TEMPORARY MATES PERMANENT CRAVINGS novel Chapter 14

Fourteen

Lisa POV

My phone buzzed.

Mom: Sweetheart, how are you? I miss you so much. Call me when you can. We moved out of the house. Luna Catherine moved us into welfare housing. It’s just one bedroom and a little sitting room, nothing fancy, but at least we have somewhere to sleep now. The street is noisy and the walls are thin, but we’ll manage. James keeps complaining about the distance to the academy, but he’ll survive. Don’t worry about us okay? Just focus on settling in.

I stared at the message.

My thumbs hovered over the screen.

I’m fine. Everything’s fine.

I deleted it and tried again.

It’s beautiful here. I met some people today. Getting settled.

My finger rested over the send button.

It was a lie. Not a big one. Not an important one.

Still a lie.

I sent it anyway.

Another message arrived almost immediately.

Sasha.

Have you met his mate yet? Is she really as sick as they claim?

I stared at the words.

Evangeline’s cold fingers around mine,

Her tears.

Her smile.

I set the phone beside me.

How do you explain that someone’s kindness makes everything worse? That being treated like family when you’re nothing more than a transaction hurts more than cruelty ever could?

I lay back on the bed, still dressed.

Soon. Tomorrow. Maybe the day after.

I would start taking drugs to prepare my body to carry Cameron’s child.

A child I would give birth to and then walk away from.

I turned onto my side, facing the wall.

I could still hear her voice.

Sister. Thank you.

I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to disappear.

A knock dragged me awake.

Sleep had come in short bursts, broken by nerves and strange dreams.

A woman’s voice sounded through the door. “The medical team is here.‘

I pushed myself upright.

Right.

The tests.

Because Nadia and Cameron didn’t trust the reports from Crescent Falls. Because they needed proof I wasn’t lying about who I was.

I dressed quickly and pulled my hair into a ponytail.

The medical team had set up in a room near the main hall.

The furniture had been pushed aside. Tables stood covered in equipment.

Two doctors waited,

Both Lycans.

Both studying me with professional interest.

“Miss Hartwell,” the older one said, Gray hair touched his temples. “We’re conducting additional testing today to confirm Crescent Falls results. Standard protocol for arrangements like this.”

“What kind of tests?”

“Blood panels. Genetic screening. A full physical examination.”

He glanced at the clock.

“It shouldn’t take long.”

It took three hours.

They drew blood until my arm felt hollow.

Swabs from my cheek. My throat.

Endless questions.

Medical history. Family history. Sexual history.

“You’re a virgin?” the younger doctor asked without looking up.

“Yes.”

“Any irregular cycles?”

“No.”

“Any family history of infertility?”

“Not that I know of.”

The questions never stopped.

The physical examination was worse.

A paper gown. A cold table.

They checked everything.

Every measurement.

Every function.

Making sure I was worth the price they were paying.

When they finally finished, I felt wrung out.

Like someone had taken me apart and rebuilt me wrong.

“Everything looks good,” the older doctor said while removing his gloves. “You’re healthy. No concerns.”

He handed me a sheet of notes.

“The official report will arrive in a few days, but preliminarily everything matches Crescent Falls‘ records.”

I forced a small nod.

“Thank you.”

The doctors packed their equipment and left.

I returned to my room and collapsed on the bed.

The door opened again.

Nadia stepped inside carrying a box.

“These will help,” she said, setting it on the desk

She opened the lid.

Inside sat several bottles of pills.

“What are they?”

“Fertility medications.”

She lifted one bottle and checked the label.

“Two of these in the morning. One at night. This one only if the others make you nauseous.‘

She arranged the bottles in a straight line across the desk.

“Are they safe?”

“They’re standard for fertility treatments.”

Her voice stayed flat.

“Take the first dose now.”

She handed me two pills and a glass of water from the nightstand.

I swallowed them while she watched.

The pills scraped down my throat.

“Any questions?” she asked.

Too many,

“When?” I asked instead.

Her expression softened a little.

“Cameron will send word. Tomorrow night, most likely, Maybe the night after. He’s handling pack matters.”

“Okay.”

Nadia studied me.

“Are you alright?”

“For tonight.”

My stomach lurched.

She moved through the room with practiced efficiency.

Soon the bath filled with steaming water and herbs.

The scent filled the air.

“This cleanses the body,” she explained. “Makes you more receptive.”

I sank into the bath.

She added oils to the water.

“You’re a virgin. These will ease the pain.”

More instructions followed.

When I stepped out, she handed me a sheer nightgown.

“Wear this when you’re ready. Nothing underneath.”

I stared at the fabric.

Her voice softened.

“It will be over quickly. Just breathe.”

She gathered her things and left.

The nightgown waited on the bed beside several small bottles of oil the woman had left behind.

I changed into it even though it was still early. The thin fabric clung to my skin and left almost nothing hidden. I sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to think about how exposed I felt.

Six o’clock passed. Then seven.

By the time eight came around my heart wouldn‘ settle. I kept glancing at the door, expecting a knock at any moment.

At eight–thirty I moved to the bed and lay back, staring up at the ceiling. Evangeline had said to lie still and let him lead, so I folded my hands over my stomach and tried to slow my breathing.

Nine o’clock came.

No knock.

I waited another few minutes, listening for footsteps in the hallway, but the house stayed quiet.

By nine–twenty I pushed myself upright, confusion mixing with a strange wave of relief that I didn’t want to examine too closely.

Nine–thirty came and went. Then ten. Then eleven.

By midnight I had stopped looking at the clock.

The knock, when it finally came, startled me.

I hurried to the door. “Come in.”

Franklin stepped inside.

“Is he-”

“Not tonight,” he said quickly. His expression carried a careful apology. “Something came up. Pack matters. It’ll have to wait.”

My chest tightened. “When?”

He hesitated. “Tomorrow, maybe.”

Tomorrow.

Or the day after.

Or whenever Cameron decided the time was right

“Okay,” I said quietly.

Franklin’s gaze moved across the room. The nightgown. The oils on the nightstand. The untouched bed.

Understanding passed over his face.

Without another word he stepped back into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

I stood in the middle of the room for a long time still wearing the thin nightgown with my arms wrapped around myself.

I had prepared. I had waited. I had laid myself out exactly the way they expected.

And he hadn’t even come.

Eventually I climbed back into bed without changing and pulled the blanket over myself.

Tomorrow night, maybe.

Or the night after that.

Sooner or later it would happen.

There was no escaping it.