Page 22 of Fate of the Fallen
I could only imagine how much she intended to spend‘preparing’.The woman certainly had a penchant for shopping.
When I leaned away and let my gaze sync with hers, I shook my head.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I insisted. “Our hands are already full. Besides, we’ve still got what … nearly seven or eight months to worry about all that?”
A perfectly arched brow quirked when I finished speaking, and then Elise’s reply only confused me.
“Seven or eight? Evangeline, you …”
She paused and studied my bewildered expression for a moment.
“I think it might be a good idea for me to share something with you. Something that might help you gain a better understanding,” she suggested.
I still wasn’t sure what about the comment grabbed her attention, but then she laid it all out on the table and, suddenly, it made sense.
Well … sort of.
“The gestation period for a lycan is nine months, but … you’re not just a lycan. You’re part dragon, too, so … the time could beslightlyshorter than what you may be thinking.”
A warm hand came down on top of mine and I stared at her.
“Wait … you said ‘could be’slightlyshorter, as in you’re not sure? And just how much shorter are we talking?” An abrupt, cynical laugh slipped out behind the question. Mostly, it was nerves.
“Well, I worded it this way because, quite frankly, by you being a hybrid … it could go either way. Only time will tell and it’s up to your body to decide,” she admitted, causing all expression to leave my face.
She took note of the look and went on to explain further. “If a female dragon has chosen to assimilate herself into a human community, she pretends to have been expecting much longer than her actual experience. It would be her only cover,” she added.
I got the feeling this was a stall tactic, Elise’s way of biding her time before having to lay the cold, hard truth on me.
“For instance,” she went on, “a woman in this situation may tell her close human friends she simply withheld the news of her pregnancy until it’s nearly over. Until she’s crested.”
I’d never heard the term used in this context, so I asked for clarity. “ … Crested? What’s that mean?”
Elise nodded and the slight hesitation in her tone wasn’t lost on me.
“Well, the literal definition that applies here is that it’s a peak. Like the top of a mountain, or wave,” she explained. “For you, should your body decide to follow the path of a dragon, cresting will be the peak of the pregnancy, the midway point. At which time it will no longer be possible to hide that you’re with child.” She paused to give me a moment to process it all before adding something else.
“It will also be the beginning of an intense bonding experience between you and your child, one only understood by another dragon,” After explaining, I watched as a distant smile graced her lips and her thoughts seemed to drift a bit, maybe recalling her own experiences.
“What’s it like?”
Dark, gentle eyes peered up when I asked.
“It’s beautiful,” she laughed—a light, girlish sound that matched her youthful appearance. “However, it can also be quite challenging …physically. With how quickly the child will begin to grow from this point, your body may find it difficult to cope at first, but that’s when it’s important to remember that many dragons before you endured the discomfort and survived. Becoming a mother will change you, Evangeline. In ways you could never even imagine. There’s something about needing to protect your child that brings out who you really are, what you’re truly made of.”
She paused and a warm smile followed.
I nodded, imagining that to be true, noting all the sacrifices she’d made for my brothers and I, the hard choices she’s made through the years. The weight of our conversation must have been why she steered it back toward our original path.
“But as I was saying, the reason female dragons wait until they’ve crested to reveal their condition to the outside world is to avoid raising red flags.”
I asked my question again. “How much shorter would it be for me if I …”
Elise gripped my hand just a little tighter when fear made the sentence trail off. Her attempt at soothing me might have worked had the answer she gave a moment later not been so starkly different from what I prepared for.
Seven months? Six maybe?
“You’ll be… It’s…” She stammered before finally blurting it. “Three months.”