#monster mate

The remnants of the harvest feast still lingered in the air, mingling with the crisp scent of pine from the freshly cut tree standing proudly in the corner of the living room. You smiled as you moved the rest of the leftovers in the fridge.

Your heart full from the warmth of the recent celebration. Your werewolf mate had embraced the feast with enthusiasm, enjoying every moment of the human traditions.

Your mate, however, was not as at ease as he appeared. As he watched you hum a holiday tune while tidying up, his mind was elsewhere. The human winter holiday of Christmas was approaching, and with it, the full moon. The werewolf rituals of the winter solstice were deeply significant to him, but he feared they would clash with your Christmas traditions.

This was the first time celebrating during the winter solstice together. He knew how much this time meant to you, but there was also no way he could abandon his way of honoring. He didn’t want to spend the holiday apart, but it may have to be that way. 

He paced near the fireplace, glancing at the calendar that was marked December 25th with a bright, festive sticker. His brow furrowed slightly as he tried to find the right words. How could he bring up his concerns without dampening your holiday spirit?

He walked over to you and gave you a loving kiss on the forehead before he stalked outside and ran into the woods. Running through the forest was how he cleared his mind. The cold winter air assaulted his lung as he raced between the trees and into the meadow. He sat in his special spot and tried to come up with a solution to his current predicament. 

After what felt like hours of listening to the snowy wind, your werewolf mate gets up and slowly starts walking back to your shared cottage. He decided whatever made you happy is what he was going to do. If he had to miss out on the winter solstice rituals for one year, it wouldn’t kill him. You were his life now and he wanted to show you that. 

You sat on the couch reading a book while sipping some warm tea while waiting for your mate to return. You knew sometimes he needed to get out. Sometimes he just needed to let the beast side of him be free. You didn’t mind, you thought it was hot and respectful. You hear the familiar sound of massive paw pads stepping onto the back porch and smile to yourself. 

“Feel better, love?”, you asked while sipping your tea.

Your mate stood there in the doorway of the living room, watching you for a moment. 

Taking a deep breath, he finally spoke.

"My mate…”, he began softly, "the harvest feast was wonderful, and I'm looking forward to this Christmas with you, but there's something I need to discuss with you about our plans”.

“What is it?”, you turned to him with a curious and loving expression on your face.

He hesitated for a moment, then continued, "my winter solstice celebration goes on the same time as Christmas, and it's a very important time for me to perform my moon rituals. I was worried about how we could celebrate both our traditions together. I figured we just might not be able to do that so I wanted to let you know that we can celebrate anything you want. I just want you to be happy."

Your eyes softened with understanding, and you took his hand in yours.

"My love, we'll find a way to make it work. Just like we’ve done with everything else. We'll create new traditions that blend both our worlds."

Relief washed over him as he realized you both were in this together, ready to face the challenge with open hearts and mutual respect.

******

Snowflakes fell gracefully in the crisp December air, blanketing the small town in a shimmering coat of white. It was such a beautiful and peaceful scene. Inside the cozy cabin, twinkling lights adorned the Christmas tree, casting a warm, festive glow. 

You stood by the window, gazing out at the winter wonderland, your heart swelling with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. This Christmas was going to be special.

You glanced over at the calendar, where you had marked the days leading up to Christmas with bright, cheerful stickers. For you, Christmas had always been a time of joy, tradition, and togetherness. You turned to look at your werewolf mate. He was meticulously arranging candles and crystals on a small altar by the fireplace.

These rituals were an essential part of who he was, deeply rooted in his werewolf heritage. The winter solstice, marked by the full moon, held profound significance for him. It was a time to honor his ancestors and connect with the natural world. You were hopeful about what you both had planned together for the big day. You leave him to his work and go make some hot chocolate. 

*******

The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the snow covered branches, casting a serene light on you as you sat outside, enveloped in the tranquility of Christmas Eve. You both had found a beautiful compromise. 

As the snow fell gently around you, you and your mate talked and laughed as you waited for midnight to perform the ritual. You wrapped your cloak around you tighter and snuggled up to the warm bundle of fur next to you. 

You leaned against your werewolf, your eyelids growing heavy with the peace of the evening. With a tender smile, he held you close, his heart swelling with the quiet contentment of having you by his side tonight.

Midnight had approached, but you succumbed to sleep in his comforting embrace. Your mate gazed at you, the soft rise and fall of your breathing a soothing rhythm against the stillness of the night. He leaned slightly and performed his ritual on the insignia you helped him make. He sat there afterwards, his heart filled with so much love for you. He held you close while he enjoyed the moment just a little bit longer. 

Eventually and carefully, he lifted and carried back to the warmth of the cottage. After putting you to bed, he made sure to put a couple extra logs on the fire. After that, he walked through the cottage and made sure all the presents were put out before sneaking back into bed with you.

Morning came and you awoke to heavenly smell. You realized you were alone in bed. You got out of bed and wrapped a blanket around you when you realized it was Christmas morning. You rushed into the living room and the sight you saw left you speechless. 

Your werewolf husband had woken up early and made breakfast with the special seasonal coffee you like. He walked into the living room from the kitchen wearing his Christmas printed pajama pants holding two mugs of coffee. You looked at him, in your overly decorated home, and smiled brightly. What a perfect sight for Christmas morning.

Next was the joy of exchanging gifts. Laughter filled the air as you both unwrapped tokens of love and thoughtfulness. The day continued with a grand feast, a delightful blend of foods from both traditions, each bite a symbol of your united front. You both enjoyed a day of being merry and lazy together. 

Later, as the stars began to twinkle in the evening sky, your werewolf mate led you outside once more. He escorted you back to the spot in the meadow. You said you wanted to learn more about the rituals and he agreed. Once you sat down, your mate handed you something small wrapped in some leather. 

You opened it and gasped at what you saw. You held up the gorgeous necklace to get a better look at the gem inside. It was a beautiful moonstone crystal that had a hint of green to it. You marveled at it, speechless. 

“I chose the green hued one because it reminded me of the night we met. Here in the forest under the moonlight. I thank the goddess everyday for that chance encounter”, he whispered to you, bringing you in a tight embrace.

As the night continued on, he showed you the ancient winter solstice moon ritual. Your fingers intertwined around the gemstone necklace that sparkled in the moonlight. Together, you both performed the ritual, your eyes wide with wonder and appreciation for his culture.

In that moment, under the vast expanse of the winter sky, you and your mate found perfect harmony. The first Christmas together was more than a celebration. It was a testament to the love and beauty of embracing each other's traditions.

Admittedly, his presence wasn’t all positives. He ate a lot, mostly raw meat, and despite being able to talk, he often just resorted to grunts, chitters, and bodily shoving me in the direction he wanted me to go. If he decided he no longer wanted me to work that day, there was very little I could do about it. He would lie on top of me and I would be stuck.

That wasn’t usually common, but in the past few weeks, he had abruptly become much more stubborn about me doing pretty much anything.

“Is there something wrong with you?” I asked as he bodily blocked me from leaving the camp once more. “I need to go out at some point.”

He grunted and gave me a severe look with his solid green eyes. “No. Need to rest.”

“I’m not sick,” I told him. “I was vaguely nauseous two times last week, and it went away. Probably ate something bad. It’s happened a bunch of times and you’ve never been so fussy about it before.”

He reared out of his crouched position so he was towering over me, then crouched and nuzzled his face into the side of my neck. His tongue flicked against my skin. “Smell different,” he said.

I lifted his face out of my neck. “I smell different.”

He nodded. Without any further elaboration, he nudged me toward the tent again. “Go.”

There was no arguing with him. Huffing, I headed back to the tent and lay down. He fussed over me for a moment, making sure I was tucked in and warm, then loped off to check the traps for me.

Admittedly, I had been feeling slightly off recently. The nausea wasn’t anything too extraordinary; I was careful about washing food and boiling water, but sometimes a bug slipped through. What was odd was a persistent heaviness that hung over me like a weighted blanket. It was hard to get out of bed in the morning (well, harder than usual), and dragging myself through my chores felt more difficult than it ever had before, even when first starting out.

I didn’t even realize I was falling asleep until the return of my mate woke you. He slipped into the tent, carefully stepped over me, and nuzzled at my neck. I grunted. “Hey.”

“Eat.” He nudged me and I realized that he was holding a dead rabbit. It was pretty bloodless, but I pushed him toward the entrance of the tent regardless.

“Not in the tent,” I grunted. With a sigh, I pushed myself up. Despite the nap, that heaviness was still resting on my bones. He acquiesced to my demands, crawling out of the tent, and I followed him. The fire was guttering, so I marched over and poked at it.

He followed me. “Eat.”

“I’ll get something to eat,” I muttered. He nudged me with the rabbit. “We need to skin that first.” He never really caught on with needing to prep animals before eating them. He made a quiet rumbling noise in his chest.

The fire finally got back to a high enough level and I brushed the dirt off your hands. “Now. Uh, I think there’s some rabbit steaks I’ve been keeping, and they’re not going to be good much longer, so we can heat those up-”

My voice trailed off as your eyes landed on the rabbit he’d all but dropped on you. There was a red ring around its neck, dried blood crusting in its fur. Generally, I didn’t love the process of skinning and prepping the animals you killed. It was necessary, but it usually turned my stomach. Now, though… looking at that ring of red was making my mouth water. I was hungry. And the idea of sinking my teeth into that rabbit’s skin and gulping down massive chunks of rich, juicy, bloody meat…

It took me a moment to realize the rabbit was in my hand and halfway to my mouth. Another moment before I realized that I was drooling.

Fuck. I dropped the rabbit. It hit the dirt. Usually I’d be scrambling to grab it and clean it back off, but I didn’t trust myself to touch it again. I’d snapped out of it, but I could feel that hunger still in the back of my mind. The rabbit still looked good.

Something nudged my shoulder. I jumped. My mate leaned over me, offering me some cured meat in the palm of his hand. “Thanks,” I said as he grabbed the rabbit and took it for preparation. I chewed on one of the piece of jerky. It felt irritatingly gummy and dry in my mouth. Only pangs of hunger kept me eating it, and even then, it was unappealing.

My mate slouched back over and curled up next to me. His chin rested on my thigh. I ran my fingers through his hair, letting the inky black strands coil around my fingers. He nuzzled into my hand, a slow sigh escaping him. Warmth radiated from him, fending off the chilly night air. With a deep breath, I let my worries slump away. There was no point worrying. If there was anything surviving in the wilderness had taught me, it was to live in the moment. It was all we had.

That mentality lasted approximately one month, at least to my estimation. It was hard to tell the time, but keeping track of the lunar cycle at least gave me a general idea. The tiredness hadn’t lessened- if anything, it was getting worse. The nausea had faded, for the most part, though it would spike at the most random of things, from the smell of cooking meat to rotting leaves. The weird cravings kept coming back- I still managed to get all my meat cooked before eating it, but I always wanted to eat it unsettlingly rare.

My mate, apparently sensing my near-perpetual discomfort, clung to my side like moss. He curled around me, nipping and licking at my neck and face. When I went out to check my traps or tend to my garden or clean some of my carcasses, he would be there, laying his body against mine. He spoke less, but I could feel the anxiety hovering around him like a cloud. He seemed to constantly want to press close to me, and was only reassured he could see or feel me.

“What’s gotten into you?” I asked as he crawled halfway onto my lap. His head rested against my stomach, his ribs digging into my knee. He just sighed and nestled up against me.

“Protect you,” he murmured. “Protect our pack.” He rubbed his cheek against my stomach.

As he pressed himself against my stomach, a vague notion occurred to me. I didn’t look at your body all that much, not having a mirror or any real reason to examine myself closely. But I was aware that I was pretty thin, with very little in the way of fat- the starvation diet had shredded away any extra weight I’d once carried, and physical labor had kept it off. And yet, as my mate nuzzled against my stomach, I became aware that your middle was poking out a little. Now that I was paying attention, it looked a little incongruous against my skinny frame.

I stood, knocking my mate to the ground. He grumbled irritably, peering up at me as I prodded at my stomach. I had gained weight, but only in my stomach. That was odd- usually I gained weight in my legs and hips first. Then again, I had been eating more often- maybe I were bloated or-

An errant thought flitted across my mind and my blood ran cold. Impossible. That couldn’t be right. Yes, I’d been nauseated and tired, but wouldn’t it make more sense if I was sick? Maybe I’d eaten something bad? But it had been going on for a while. Perhaps too long for it to be a simple illness.

No. I couldn’t be. Certainly, I hadn’t had a period, but that had been spotty since I’d been on your own. Losing weight like I had usually stopped periods.

Except. I had gotten it a couple times. Almost six or seven months ago, I’d started bleeding again. My mate had fussed and cooed and been incredibly eager to pull me into the tent for some… intensive cuddling. Then, after a couple of months, it had stopped and I’d paid it no more mind.

Maybe I should have paid it a little more mind. Because there was no reason for it to have stopped. I hadn’t lost any weight and I’d been healthier than ever. The only reason it would have stopped is-

My blood had already run cold, but it was now ice in my veins.

My mate’s grumbling brought me back. He stood up to his full height and looked down into my face. He cocked his head to one side. “Are you alright?” His voice was soft, full of concern. I shook my head a little and his anxious rumbling grew louder.

When I didn’t move or respond to him anymore, he took my hand and tugged me back over to the tent. As soon as we were inside, he piled the blankets on top of me and nestled up close. He rumbled, solid green eyes fixed on me unblinkingly. I got the sense he was waiting for me to say something.

I licked your lips and took in a slow breath. My hands rested automatically on my stomach, mapping the surface. There was definitely a distinct bump. It still could be something else. A parasite, or illness. But those were far less likely than the most obvious reason, one that it would be useless to completely deny.

“Am I… pregnant?” I asked. My mate peered at me for a long moment. His head lifted, his strange chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths.

“Our child,” he murmured finally. He lowered his head to nuzzle against my stomach for a moment, then lifted his head again. “You bear the beginning of our pack.”

I swallowed hard. The coil of sickness in my stomach this time was from anxiety, not morning sickness. Pregnant. I hadn’t even considered it, not even when I’d been having sex with him. Why would I assume I could have children with him? But he had called me his mate. It made sense that he would want children with me. For some reason, I’d just never considered it as a possibility.

Sensing my discomfort, my mate nestled closer to my side. His warm breath tickled against my cheek and his arms wrapped around my waist, holding you close against him. “Safe,” he crooned into my hair. “You are safe here. I will protect you and our baby.”

“How long?” I asked. I had a guess, but I wanted to be sure. “How long have you known?”

He looked at me silently for a long moment. For a while, it had been hard to read his expressions. His solid green eyes made it hard to follow his gaze, and he was generally inexpressive. But I had enough practice to tell that he was concerned and a little confused. Had he thought I was aware?

“Several cycles,” he said finally. It hadn’t taken him long to adapt to my system of measuring time by the cycle of the moon. He never referred to them as ‘months’ though, always ‘cycles.’ He traced out five lines with his claws. “This many.”

“Five months,” I said. Or at least close to that. I folded your hands over my stomach. Five months and I’d had no idea. How long could I have gone without figuring it out?

My mate leaned closer, giving my face little kitten-licks and nuzzling his forehead against my cheek. “Unaware?” he asked, placing one of his hands over my stomach.

“I didn’t know,” I said. Whatever way he had of sensing that I was pregnant was totally lost on me. “How did you know?”

“Scent,” he said immediately. “Smell different. Good. But different.” He blinked at me, studying my face closely. “Thought you would smell it.”

“I don’t think humans have as strong a sense of smell as you do,” I said. My mate shifted his position again so that he was lying protectively over me.

“Was concerned,” he admitted, resting his head close to mine. “You were not nesting.”

“Nesting?” I repeated. He nodded. His antlers scraped against the bedding and he paused to ensure they weren’t going to catch on anything.

“I hunt and protect you,” he said. “You prepare for the baby. Create nest. Stay safe. Better for you and the baby.” He nuzzled at me more, making little crooning noises. “I care for you.”

“It makes me anxious to stop working like that,” I said. “Winter’s so close. We need to prepare.”

He licked my cheek, then returned to little kisses and nibbles. “I will care for you. You must rest.” He sat up a little so I could look into his face again. His expression was serious. “Our pack is precious. You are precious. You need to rest.” He lay back down and pulled me against him. My head fitted into the crook of his neck. I could feel the bare bones of his ribcage, the plant life curling delicately out of him. And the heaviness- it was so much. Wouldn’t it be nice to rest?

“Okay,” I murmured into his neck. “I’ll take a break.”

He said nothing more, but I felt the rumble of contentment that ran through him. His arms tightened around me, then relaxed. I felt him settle into sleep, still holding me against him as if I were something precious.

I rested my hands on my stomach. It felt no different than it had that morning, but my entire perspective had changed. There was a baby inside me. My baby. His baby. A child.

I had sort of wanted to be a mother someday. Before the end of the world, it had always been part of my eventual plans. But once the world had ended, I’d had bigger things to worry about. It had, more or less, been something I’d forgotten about, given up on. And now, without even trying or expecting, it had crept up on me.

I didn’t even realize that I were crying until my mate leaned up, woken from sleep, and began lapping at the salt on my cheek. He rumbled low in his chest, making soothing noises. His hands spanned my waist, tucking me securely against him. I leaned into his touch and into the waves of emotion that wracked my body. Joy and fear and sorrow and hope, all clashing painfully, swelling until my emotions strained against the edges of my being. My mate simply held me and crooned into my hair until my exhaustion overwhelmed my emotions and I fell into an uneasy sleep.

My mate hung around me for the next few days. He was reluctant to leave my side even to check the traps, but seemed even more unwilling to let me leave the camp. I made a couple token efforts to dismiss his worry, but really, I was glad to have him around. The idea of being pregnant kept hitting me over the head, stunning you at the worst moments. It was like I would forget it for a few minutes, then discover it all over again and go through those same complicated emotions. Having my mate near you helped steady me.

Gradually, I adjusted to the idea of being pregnant. It never stopped being strange, but the idea settled in my brain and it became just another part of my life. More of my time was spent in the camp, sometimes tending the garden or prepping food for the winter. My mate spent more time shoring up the camp’s barriers, and marked numerous trees with gouges from his claws. When he wasn’t hunting or reinforcing the boundaries, he was curled around me, nuzzling me protectively and cooing.

It was a month later when the restlessness started. My stomach was definitely starting to protrude- if I hadn’t figured out when I did, the change in my frame certainly would have tipped me off. The shift in my center of gravity made it more difficult to move, but something in the back of my mind needled at me to walk around, rearrange things. No matter how much I shifted my blankets, rearranged my food stores, even tore down and reset the tent, the nagging feeling that something was wrong wouldn’t leave.

That feeling was what drove me to go back into town. I hadn’t been in months. Generally, I tried to go sparingly. Areas that were previously civilized tended to house all kinds of monsters, and the risks often outweighed the potential rewards. But there was no denying that going to the town was becoming necessary. Not only did I feel I needed to look for something, but there were more practical concerns. If I was going to give birth, I needed medical supplies, more than the stuff I already had.

Unsurprisingly, my mate was not pleased by my decision.

“I will go. You stay,” he grumbled as I finished sliding some traveling food into my bag and swung it up onto my shoulders.

“No. You don’t know what you’re looking for.” He could speak English, but teaching him reading had been a slow go, and I wasn’t sure how much he knew about human medicine anyway. Admittedly, I wasn’t sure what I would need to give birth either, but I felt more confident in my abilities than his.

He rumbled in his chest. “Unsafe. You must stay here.” Despite his words, his tone wasn’t forceful. Apparently, he wasn’t very confident he was going to be able to convince me.

“I’m going. You can come with, or stay.” I shrugged. He rumbled again, but walked up to my side.

“With you,” he said. “Obviously.” Given the solid coloring of his eyes, it was hard to tell when he was rolling them, but I were pretty sure he was doing so.

“Great. Then let’s go- hey!” Before I could finish my sentence, he had swept me up in his arms. I was pressed against the curve of his ribcage, the little plants there tickling my skin. He rubbed his cheek against my forehead and made a purring noise.

“Faster. And safer,” he said. He gave a small lick to my forehead, then crouched and sprang. With a loping, bounding gait, he took off in the direction of the town.

Being carried was never the most comfortable experience for me, but now it was just exacerbating your nausea. It only took about fifteen minutes before I were scrambling to get down. He hovered nearby, crooning and stroking my back as I retched into some bushes.

His pace slowed considerably after that, but that meant we didn’t get to town until late in the afternoon. Our main goal, the pharmacy, was toward the middle of town, but I was reluctant to go into the town center so late. The town was always too active for my tastes at night.

There were a couple houses distant enough from one another to be safe. My mate checked them out first, despite his reluctance to be away from me. Once he returned, he indicated one of the houses as safer, and we made our way over there.

Naturally, all houses had been picked clean a long time ago, with any good food and meds completely gone. But there was still a mattress and a few blankets that no one had bothered to remove. I collected them, even picking out the best one to take home with us. Despite having a reasonably nice place to spend the night, though, I couldn’t get comfortable.

My mate grunted as I rolled over to rearrange my blankets for the umpteenth time. They had initially been over both of us in the normal way of blankets, but I’d slowly kicked and rearranged them into something more of a nest. I was snuggled up against my mate firmly enough that I was still warm, but the blankets surrounded me in a sort of barrier. Despite that, I kept feeling the urge to rearrange them in a specific but undefined way.

“Rest.” My mate’s voice breezed against the shell of my ear. I huffed, sinking against him. The feeling wasn’t as strong, but it prickled at the back of my mind enough to be an irritation. Only the weight of my mate holding me down kept me from getting back up and trying again.

My sleep was restless and even once the sun rose, I was bleary and yawning. Luckily, my mate was more than willing to carry me the rest of the way into town.

As soon as we headed into the more populated areas, my mate slowed and started keeping close to the buildings. He slunk in the shadows, ears pricked and nostrils twitching as he sniffed at the air.

“The pharmacy’s down that street, then two left turns,” I said, keeping your voice soft. He grunted, tucking me more securely against his chest, then began moving.

The pharmacy was in much the same shape it had been when I’d visited a while back. The windows were smashed in, empty packages scattered across the ground, and shelves knocked over. I tugged on my mate’s arm and he set me reluctantly on the ground.

“There might not be much left,” I said. “Hopefully there’s something. At least isopropyl alcohol.” I picked my way through the store to the medicine aisle.

I wasn’t entirely sure if the pharmacy had been ransacked by humans or if it had been ravaged by monsters. Probably both. There were gouges in the walls and shelves that certainly hadn’t been made by human hands, and quite a bit of packaging had been torn apart with no care for preserving the drugs inside. But there were also large blank spots on the shelves that seemed to track with what a desperate human would grab if they were trying to stock up in a hurry. It took some scrounging and asking my mate to shift some shelves before I found a bottle of disinfectant, some pain meds, and several rolls of bandages. They were a little grimy, but it was better than nothing.

Unfortunately, there was little else to work with. Most of the prescription stuff was unintelligible to me, and I wasn’t going to risk taking something without knowing proper dosage or even what it did. The alcohol was gone, because of course it was. Maybe it was for the best. No drinking while pregnant. Though the lack of isopropyl was upsetting.

Speaking of. I’d only been walking around for about an hour, but my back was twinging and my ankles hurt. Dammit. I sat down and rubbed at my ankle. It was swollen and red, straining against my sock.

My mate padded over, ears twitching frantically. There had been no sign of anything living except the two of us, but he was clearly still on edge. “Are we done?”

“Mostly,” I said. I shoved the items I’d gathered into my bag, wrestling with a bag of pads for a moment before I could get the zipper shut. Luckily, there had been some left, and it seemed prudent to grab them. “Did you see any food?”

He paused for a moment, then extended a hand toward me. In his palm lay a smushed-looking bag of chocolate chips.

My mouth dropped open. “Where did you even find these?” Chocolate! It had been so long since I’d had any chocolate. My mouth watered like a fountain.

“Under shelf,” he grunted, gesturing vaguely in the direction he’d come from. “Hidden.” He assessed my expression. “Good?”

I nodded. All I could taste on my tongue was chocolate. God, even the slightly shitty semi-sweet stuff would taste good. It was like the world had narrowed into a point and that point was the chocolate. Some rational part of my brain noted that I should probably wait, savor it, but that was completely overrun by the part that wanted. With my fingernails, I ripped into the package and started eating.

The taste was exquisite. Mind-boggling. So good. I swallowed it in massive mouthfuls, barely remembering to breathe or chew. It coated my tongue in thick sweetness, smeared on my fingers and lips.

My senses finally clicked back into place about halfway through the bag. Ah. The ferocious hunger had been replaced with a just-as-ferocious nausea. Right. Consuming a day’s worth of calories in about five minutes would do that, and it was probably more sugar than I’d eaten in a long, long while. And I hadn’t even checked the expiration date. Chocolate didn’t go bad, right?

A tongue slid over your cheek. My mate was nuzzled close to me, giving you soft, soothing licks. It did help, actually, and it helped more when he rubbed a hand over my stomach. “I think I overdid it,” I muttered. I shoved the chocolate into my bag before the desperate urge to just eat it all overtook me again. “We should probably get moving.”

It had been a pretty quick journey to get into town and to the pharmacy, but being nauseous made the trek back at least twice as long. I kept having to pause and take deep breaths to settle my stomach. Practically, it would have been better if I just let myself throw up and got over it, but some instinct made me hold it back. My mate didn’t complain, just licked comfortingly at me whenever I needed to stop.

Walking slowly meant I was getting a better look at my surroundings. Random garbage littered the street, most of it rotting or covered in dirt and plants. It had looked worse the last time I’d been in the town- now things were starting to be reclaimed by nature. Plants climbed the sides of the houses and overgrew any items left outside. Even a few animals crept around, looking at me and my mate cautiously when we passed.

It was as we headed back into the neighborhood that I saw it. Half falling out of a window, there was a massive fluffy blanket. My eyes went wide as soon as they landed on it. It was beautiful- a pale cream color, only slightly marred by dirt, and it was so thick and soft-looking. It would be perfect to curl up on, perfect to keep me warm, perfect for my nest-

The desire that thrummed through my body was inescapable. It was the thing that would soothe my restlessness. I couldn’t fight it; I didn’t want to fight it. I wanted that blanket.

My mate nudged me. His expression was questioning. I pointed to the blanket in explanation. “I need that.” Some very tiny part of my brain knew that it was ridiculous. It was just a blanket. But I needed it more than I’d ever needed anything in my entire life. It was mine, and mine alone, and I was going to have it.

My mate swung his head back and forth from the blanket to me. For a moment, I thought he was going to drag me away, exasperated by my demand. But he just made an affectionate huffing noise and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Sit close to house. Will be back.” He jumped, digging his claws into the side of the building and scrambled up toward the blanket.

I watched as he climbed the building and gave an experimental tug on the blanket. It appeared to be caught on something, because after a few tugs, he heaved himself further up and crawled in through the window.

A prickling feeling crawling along my spine and settled into the pit of my stomach. In that moment, I knew that something was about to go wrong.

About a second later, it did. My mate screeched, a high, keening noise that tore right into my soul and stopped my heart dead in my chest. Something else answered, something with a deep and terrible voice that vibrated the ground under my feet.

Seconds later, the window shattered as my mate was thrown backward out of it.

He twisted in midair and landed on his feet as nimbly as a cat. As soon as he was on the ground, he crouched in front of me, teeth bared. “Go! Hide!” he barked.

That deep snarling noise came again and the wall around the window bowed outward. The creature that leapt from the house was easily twice the size of my mate and hexapodal, with its two forelimbs lifted slightly off the ground. Grasping digits like primitive hands flexed and gripped at the air. Its face was nothing more than a twisting mass of teeth and jaws opening like slashes in its skin. The blanket I wanted was snarled around one of its forelimbs.

My mate sprang back, trying to shield me with his body. “Go!” At the sound of his voice, the creature twisted toward him and charged.

My mate grabbed me and sprang. Within seconds, he was ducking around the corner of the house. “Stay. Hide,” he said. He took a few steps away from me just as the creature barreled around the edge of the house and came for him.

Within seconds, my mate was lunging, twisting, lashing at the monster with his claws. It reared back, flinging one of its forelimbs. My mate dodged the first one, but the second one lanced across his side. He was thrown across the yard and landed in a crumpled heap.

“No!” The scream ripped itself out of my throat. Immediately, the monster’s head snapped toward me. It was larger than me and stronger than me and could rip me apart and I didn’t care. That thing had hurt my mate, wanted to hurt me, and it had my goddamn fluffy blanket. It was dead.

The monster charged. Without even a second to think, I dodged. Energy thrummed through my veins as I rolled away. My stomach made your motions ungainly, but there was a grace that I noticed hadn’t been present before. I dodged and dodged and danced back, avoiding its heavy swings. Bit by bit, I were leading it away from my mate. Where I was leading it to, I wasn’t sure. But my mind seethed with rage and all I wanted was to find some way to make it hurt.

One of the creature’s claws swung at me. I jumped out of the way and, acting on pure instinct, I lunged between its legs. Before it could recover, I rolled onto my back and slashed at its underbelly with my nails.

It shouldn’t have done anything. Guns barely hurt the damn things. My flimsy little nails should have broken against its hide. But my fingers caught on something and when I yanked, its skin tore. Black blood oozed over me as I scrambled out from under it.

Apparently, it hadn’t been expecting that either. It staggered, apparently stunned, then it whipped around. Its many mouths opened and, with a face of nothing but teeth, it charged.

There was an enraged screech and my mate barreled out of nowhere. The creature swayed in confusion as he landed on its back. His claws dug into it, ripping out chunks of fur. For a moment, they both scrambled to readjust. My mate recovered just a second faster. He lashed out, his claws scoring deep into the creature’s skin. For a second, he only scrabbled at the creature’s neck. Then his claws caught and he ripped a deep slash across its throat.

Black blood gushed out in a miniature waterfall. The creature staggered, stumbled, and sank to the ground. My mate was off it in an instant. He paused only to snag the blanket off the creature’s claws, then he scrambled over to me.

The blanket was around my shoulders in a second. My mate was kissing and licking every inch of me he could reach, nuzzling into me like he was trying to fuse with me. “Stupid,” he said. His voice was somewhere between a growl and a frightened moan. “So stupid, reckless, dangerous. Unsafe.”

“I’m okay,” I said. I was a little sore, but nothing had actually been damaged. Regardless, my mate took the opportunity to look me all over, focusing special attention on my stomach. Eventually, he was reassured that I was fine, he simply clung to me, brushing his cheek against the top of my head.

“Should have hid,” he said. He didn’t seem angry so much as fiercely relieved. There was a slight tremble in the arms that held me. “Could have been hurt.”

“I couldn’t leave you. It could have killed you. And I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t there.” He rumbled quietly, keeping me tucked against him. “I’m sorry I asked you to get this for me. It was stupid, I shouldn’t have asked for it-”

He made a soft hissing noise and shook his head. “No. You are nesting. Need material. I will provide it.” He tucked the blanket more securely around me. “We should return. You must rest.”

My mate hefted me up and took off in a loping run. As much as I tried to keep them open, my eyes drifted shut. Tucked safely in my mate’s arms, I fell asleep.

I woke as your mate set me down in the tent. He fussed with the blankets a little, trying to tuck all of them around me at once. “Sleep,” he murmured. “Rest.” I didn’t bother to fight him. Sighing, I nuzzled back into the blankets and fell asleep.

He was insistent that I stay in the camp for days after that. I wasn’t going to object. That bee in your bonnet about rearranging things had flared up once more and I couldn’t stop myself from sorting all my belongings until they were placed just so. My mate seemed pleased by this, praising and cooing at me when he returned.

“You are nesting,” he told me when I asked. “Preparing to birth. It is a good sign.” He pushed a large chunk of fatty meet toward me. “Eat.”

It was just barely cooked, the way I’d been eating all my meat lately. Almost raw, the way he ate his meat. Huh. And I had managed to claw that monster as easily as he had…

I swallowed. “I hurt that monster when we were fighting it. Like you.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“I shouldn’t have been able to do it. Right? I’ve never been able to hurt them before.” He paused in his eating to fix me with his brilliant green eyes.

“You are like it. Like me, now,” he said. “We can harm one another. Though you are still smaller. Weaker. And pregnant. It is not safe.”

“I wasn’t about to go out and start a fight club,” I said. “What does that mean? Being like you?”

He stared at me blankly. It was the sort of look you’d give someone who asked how to call 911. That ‘isn’t it obvious?’ look. “Like me. Not like the other ones. The ones before.” He shifted his weight a little so he was leaning against me. “We are mates. You carry our child. We are like each other.”

I looked down at your hands, flexing my fingers. My nails did look darker than usual, jagged and sharpened. Maybe it was being pregnant, maybe it was just something that had been happening for a while. But I was different. Not quite human anymore.

Something inside me shifted. My hands jumped to my middle just in time to feel something press gently against the inside of my womb.

My mate stiffened. Wordlessly, I took one of his hands and guided it to the area where I’d felt the shift. He held still for a moment, then a delighted shudder ran through him as the baby kicked.

For some time, we sat curled together, feeling our child move. It was real. There was a little creature inside me, one that came from me and my mate and it would be the future of our pack and our home. A baby. Our baby. In the ruins of the old world, there would be a new one sprouting and growing like a new tree after a forest fire.

I didn’t realize you were crying again until my mate licked the tears from your cheeks. “Love you,” he murmured. “Love our child.” His hands stroked over my belly fondly, possessively. “Keep you safe. Protect you. Forever.”

“I love you,” I whispered. “Thank you for everything. I never thought I would have anyone else, but you’re here and our baby and- and-”

I was curled around him, an inseparable tangle of limbs. His face pressed against my neck. My arms locked around his back. Secure and safe and together. The world had ended, I was mated to a monster, and yet I’d never been happier.

For most of the next few months, I remained in the camp. My mate was never far away, always there in a moment if I needed anything. In the week leading up to the birth, he was nearly attached to my side, snarling at anything that posed even the slightest bit of a threat.

I had expected it to be terrible, but once the birth started, my mind went into an odd trance. By the time I came out of it, my mate was cradling our newborn.

It was so unbelievably tiny. Its torso and head were human, though its legs were digitigrade like its fathers. And its eyes were a perfect, solid green.

My mate purred furiously into your ear. “So wonderful. So perfect. Love you. Love you so much.”

“I love you too,” I whispered back. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I looked at my child and my mate. “I love both of you. So much.”