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“A hormone that only shows up when semen has been spilled inside the womb. There’s a hormone caused by the one in your tongue that acts as a blocker to prevent conception. It quite literally forms a barrier against viable sperm. Now she has that hormone in her system because you’ve kissed, you’ve had intercourse.”
Of a sort, Anya thought sarcastically as she watched the doctor.
“It’s been eight months,” Anya pointed out. “I’ve never hurt like this before, Dr. Armani.”
“Because you’ve not been in contact with him,” she stated. “Your hormonal levels are showing steady. But I wasn’t looking for that additional hormone, as you weren’t having sex. Were you?”
“No,” Del-Rey growled.
Anya gave him a hooded look. Maybe if she bought him an instruction book. Surely he could learn more than doggie style if he saw the pictures? Of course, knowing male Breed training as she did, he probably knew all the moves. He just hadn’t practiced them on her.
“Okay, so, this hormone just dropped off the radar, but it wasn’t gone.”
“Meaning?”
Armani sighed as though they were dim-witted children. “So there was no addition to your hormonal therapy for it. You’re ovulating, and that hormone is building.”
“So?” Anya asked again. “How many months have you tracked ovulation with me, Dr. Armani? I’ve never hurt like this.”
“And your mate was never around to tempt you or to arouse you. I keep trying to beat it into you guys. Mating is not all about the physical. Emotions cause hormones and chemical reactions as well. Love, hate, anger, irritation, satisfaction—they all trigger separate chemicals within the body.”
“So I was angry.” Anya nodded.
“Pissed off, horny, ovulating and perhaps, Anya, you don’t hate your mate near as much as you once convinced yourself you did. Bam. That hormonal blocker is in place. But added to it is another hormone that also releases with it. One that tries to force the female to have intercourse, to get more seed, to break through that barrier. The Wolf Breed mates share that chemical barrier with the Coyote Breed mates. I hadn’t adjusted the hormone to allow for any change. Your hormonal levels were showing normal, because it takes more than a vaginal swab or blood to detect it. The test is much more in-depth and painful for the female; it requires actually penetrating the womb itself. That’s how it was found the first time. Dr. Serena Grace, she was there before Ely Morrey, found the differing chemicals and hormones and figured out how to adapt the hormonal treatments to that. But we weren’t able to get enough of that hormone until you submitted to those tests after you came here.”
“I didn’t hurt like this then,” Anya stated. “You’re not making sense.”
“Emotions are the difference, Anya,” she said, her voice gentle. “It’s not your hormones that are changing; it’s the chemicals released due to your emotions at any given time. I’ve adjusted your hormonal therapy for that additional chemical and hormone. This should prevent that pain from returning.” She handed the pressure syringe to Del-Rey. “Upper right arm, Del-Rey.”
He pushed the loose sleeve of her sweater back, his fingers going over the slight blemish on her skin where the syringe was used regularly.
“Next month, during ovulation, we’ll be on guard for this. Until then, we’ll need to step up the hormonal injections. Perhaps every few days.” Armani sighed deeply. “But damn, don’t scare me like that again.”
“Get a Coyote specialist,” Anya told her fiercely. “They might have answers you don’t.”
Dr. Armani shook her head. “I’ve looked, Anya. There are only a few that haven’t turned up dead, but they’re missing. Likely dead as well. I’m doing my best.” She shrugged heavily.
Anya thinned her lips. No, they weren’t all dead, but that didn’t mean she trusted Del-Rey to contact them. She would have to do this one herself. Because that pain was scary. And even scarier was Dr. Armani’s supposition that it was emotional changes causing it. Because Anya knew she only wished she could hate him.
CHAPTER 8
“My nails look so pretty.” Ashley sighed as she threw herself beside Anya on the couch in the community room and lifted her hands up for inspection three days later.
French-tipped, a brilliant stripe running diagonally across each of them through a rich, lustrous vermillion. They were pretty nice.
“Cute,” Anya stated as she flipped a page in the magazine she was pretending to read.
Ashley curled her legs under her and stared back at Anya.
“Get a haircut?” Anya asked her.
“Oh yeah.” Ashley flipped the shorter back and sides. “Alpha sprang for it. But I’m still six weeks without new shoes, video games or splurge money for the mall. That sucks. He’s being mean about cutting weeks off too. Remember, though, you can’t have that ceremony until after my punishment. I want to look really pretty for it.”
Anya had thought about that ceremony, though Del-Rey hadn’t mentioned it. Hell, she had even looked at dresses herself, as though it meant something to her.
“Hmm,” Anya muttered as she flipped another page.
“You’re horny,” Ashley whispered. “Alpha make you sleep with him last night?”
