Page 10 of Examining the Bond

Not even close to what she asked for.

Maybe dying of embarrassment would be better than answering the question at this point.

I had no problem spilling the truth to the last doctor, despite him also being a stranger. But talking about heats and ruts with this gorgeous alpha while her scent is smothering me makes me uneasy.

“I perfumed when I turned eighteen,” I finally manage. “My scent has never been as potent as a lot of other omegas, but I didn’t question it. Everyone is different, you know?”

Dr. Morales makes a sound of agreement, jotting down notes on her clipboard.

“I had my first heat, but only one,” I go on, realizing it’s much easier to get the words out if I stare straight ahead at the white wall across from me. “After that, I started at the academy, and they gave us suppressants; that’s probably why I haven’t had another one.”

“What about your alpha traits?” she asks without missing a beat.

“That’s a… newer development.” My stomach pitches at the memory of last month’s weird rut spell. Thankfully, classes had been nearly over for the day, and I spent the worst of it buried in my nest. “Last month, I had what I’m calling a rut. It was similar to a heat but… not. More violent. Way scarier.” I shift uncomfortably on the exam table. “But it only lasted a couple of hours.”

Dr. Morales’ pen scribbles notes faster than I can keep up.

“Which one would you say you identify with more?” The question catches me off guard, even though it feels like I’ve been waiting for her to ask it. It gives me the tiniest spark of hope, like even if all the test results come back inconclusive, I’ll still be able to claim my omega designation.

“I’ve been an omega my entire life. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

She nods along. “Aside from the instance last month, and the inconclusive test results from the last clinic, what makes you think you may not be an omega?”

“I…” For some reason the alpha’s scent seems to have kicked up a notch, invading my sinuses.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” she says softly, and I almost wish she’d barked an alpha command at me. That way, at least,my body would obey even if my mind didn’t. Every muscle in me is tense, constricting tighter, and making it harder to breathe as more of her smoky pine scent stuffs into my lungs.

“I…” The words won’t come as my mind spirals into an incoherent mess. “It’s… your scent. I can’t… I can’t think.”

Her eyes widen at the admission, and she quickly hops to her feet, crossing to the door and ripping it open. The suffocating feeling lessens as her scent spills out into the hall, and I choke down a deep lungful of air. I grip the edge of the table to keep my fingers from trembling and squeeze my eyes closed until my head clears.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, her voice tender. “I didn’t mean to?—”

“It’s fine,” I cut her off. “Scents don’t normally affect me like that, but things have been getting weirder lately.”

Dr. Morales takes a seat again and scribbles something on her clipboard. Her expression is serious, her jaw clenched. Focused and poised and hot…

Her eyes snap to me like she heard me, and my train of thought crashes.

Can she read my mind?I almost laugh.

“I’ve looked over your results from the last clinic, so we’re going to take things one step further and get some bloodwork for a deep pheromone test,” Dr. Morales explains. “We’ll do a couple of preliminary exams too and go from there.”

Great.

Here we go with the needles.

My heart rate kicks up a notch and I nod.

“The nurse will be in in just a few minutes.” She offers a smile before grabbing the clipboard and slipping into the hall, closing the door quickly behind her and leaving me alone.

I sit there, staring after her, clinging to the faintest hope that she’ll come walking back in through the door to ask memore questions, even though I know it’s pointless. Dr. Morales probably has several other patients to get to and can’t waste her entire day locked in a room with me, even though I would enjoy that… a lot.

I’ve never felt such an intense attraction to an alpha before, despite the hundreds I must have met at the academy mixers.

It’s strange and foreign, but I’m sure of one thing.

I’m so screwed.