Chapter 163: Scent of an Empty Nest

“We are currently in the Song Moon,” Vex answered. “You can tell because the birds are screaming their heads off every morning at dawn. It is very annoying.”

He sat back down on the rock, crossing his legs comfortably.

“The Song Moon and the upcoming Flower Moon… these are the moons of life,” Vex explained, his voice taking on a slightly huskier tone. “It is what you might call ’Mating Season.’”

Ren gulped. “Mating Season?”

“Yes,” Vex grinned. “The air is heavy with pollen and pheromones. The world wakes up. Males become aggressive and possessive. Females become… receptive. During these two moons, a female’s body is most eager to catch a seed. The chances of falling pregnant now are ten times higher than in the Cold Nightmares.”

Ren felt the blood drain from her face. She had arrived right at the start of this biological frenzy. No wonder everyone was trying to claim her.

“As for the female bleeding part,” Vex continued, holding up his hands to mime a circle. “It is simple. The moon pulls the tides of the river, yes? It also pulls the tides of the female body.”

Ren blinked, clutching her towel as a sneeze threatened to escape. “The… tides of the body?”

“Yes,” Vex nodded sagely. “When the moon is full, the female body cleans its nest. The blood flows to wash away the old lining to make room for a new egg. It is the Moon’s way of saying, ’Try again next time.’”

Ren sniffled loudly. “Okay. That… actually kind of makes sense. It’s basically the menstrual cycle synchronized with the lunar cycle.”

“Right,” Vex said, though he was unsure what she meant by menstrual cycle. “Most females bleed during the Full Moon. If the Moon calls and no blood answers… it usually means the nest is occupied. There is a cub blocking the door.”

Ren felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead that had nothing to do with the flu.

“But…” Ren started, her voice trembling. “Vex. I haven’t bled. In two months…I mean two moons. That’s really strange, right? And it’s Mating Season. I… I definitely have a cub blocking the door, don’t I?”

Vex looked at her.

“I don’t know why you haven’t bled,” he said simply.

“You don’t know?!” Ren shrieked, her voice cracking. “But if I haven’t bled, doesn’t that mean I’m pregnant?!”

Vex leaned forward, tapping his nose.

“The Moon is a guide,” Vex explained. “But the nose is the truth.”

He pointed his finger at her.

“When a female is carrying a cub, her scent changes. It becomes sweet. Like milk and warm honey. It is a very distinct, very pungent smell designed to make males want to protect her rather than…claim her.”

Vex wrinkled his nose.

“You, my Little Rose,” Vex said bluntly, “do not smell like milk and honey. You smell like sickness, minerals, and that lavender soap. But underneath all that? You are empty.”

Ren stared at him. “Empty?”

“Empty,” Vex confirmed. “There is no second heartbeat. There is no milk scent. There is no cub. Even with the Mating Season making you extra fertile, your nest is empty.”

Ren slumped against the limestone wall, her legs feeling like jelly.

“So… I’m not pregnant?”

“Unless you are carrying a ghost baby that has no scent,” Vex shrugged. “No. You are just fat.”

“I am not fat!” Ren snapped automatically, though the relief was so overwhelming she barely put any heat into the rebuttal.

She wasn’t pregnant.

She let out a long, ragged breath. The tension that had been coiling in her gut since the system first gave her the pregnancy scare finally unspooled.

But then, a new worry took its place.

“Wait,” Ren frowned. “If I’m not pregnant…why haven’t I bled in two…two moons?”

Vex paused. He looked at her, his orange eyebrows knitting together in genuine confusion.

“I told you…I do not know,” Vex admitted. He scratched his ear.

’Stress?’ Ren wondered, rubbing her temples. ’Malnutrition? The constant life-or-death situations? The flu?’

Back in her world, stress could delay a period. But two whole months?

Her hand drifted unconsciously to her upper left arm. Her fingers brushed against the small, hard ridge beneath her skin—the contraceptive implant.

A memory surfaced. A sterile white room. A doctor holding a pamphlet.

“Now, Ms. Reynolds, this implant is effective for three years. But once it expires, the hormone release becomes unstable. Side effects of leaving an expired unit in can include hormonal crashes, migraines, infertility, and highly irregular bleeding patterns.”

Ren swallowed hard.

The implant was expired.

It was just a piece of plastic rotting in her arm, leaking who-knows-what into her bloodstream.

’Infertility,’ the word echoed in her mind.

The Old Ren—the Michelin Star Ren—would have cheered.

But now?

Ren looked down at her stomach.

The thought of never having a family… never seeing a little baby with Syris’ amethyst eyes or Kael’s golden ones…

It terrified her.

The Old Ren is dead. She died in that ravine. This New Ren… maybe she wants babies? Maybe she wants a noisy, chaotic family?

The thought was scary. It was overwhelming. But it wasn’t unwelcome.

’I need to get this thing out,’ Ren decided. ’It’s poison now. I need surgery. But who is going to do it? Vex? I don’t think I want to let him cut me open.’

She was spiraling when—

THWACK.

Something fuzzy and heavy hit her squarely in the face.

“Mmph!” Ren grunted, stumbling back.

She pulled the object off her face. It was a dress.

Well, calling it a “dress” was generous. It was a shapeless sack made of the same coarse, raw sheep’s wool as the towel. It looked like something a prehistoric monk would wear as a punishment. It was beige, lumpy, and radiated itchiness.

“Put it on,” Vex commanded.

Ren held it up with two fingers, looking at it with disdain.

“Do you have anything else?” Ren asked, her nose stuffy. “Maybe something… cotton? Silk? Something that won’t exfoliate my skin off while I walk?”

“No,” Vex replied cheerfully.

He glanced back at her over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Unless, of course, you prefer to stay naked?” Vex offered with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “I certainly wouldn’t mind. It would save me the trouble of imagining what is under the wool.”

Ren glared at him, clutching the itchy sack to her chest.

“I’ll wear the dress,” she grumbled, coughing into the scratchy fabric. “Pervert.”

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