Chapter Nine: Pregnancy Hormones

Carolina's POV 

It was Sunday in the afternoon when I pulled up to my parents' modest suburban home in Los Angeles, feeling a mix of comfort and anxiety. 

The familiar sight of Mom's rose garden and Dad's perfectly trimmed lawn brought a smile to my face. This was home - my real home, where I grew up with people who chose to love me.

Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. Mom opened it almost immediately, as if she'd been waiting by the window.

"Carolina, sweetheart!" she exclaimed, pulling me into a tight hug. "We've missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, Mom," I said, breathing in her familiar scent of vanilla and fresh laundry.

Dad appeared behind her, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. "There's our girl! Come in, come in."

We settled in the living room, where Mom had already set out coffee and my favorite chocolate chip cookies. Some things never change.

"So," Mom began, settling into her favorite armchair, "tell us everything about New York. How are your birth parents? What's it like there?"

I wrapped my hands around the warm coffee mug, gathering my thoughts. "Well... I guess it's different there, not like here with you guys." I began.

"Oh sweetheart, it'll take a while before you settle in. We're glad they've let you visit us again in such a short time." Mom said. Only if she knew the truth.

I forced a smile. "Besides that, there's actually some bizarre news I need to tell you both." I said.

They exchanged glances, and Dad leaned forward slightly. "What is it, honey?"

"I'm..." I paused, my heart racing. "I'm pregnant. And I'm getting married."

The silence that followed felt eternal until Mom broke it. "Married? To whom?"

"A suitor my birth parents introduced me to," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady. "His name is Avon. He's... he's a good man."

"Don't tell me that's why they called you back.. I mean it's so fast." Dad said, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Kind of," I admitted, looking down at my hands. "It's complicated."

Mom reached over and squeezed my hand. "Are you happy, sweetheart? That's all we care about."

I forced a smile, hating that I couldn't tell them everything - about being a werewolf, about the danger, about how confused my feelings for Avon were. "Yes, I am. Everything's good." I didn't want them to be worried over me.

"You look tired, honey," Mom observed, her eyes scanning my face. "Are you taking care of yourself?"

"The pregnancy makes me sleepy," I explained. "At Av, at the mansion, I could rest whenever I needed to."

"Mansion?" Dad raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, um, Avon's place is quite big," I said quickly, taking a large sip of coffee.

We spent the next few hours catching up. Mom showed me her new garden projects, and Dad talked about his retirement plans. 

It felt normal, safe. By evening, when I was getting ready to leave, I felt lighter somehow.

"Call us anytime, sweetheart," Mom said, hugging me goodbye. "And bring this Avon around sometime. We'd love to meet him."

"I will," I promised, though I wasn't sure how that would work with all the supernatural complications.

The drive home was peaceful, but exhaustion hit me hard by the time I reached my apartment complex. The pregnancy was making me tired.

It was nighttime when I walked from my car, and suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Something felt... off. Like I was being followed. Watched.

I quickened my pace, Avon's warnings echoing in my head: "It's not safe for you out there." My heart pounded as I fumbled with my keys, feeling watched. 

Was this paranoia, or were my new werewolf senses picking up on something real?

Finally inside my apartment, I locked the door and leaned against it, trying to calm my racing heart. 

"You're being silly," I muttered to myself, but I double-checked all the windows anyway.

I decided to have a hot shower to help calm my nerves, but as I lay in bed, a different kind of restlessness took over. My body felt heated, sensitive. 

I thought of Avon - his touch, his scent, the way he'd held me. A wave of desire washed over me, making me squeeze my thighs together.

"Stupid pregnancy hormones," I groaned, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow. But I couldn't shake the feeling, the need. 

My phone sat on the nightstand, Avon's number just a call away. Would he come if I asked? But he was a thousand miles away. When will I feel him wrap me in those strong arms, make me feel safe and wanted again?

I tossed and turned, memories of our night together playing through my mind. The way his hands had moved over my body, how perfectly we fit together, the intensity in his eyes when he called me his mate...

"Stop it," I told myself firmly, but my body wasn't listening. The pregnancy was definitely affecting me more than I'd expected. I'd read that increased desire was normal, but this felt different - more primal, more urgent.

My phone screen lit up with a text from Cassie: "Hope you're sleeping better tonight! Call me tomorrow?"

I typed back a quick reply, trying to distract myself from thoughts of Avon. But it was useless. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, felt his phantom touch.

"If this keeps up," I whispered into the darkness, "I'm going to end up running back to him without even sorting through my feelings first."

The thought should have bothered me more than it did. Instead, part of me, a growing part, wondered if that would be such a bad thing. Maybe my body knew something my mind was still trying to figure out.

I rolled over again, punching my pillow into a more comfortable shape. The digital clock on my nightstand showed 2:47 AM. Another sleepless night, it seemed.

"I miss you," I whispered, though I wasn't sure if I was telling Avon or myself. The admission hung in the air, heavy with truth and uncertainty.

Outside, a car alarm went off somewhere in the distance, making me jump. The feeling of being watched returned, and I pulled my blanket tighter around myself.

Maybe Avon was right about it not being safe. Maybe I was being stubborn, running away instead of facing my new reality. But how could I just accept that everything I thought I knew about myself, about the world, had changed?

I reached for my phone again, my finger hovering over Avon's number. I need him for my safety, for my sanity. I want to be back in his arms, safe and protected.

But I wasn't ready. Not yet. I needed time to process everything, to understand who I was becoming. Even if my body craved him, my mind needed space.

Still, as I finally drifted off to sleep in the early hours of the morning, my dreams were filled with golden eyes and strong arms, and the undeniable feeling that somehow, someday soon, I would find my way back to him.