Page 38 of Examining the Bond

I shove my phone away, my eyelids drifting closed. The sweet smell of crisp forest wraps around my mind, turning my thoughts hazy as unconsciousness creeps in. The last thing I see before drifting off to sleep is Skylar kneeling before me, kissing her way up my thigh.

Then, I’m out like a light.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SKYLAR

It’s a miracle that I’m able to make it home, shower, and change on my lunch break without anyone asking what I’ve been up to. Either I’m way more subtle than I give myself credit for, or the staff would rather live in ignorance than know the truth.

Maybe both.

After grabbing Mr. Clifton’s chart from the lab and making my rounds to see a handful of patients, I’ve managed to stuff the memories from this morning into a mental filing cabinet to assess later. I’m exceedingly grateful for the rut suppressants I took at home that have already kicked in. If not for them, just the thought of Riann spread out on my desk or whimpering as I ate her out would have me marching straight out of the office to find her at the hotel next door.

I shake my head.

I need to work; I need tofocus.

If I’m going to figure out what’s going on with Riann’s designation, I have to lock the thoughts of her up tight and get through the rest of my work day.

I actively avoid my office until I’ve seen all of the day’s patients because I know once I get there, I won’t want to leave. I didn’t bother to clean—I just locked the door and left—so her scent is bound to be dripping from every surface in the room.

The second I step through my office door, I’m assaulted by the mix of marshmallow and smoke, the stench of sex and pine still clinging to space. I shudder, closing the door behind me and resting my head back against it.

I take a slow breath, then another. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to finally relive what happened this morning. The delicious whimpers that fell from Riann’s lips, how beautifully she responded to my touch, the way her pussy clamped down on my fingers as she came…

What I wouldn’t give to do it all over again.

Forcing my eyes open, I take a step toward my desk, but something on the floor catches my eye. It’s lumpy and black and, as I kneel to pick it up, I realize with a twist of pleasure what it is.

Riann’s shirt.

She only grabbed her sweater after we were nearly caught earlier, and she must have been too frazzled to think about it. With a smirk, I snatch it up and bring it to my nose, inhaling deeply and letting the smell of marshmallows fill my lungs.

She’ll be lucky if she gets it back, unless it’s to soak in more of her delicious scent for me.

Still clutching the tank top, I march over to my desk and sit in the office chair Riann was in earlier. The slick might have dried, but the chair still reeks of her. I let her sticky-sweet perfume fill my sinuses as I pull out her chart, my eyes spilling over the levels and numbers that I’ve committed to memory.

I’ve stared at them for hours, trying to make sense of the seemingly perfect results to no avail.

I’m missing something; I have to be.

I ran every test I could think of, checked and rechecked, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Clearly the answer is buried deeper, and I haven’t dug far enough to find it.

How is it possible for someone to have perfectly normal test results but such confusing symptoms? It isn’t like they're constant either; they fluctuate, which doesn’t make things easier. Her heat, her rut, the way she doesn’t react to scents…

Besides mine.

My scent nearly choked her the first time we were in an exam room together, which lends to my theory that we could be some kind of incomplete scent match, but I’ve never heard of that happening either.

I bring her shirt to my nose again, breathing her scent in like a drag on a cigarette while my mind churns.

None of it makes sense, which only makes me more eager to figure out what’s going on. A diagnosis would not only change Riann’s life—her enrollment in the academy and her future as a prospective mate depend on it—but solving something so rare would change my career forever.

The possibilities make my fingers tingle.

My eyes fall to the slick stain coating my desk as my mind wanders, trying to figure out where to go from here. Her blood lacks the chemical compounds found in alphas and omegas, that much I know, but maybe something else was missed. Something to do with her genetics, like a marker or mutation that we haven’t seen before.

Something new…