Chapter 3: The Rejection
Trish prepared the ultrasound equipment and rubbed gel all over Della's lower belly. Della wondered how she had missed all of the signs. Her periods had never been regular, but she had been feeling nauseous in the morning, and her pants had seemed a little tighter than usual. She had chalked it up to her tendency to overindulge on sweets, and the cooks had been making more apple pies than usual due to an overabundance of apples this year.
"Of course I missed the signs," she muttered. "I had no reason to even suspect I was pregnant." She wondered how this could be happening to her. "I really don't know when this could have happened," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gazed at her mother, praying she believed her.
"Were you at any parties, drinking, and not had any memory of what happened?" Her mother asked, and Della shook her head.
"No, never. I've kissed a few times, messed around with clothes on, but never anything that could lead to.... to this." She looked down at her stomach, realizing she even had a slight bump. "Why didn't anyone notice that my scent changed?"
"Well, we did, but we assumed it was due to hormones, perhaps your body calling out to your fated mate?" Leah sighed. "I believe you, Della. We never realized it was due to pregnancy because we know you. Whatever happened, it clearly was not something you agreed to." Anger flashed across the Luna's face. "Who would dare to do this to you! How could they have done it without you knowing?"
Della watched the monitor, her eyes lighting up when she heard the heartbeat. That was her pup, alive, with a strong heartbeat! Trish frowned, and her heart sank. "What is it?" She demanded, panic rising in her voice.
"As you know, werewolf pregnancies progress faster than humans, lasting four months rather than nine. Your pup appears to be about a month along, based on the developmental characteristics. The size, though, is slightly larger than normal."
"What does that mean?" Della asked, alarmed. "Is something wrong with him?"
"What makes you so sure it's a him?" Her mother asked, gazing at the small shape on the monitor, a small smile on her face. "Can you tell at this point?" She asked Trish.