with the expression he carried with him into many of our war rooms. "Immortality is a cruel mistress, you're relying too heavily on something that we don't understand. I'd be more willing if you didn't sound like a crazy person-" Hesitating, he spies the hurt on my face and curses under his breath. 

"I'm being an ass." He concludes with a frown, concern furrowing his brow, searching my face as he cautiously takes a step closer. Treating me like I'm a time bomb, unsure if I'm going to explode, I fear I'm going to crease his face with how worried he'd been for me this last year. Reaching up, letting the blanket slip from my arm, I carefully smooth out the line between his eyebrows with my thumb, before brushing the tangle of hair back and letting my hand come to rest on his cheek. 

"You are," I confirm, with a peace offering of a small smile. "But you love me."

"I love you so much, darling." He sighs, placing his hand over my own. "It's a personal conquest of mine to attempt to keep you from offing yourself, much as you seem to like to test the boundaries of what's possible. Full-time job, really. Must you take it out on my smokes, though?"

"Absolutely, you're quitting as of today. I've tolerated it long enough, you're smoking worse than ever before and you're becoming a walking vice. You're about to be a father, again, for the 10th time or whatever it is. It's about time you quit." Patting his chest, my stomach is doing acrobatics and I quickly tread over to hunt down a fork and stab my cinnamon roll. "I'm putting my foot down. No more cigarettes." Popping a hefty bite into my mouth, I sigh in satisfaction at the sweet taste.

While Verando seems appalled at my declaration, I'm met with my favorite look as he returns to me to take a sip of his coffee. "I was wondering when you'd begin to act like a housewife. Any other demands?"

Considering my desires, I take another bite, Verando takes a longing glance towards the window where I'd tossed his beloved cancer sticks and I feel a pang of guilt for my outburst. He'd deserved it, but I'd still caused him discomfort. "Is it hard to quit?"

Glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, he scoffs, running a hand through his hair. "Yes. But I'm an addict, a lot of things are difficult in that regard. I'll just have to find other ways to curb my cravings." Taking a finger full of the frosting off my cinnamon roll, he licks it off as his eyes meet mine, I catch my lower lip in my teeth with a hard swallow. 

Smirking devilishly, he seems to have shelved his concern in favor of getting along. For now, I could tolerate that, for I wasn't sure I could rationally discuss his morbid worries. Sitting on the barstool chair, I devour the sweet pastry, starved after the emotional encounter and an hour of shivering in my wet clothes. Verando departs to get me a new outfit, when he returns I admire the lycra form-fitting shirt and black athletic shorts. 

"You brought me dessert?" I comment, tilting my head as I admire the way the clothing clings to the hard plains of his body. How often did I get to truly admire him, the changes that'd come on since being inhabited by Fenrir rivaled the 'Alpha' of our first encounter. In fact, I'd dare to say he could be more fit than my blood-soaked warlord. Perhaps, just better fed. "You're giving me a complex. My lycan body hasn't come in yet."

With a scoff, Verando places the clothes on the counter, taking the blanket to casually fold it. "Sorry to disappoint you, love. If what you're saying is true, you won't be sporting your ideal body any time soon. As much as I'd love to roll around with you, I'm going stir-crazy and I've scheduled a session with Tomas. Would you like to come along?"  

The thought should disappoint me, but instead, I couldn't help but feel the flutter of excitement at his acknowledgment. I would be changing, growing a tiny being, inhaling sharply I try not to beam at him as he gestures for me to hurry up with my undressing. "Sure. I'd like to see you kick Tomas's ass."

Changing into my outfit, Verando hands me a jacket though I opt to grab one of his spares instead. The size was comforting and I found myself wanting to be encased in the fabric as he guides me out the back of the hotel to avoid the protestors. Climbing into the car, drenched by the rain, the scent of him is extraordinary as he closes the door. Rain mixed with the distinct scent of my warlord, nearly making my mouth water as my heart kicks into overdrive.

Shaking out his hair, he scrubs his hand through the darkened tangles as I pull my hood down and admire the way the soaked shirt clings to his form. I could spy the nipple piercings through the fabric, his eyes highlighted by the darkened locks, his sunkissed skin standing out against the pale fabric of the white lycra. "Randy-" I manage, getting his attention to grasp his face and bring him to me. 

Kissing him, pressing my lips to his as my body ignites and my fingers slip back to tangle in his hair. Verando chuckles against my lips, indulging me with a slow return that suggested I would not be getting my way. He must be desperate if he was turning down my favorite form of exercise, I shiver at the feeling of the tongue stud and retract slightly to brush my lips against his. "That piercing is so sexy," I murmur, ever hopeful. 

"Wait till you really feel it," he smirks, dimpling his cheek, turning on the car as I chase his lips. "I've been told it serves a unique purpose."

Flushing, I growl as I yank him back to me, my hand shooting down to grope him through his shorts and producing a rumble in his throat. "Don't tease me." I plead, "You smell incredible."

"Behave." He retorts roughly, breaking the kiss, but I'm satisfied to see I've successfully flustered him. The strain in his shorts brings me a grin of my own, Verando rolls his eyes at me though I spy a glimpse of the tongue stud as he runs his tongue over his teeth at my audacity. "Lude creature."

The drive is short, we travel to a small gym towards the edge of town, and to my knowledge, we weren't followed. I spy Rowan waiting for us outside under the awning, figuring Tomas had retreated inside to avoid the rain. Rowan, who looked like her mother and yet so much like her father. Her long legs, her slim nature of her, and her dominant yet controlled nature. She flashes us a warm smile, holding the door open as we hurry inside out of the rain. 

Tilting her head, she eyes her father's obvious jewelry in the newly soaked shirt before quickly averting her eyes to flush darkly. "Strange color choice." She comments, clearing her throat uncomfortably. "Did they not have clothes in a larger size?"

"I get hot." He shrugs, dismissive as he shoulders his duffle bag. 

"You're lucky he has clothes on at all." I sigh, we follow behind him as he makes his way into the main area of the gym, along side a octagon-shaped boxing ring. 

"Oh mah, Randal, it's true is it! Ya got yer nips pierced!" Tomas howls, chuckling with a large grin as he trots over from the other side of the ring. "My my, was it just for me that ya wore this little dress?"

"Keep talking Tomas, it gets me in the mood." He snaps back, pulling a bandage out of the bag to start the process of wrapping his hands. "I'd like to remind you, you broke my nose once and I never got to get you back for it."

Paling, the Irish man hesitates, "Oi, now Randal don' ya be sayin' that. Ya near killed me dead last time we fought. Now I know yer types are emotional and what have ya, but let's be gentlemen about this. It's just a spar I'm looking for."

As the two banter back and forth, I bury my nose into the collar of the jacket as I note Rowan's look of concern. "They're not going to hurt each other, are they?" She whispers, frowning as she crosses her arms over her chest. 

While I nearly conclude that they might, I gauge her genuine fear and swallow back my sarcasm, "Randy and Tomas are like brothers, if they're going to spar, I'm sure it will be more entertaining than it will be deadly." I'm glad I came, much as our conversation before this was tense. I needed to relax, stop worrying about the drugs, and focus on the fact that this would be one of the fleeting moments we'd get to actually spend time together. 

Verando climbs into the ring, it's an eerie flashback to the ranking wars back at my home, all those centuries ago. Shuddering, I find myself gravitating to Rowan for her warmth, if I hadn't had my world turned upside down by Bastet I might have found some entertainment in sparring myself. 

Rewriting old memories with new ones, and honing my skills for finding someone who could spar with a Lycan was a hard ask. A vampire could hold their own, surely, but against a demi-god... it might be questionable. 

Tomas holds up pads, protecting his hands, I admire the nimbleness of my warlord as the two go through warm-up exercises. The repair to his shoulder had held up wonderfully, his left was nearly on par with his right and I can't help but find amusement in the way Tomas seems to regret his decisions in sparring partners. 

"It's funny... I hardly remember him at all. But things like this bring back these glimpses of the past." Rowan brings me out of my musing and I blink back the shock. 

She'd hardly gotten to spend time with her actual father, as a child, and even now she spent most of her time with me trying to train me to use my magic. "You use to growl at people, especially when he would growl, it was very sweet." I attempt, receiving an odd look but she giggles all the same. 

My wolf cues in on a group of men watching the two spar, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Rowan seems immediately cued in, as we both eye the group making their way over. "Who are they?" I mumble. 

"No idea." She returns, keeping her voice low. 

Sniffing, I wrinkle my nose, unable to place the scent. 

"Be less obvious. Magic is illegal here." Rowan whispers, moving impossibly closer to me. 

They arrive ringside, watching the pair, the taller of the group clears his throat. "Lot of nerve coming in a place like this."  he comments, Verando doesn't glance over despite Tomas's distraction. He kicks the vampire in the side, making the Irish man curse and throw one of the hand guards at him. 

"Ya damn ass!" He snaps. 

"Hey. I'm talking to you, faggot." The slur makes me nearly choke. It was something we hadn't dealt with much since coming to the future. "It makes the actual men uncomfortable with someone like you in here. I don't like worrying about some prude looking at my ass when I'm trying to work out." 

Verando straightens, while Tomas looks appalled. "I beg your actual goddamn pardon?" Tomas snaps, taking a step while Verando extends his hand to stop him.

"It's quite alright, Tomas, everyone knows you're gayer than a fairy wedding.. no need to be embarrassed,"  Verando remarks calmly, earning an irritated scowl from the combatant. 

"I'm saying you need to get out of here. I'm not talking to your undead friend, I'm talking to you. This isn't a place for queers, so why don't you go to curves with the other ladies before I make you leave?" The man climbs up into the ring, I can't place his species, with my nose tracking the scent of every scrap of food in a 2-mile radius, picking up on this invalid was a struggle on its own. 

"Come on David, let's just go. You don't want to be on the news beating up a celebrity." One of the group grumbles. 

Considering this for a moment, Verando adjusts the wrapping on one of his hands. "Nah, mate, I quite like it here. But thanks for the offer, you really aren't my type so kindly piss off, yeah?" 

Tomas crosses his arms over his chest, "Yeah, he isn't into dick heads so piss off." 

David tongues his cheek, striding over to the pair, "Oh yeah? I'd say he is, I'd say he probably sucks a whole lot of dick. I have a problem with you staying, so what're you going to do about it? Kill me? It's all over the news, Psycho Mercer comes to town and you walk in here like it's nothing. You're not welcome here, not with your methods and not with the destruction you bring with you."

"You know, I am hungry." Verando retorts, I flinch, noting the change in tone. "You're starting to make me mad. So I'll say it again, piss off before I lose my sense of humor."

I climb up between the ropes as the two close the space, wedging between them and putting my hand on Verando's chest to stop him. "Alright, that's enough. We get it, you're disgusting, now leave before I call the police." Before I can stop him the man's fist balls in my shirt, lifting me off the ground.

"Out of the way, princess. I'm talking to your girlfriend-" I feel myself being shoved to the side and I'm unsure if it was Verando moving me or David pushing me, either way, the snarl makes my ears ring and my wolf stands at attention. 

Verando has the man by the wrist, arm twisted and the man scowls in discomfort, "Don't you dare touch him, less you want to see what your insides look like on the outside. Rumors are true darling, so I suggest you find someone else to fuck with. Or, become a sad article in the back of a newspaper. Your choice."

In a quick move, Tomas leaps over the ropes, grabbing two of the men while Rowan secures the third. David stares at him wide-eyed, flashing his teeth in an animalistic way, cueing in that this man wasn't mortal. 

With a sharp blow, he punches Verando in the stomach, yet the dull thud does little to move the warlord. "My turn." Verando uses the man's arm to jerk him in one full rotation, slinging him across the gym and sending him careening into a set of weights. Smashing the glass, and destroying the weight-lifting set, Verando's body vibrates as he struggles to control his breathing. I can see the chain steaming, and hear his heart pounding, quickly I move to put my hands on his chest. 

"Hey. It's alright, it's fine, I'm okay." I tell him quickly, wrapping my arms around him as if to hold him together. "He didn't hurt me."

"I know he didn't because I would have killed him if he had." Verando's voice is low, and harsh, eyes glued to David like a predator coming for the kill.

 Tomas shoves one of the men. "Collect your friend and get the hell out of here." He spits, before looking over his shoulder at Verando and me. "I'll clean this up, get out of here, the protestors are going to be all over it. "