Have You Tried Crossing Over Yet Novels & Stories

“That, I don’t really know. Maybe it won’t be too much of an issue with proper care and education, maybe not. But you might have to keep that risk in mind if you get grandkids and great-grandkids who are a little more adventurous. Because, the thing is, most hybrids were treated so bad that it was hard to find specimens that turned right. Most that were sane, bred with no more that one other specie.” I nodded. “I guess it’s pretty serious if you’re thinking of kids so much,” he said. “She sees them,” I said. “In visions.” “Oh,” he said. “Plus, we’re getting married, so—.” “Well, congrats.” “Yeah, well I could have waited a bit for this.” I rubbed at my shin. “Not ready?” “More like too busy.

I don’t like the sound of that. I sigh and tentatively ask, “So, what can we do to fix the problems? Or is there anything that we can do to fix it?” A crease forms across his forehead as he glances at Jimmy. “The elders are working on it, but for now, we will have to try and keep them separated. Maybe Jimmy can fix whatever is wrong on his own. Jimmy and Tommy will have the highest possibility of actually mating if Jimmy’s scent smells sweet to Tommy, too.”

Watching my mate in so much pain and terror, nearly wrecked me, and I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit by and let her suffer, I could feel her fear through the mating bond. I’d heard rumors growing up among the pack that not only could mates sense each other’s strong emotions through the bond, that it was also possible to conscientiously share emotions too. I didn’t think it was going to work, especially because my mate was too young to fully feel the bond, and because she is human, but I knew I had to try. So, I used a calming technique my stepmother Iris taught me back when I was at the height of puberty and learning to control my merge with my wolf, to open myself up to con

“Since you haven’t gotten pregnant after spending all this time with my brother, I'm suggesting that we should try mating. Your body might not have a problem but you might not be compatible with him, anyways, there's no harm in us giving it a try, right?” Prince Darius suggested as he looked directly at me without any shame.

I tried to wave him off. "All our new wolves are dead," he announced. "What do you mean, our new wolves are dead? Over a hundred can't die like that. Be specific with details." "You need to see for yourself." Cross, for the first time, disconnected our mindlink and blocked me out. Panic surged within me as I attempted repeatedly to reach him, but my efforts were futile. Was he angry with me?

The desire embarrasses me sometimes in its intensity. Female hybrids do not conceive. At least none ever documented successfully. The few recorded exceptions all involved purebloods and ended the same way. Death. Mother and child both lost before term. I know the studies by heart. I know the biological limitations. I know hope is foolish. Yet still I researched. Still I tested theories. Still I searched. I built entire wings of this clinic around that obsession while pretending it was merely academic curiosity. My gaze shifts unconsciously toward the framed photograph sitting near the corner of my desk.

“How so?” Cross asked with interest while drawing small circles on my breast with his fingertip. How did he expect me to focus and think when he was doing that? I closed my eyes for a moment and bit back a moan when he pitched my nipple. I couldn’t even remember the question. “I—- ohhh—“ I couldn’t form a full sentence. Cross made it worse by leaning forward and taking my nipple in his mouth. The heat of his mouth drove me crazy. I reached and grabbed the back of his head to hold him against my breast.

Unspoken hung the thought that it might become of a child of his. There was no easy answer to that. Mathin contemplated a leaf, still wet with the morning’s dew. “We know so little of these crosses. One of Jasmine’s sons can change, the other cannot. Yet he wears a symbiont and seems to have senses much like you.” He met Scy’s eyes. “There is some question as to whether they’ll be able to reproduce at all.” “I don’t intend to experiment.” Scy straightened as if to move off.

“An interview with the geneticist that I recorded yesterday.” The road to this hothouse of a studio was paved with buccal swabs, blood draws, and lab testing. Six independent groups of scientists have confirmed that I am “an interspecific cross” (Latin for freak, I believe) and not, as some pundits and social media trolls have decreed, “a grifter making shit up for clout.” “. . .was not believed possible. We don’t have reports of hybrids, even from territories such as Europe, in which Weres and Humans live more amalgamated lives. What changed?”

Novah’s POV Relief, cold and shaky, washed over me. He was letting it go. For now. We were back to the script. *Just the project.* I pointed a slightly trembling finger at a section of the problem set. "This one. The dihybrid cross with linked genes. The recombination frequencies… I get confused."