Some days, Demi seriously considered going tiger and staying that way for the next three months or so. She'd known going into this that she was going to be carrying more than one baby in her womb, but the bump was getting a little out of control. At 19 weeks, where every other pregnant woman she knew had had a cute little bump, she had a monstrosity, and on a woman who was only a few inches over the five feet mark, it was beginning to look a little ridiculous. In the end, though, she'd had enough. She needed to know how many were in there, if only for her own peace of mind, let alone Neville's.
It wasn't the fact that they might be having more than one offspring that concerned Neville, so much as worrying about the health and well-being of said offspring, not to mention that of their mother. There was some curiosity, too, but mostly he wanted to make sure everything was going well, and that there was no real cause for concern. And so it was that he was accompanying Demi to see just how many babies were hiding inside that huge bump of hers.
Still, at least they were blessed with the strength and healing ability that Demi had been born with, and that Neville had contracted not so very long ago. There was little fear of the cubs being unhealthy; they were just going to be incredibly uncomfortable to carry around for a couple of months toward the end. Thankfully, though, Marissa had pointed them toward a specialist in were-pregnancies.
Libby Rothen was a bright, bubbly redhead whose practice was filled with as much modern medical equipment as it was with traditional things. "Oh, aren't you looking lovely!" she exclaimed cheerfully as they came into her clinic, which was essentially just her own living room. She patted the wide padded bench in the middle of the room. "Hop up, I'll just get the scanner."
Demi glanced up at Neville as the redhead bustled out of sight. "Well, Marissa did say she was a little bit psychic."
"You are looking lovely," Neville pointed out with a fond smile, though he knew the woman probably wasn't using the word in the same context that he was. But then, when wasn't she looking lovely, in Neville's eyes"
Demi smiled softly, tilting her head back to look up at him. "You are incredibly biased," she pointed out, reaching up to stroke her palm over his jaw. "And I love you for not pointing out that today's bra does not fit." She grinned up at him. "Help me get on this bench, your cubs have decided my center of gravity is somewhere around my knees today."
Neville had noticed the change in her bra size, but he was too nice and polite to mention it. He knew how self-conscious she'd become of her newly-rounded figure and didn't want to add to fuel that fire. "There's just more of you to love, love," he pointed out with a dimpled, cheeky grin, as he did his best to help her onto the bench.
"Such a gentleman," she purred fondly, grateful for the help as he eased her onto the bench. She rolled naturally onto her side - being on her back was not the comfortable experience it had been just a few weeks ago - breathing in the surprisingly soothing incense that was burning in a corner. "You know ....the more of them in here, the sooner they'll be coming out to join us."
Another man might have beamed with pride at the thought of having conceived so many children at once, but Neville only frowned in worry. "Yes, but isn't it dangerous for them to be born too soon?" he asked, though he admittedly didn't know much about Lycan pregnancies or births.
"If we can make it to 30 weeks, I'll be happy," she told him gently, squeezing his hand. "They'll be small, but they'll be healthy from that point on, and they won't be in any danger. They're pure-blooded were-tigers, love. They have our healing rate already."
"Are they going to be born in human or tiger form, do you think?" he asked, though they'd been over this at least once already. It was a lot of information for one man's mind to absorb all at once.
"Human form," she assured him. They'd done their best to make certain of that; she hadn't shifted her own form since the heat that had planted these cubs in her womb to begin with. But, oh, she was looking forward to being able to run on four legs again. She missed it desperately.
"Most weres are born human," Libby's voice interjected over the sound of a rattling trolley as she wheeled her equipment into the nurturing space. "Those born animal tend never to change their form."
"Never?" Neville echoed, arching both brows. He had not been born a were-tiger and though he was learning, there was still a lot he didn't know. Standing beside Demi, he linked his fingers with hers to offer what little comfort and support he could. She wasn't alone in this; he was right there beside her.
"Sometimes they turn, sometimes they don't, but in my experience, those born animal from a mother wearing her human form never change their skin," Libby told them. "Not that this will be a problem for you," she added, setting up the monitor where they could both see it. "You've clearly been careful about your shape-changes. Now then ....what was it you came to find out about today?" She glanced between them, aware of the vague alarm mingling with the concern on the couple's faces.
Demi swallowed. "Um ....Well, how many are in there, really," she admitted awkwardly, glancing up at Neville. "And ....do we want to know the sexes?"
"I think if we're going to find out how many there are, we might as well find out how which sex they are, too," Neville replied, as he looked back at Demi for confirmation. It wasn't so much a matter of convenience as it was of curiosity. He figured the chances were good that they were having multiple sexes, as well as multiple children, but he had no idea how many of which.
Demi felt herself smile, nodding in agreement as she slid her fingers between his, glancing down to watch Libby uncover her bump and lay her warm hands there for a moment. "Feisty, aren't they?" the midwife chuckled, drawing back to gently warm the gel before applying the wand to Demi's distended womb. "Now then ....let's see what we have here."
"Just like their mother," Neville remarked, chuckling a little at the midwife's remark. He had felt the movement of their children beneath his hand on occasion, but of course, he could not feel that movement quite the way Demi could.
"There now ....let me lighten this up a little ..." Libby tapped a couple of keys, and the contrast on the monitor sharpened. "Much better. Oh, look, holding hands ..." She chuckled, twisting the wand to try and get a better view of what looked like two of the babies holding hands just like their parents. And there were more than two ....three, in fact, with the third seemingly in their own world.
"Oh, my gods," Demi whispered. "Three ..."
It was easier than Neville had expected to make out the three distinctly separate shapes of their children. He'd expected to find at least two, but from the picture he was seeing, there was at least one more. "Three?" he asked, as if needing confirmation that he'd counted correctly. "We're having three?"
"Aye, looks like three to me," Libby confirmed, pointing to each distinct head. "Two sharing, one alone. I'd say you have identical twins and a sibling in there."
Demi bit her lip, utterly astounded. She'd been expecting more than one, but she had never thought there really would be three in there. "No wonder the bump is so big," she breathed, gripping Neville's hand tightly.
It wasn't the fact that they might be having more than one offspring that concerned Neville, so much as worrying about the health and well-being of said offspring, not to mention that of their mother. There was some curiosity, too, but mostly he wanted to make sure everything was going well, and that there was no real cause for concern. And so it was that he was accompanying Demi to see just how many babies were hiding inside that huge bump of hers.
Still, at least they were blessed with the strength and healing ability that Demi had been born with, and that Neville had contracted not so very long ago. There was little fear of the cubs being unhealthy; they were just going to be incredibly uncomfortable to carry around for a couple of months toward the end. Thankfully, though, Marissa had pointed them toward a specialist in were-pregnancies.
Libby Rothen was a bright, bubbly redhead whose practice was filled with as much modern medical equipment as it was with traditional things. "Oh, aren't you looking lovely!" she exclaimed cheerfully as they came into her clinic, which was essentially just her own living room. She patted the wide padded bench in the middle of the room. "Hop up, I'll just get the scanner."
Demi glanced up at Neville as the redhead bustled out of sight. "Well, Marissa did say she was a little bit psychic."
"You are looking lovely," Neville pointed out with a fond smile, though he knew the woman probably wasn't using the word in the same context that he was. But then, when wasn't she looking lovely, in Neville's eyes"
Demi smiled softly, tilting her head back to look up at him. "You are incredibly biased," she pointed out, reaching up to stroke her palm over his jaw. "And I love you for not pointing out that today's bra does not fit." She grinned up at him. "Help me get on this bench, your cubs have decided my center of gravity is somewhere around my knees today."
Neville had noticed the change in her bra size, but he was too nice and polite to mention it. He knew how self-conscious she'd become of her newly-rounded figure and didn't want to add to fuel that fire. "There's just more of you to love, love," he pointed out with a dimpled, cheeky grin, as he did his best to help her onto the bench.
"Such a gentleman," she purred fondly, grateful for the help as he eased her onto the bench. She rolled naturally onto her side - being on her back was not the comfortable experience it had been just a few weeks ago - breathing in the surprisingly soothing incense that was burning in a corner. "You know ....the more of them in here, the sooner they'll be coming out to join us."
Another man might have beamed with pride at the thought of having conceived so many children at once, but Neville only frowned in worry. "Yes, but isn't it dangerous for them to be born too soon?" he asked, though he admittedly didn't know much about Lycan pregnancies or births.
"If we can make it to 30 weeks, I'll be happy," she told him gently, squeezing his hand. "They'll be small, but they'll be healthy from that point on, and they won't be in any danger. They're pure-blooded were-tigers, love. They have our healing rate already."
"Are they going to be born in human or tiger form, do you think?" he asked, though they'd been over this at least once already. It was a lot of information for one man's mind to absorb all at once.
"Human form," she assured him. They'd done their best to make certain of that; she hadn't shifted her own form since the heat that had planted these cubs in her womb to begin with. But, oh, she was looking forward to being able to run on four legs again. She missed it desperately.
"Most weres are born human," Libby's voice interjected over the sound of a rattling trolley as she wheeled her equipment into the nurturing space. "Those born animal tend never to change their form."
"Never?" Neville echoed, arching both brows. He had not been born a were-tiger and though he was learning, there was still a lot he didn't know. Standing beside Demi, he linked his fingers with hers to offer what little comfort and support he could. She wasn't alone in this; he was right there beside her.
"Sometimes they turn, sometimes they don't, but in my experience, those born animal from a mother wearing her human form never change their skin," Libby told them. "Not that this will be a problem for you," she added, setting up the monitor where they could both see it. "You've clearly been careful about your shape-changes. Now then ....what was it you came to find out about today?" She glanced between them, aware of the vague alarm mingling with the concern on the couple's faces.
Demi swallowed. "Um ....Well, how many are in there, really," she admitted awkwardly, glancing up at Neville. "And ....do we want to know the sexes?"
"I think if we're going to find out how many there are, we might as well find out how which sex they are, too," Neville replied, as he looked back at Demi for confirmation. It wasn't so much a matter of convenience as it was of curiosity. He figured the chances were good that they were having multiple sexes, as well as multiple children, but he had no idea how many of which.
Demi felt herself smile, nodding in agreement as she slid her fingers between his, glancing down to watch Libby uncover her bump and lay her warm hands there for a moment. "Feisty, aren't they?" the midwife chuckled, drawing back to gently warm the gel before applying the wand to Demi's distended womb. "Now then ....let's see what we have here."
"Just like their mother," Neville remarked, chuckling a little at the midwife's remark. He had felt the movement of their children beneath his hand on occasion, but of course, he could not feel that movement quite the way Demi could.
"There now ....let me lighten this up a little ..." Libby tapped a couple of keys, and the contrast on the monitor sharpened. "Much better. Oh, look, holding hands ..." She chuckled, twisting the wand to try and get a better view of what looked like two of the babies holding hands just like their parents. And there were more than two ....three, in fact, with the third seemingly in their own world.
"Oh, my gods," Demi whispered. "Three ..."
It was easier than Neville had expected to make out the three distinctly separate shapes of their children. He'd expected to find at least two, but from the picture he was seeing, there was at least one more. "Three?" he asked, as if needing confirmation that he'd counted correctly. "We're having three?"
"Aye, looks like three to me," Libby confirmed, pointing to each distinct head. "Two sharing, one alone. I'd say you have identical twins and a sibling in there."
Demi bit her lip, utterly astounded. She'd been expecting more than one, but she had never thought there really would be three in there. "No wonder the bump is so big," she breathed, gripping Neville's hand tightly.