Page 75 of Examining the Bond

I can’t just walk away like this.

She has to know I at least stopped by to see her…

Whipping around, I scurry back to the desk. “Could I leave a message for Dr. Morales?”

The secretary looks me up and down, her face scrunched in disapproval. “You can leave your name, and I'll tell her you stopped by.”

I give her my name, barely managing to fight off tears as my thoughts whirl. I could try to stay, to see if Ziel will loan me more money. I can wait outside the clinic every day like a stalker until I see her again.

Even if she hates me, it won't end with me telling her I was going to find another alpha.

A sob violently shakes my chest as I reach the front door, tears fully blurring my vision.

I don't want her to think there's anyone I could love aside from her. If I leave with her believing that she's not enough for me, I'll never forgive myself.

But where else can I go except back to the academy and my nest?

My gaze pans the street, as if a random passerby can give me an answer. But all I see is the slow stream of cars and the hunched shoulders of pedestrians fighting the cold.

I press my lips together, letting the tears fall as I pull out my phone. I still have time to catch the plane.

I'll hold on, and keep holding on, until I reach my nest.

Then, I can let myself break all over again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

SKYLAR

My phone rings again—I've lost count of how many times I’ve heard my ringtone today—and I reject it without even looking at the name. I don’t care who it is; I’m not in the mood to talk. If it’s the research center, they can figure it out without me. Now that Dr. Martin is back, I’m on vacation.

I’m not doing a fucking thing today, aside from rotting on the couch. I cleared my schedule specifically for wallowing.

I reach for the remote beside me and flip the channels on the television, pretending like I’m looking for something to watch. Truthfully, I just want background noise. Something that might distract me from the thoughts threatening to tear my mind apart.

Maybe I’ll watch an action movie. Fast cars and gunshots should do the trick.

The doorbell rings, shattering my train of thought, and my eyes fall to my abandoned delivery food on the coffee table. Did I accidentally order twice? I’m definitely not expecting company.

I ignore it, hoping they’ll leave, but the doorbell dings again.

Once, twice, three times?—

“Aargghh!” I growl, dragging myself off the couch and stomping over to the front door. “Ya voy, stop ringing the goddamn bell.”

I snap the door open a little too hard, wincing as the wood creaks in protest, and find myself face to face—or chest to face rather, because she’s so short—with Lana.

“What?” I bark, trying to reel in the growl burning up my throat.

Anyone else would have cowered at the grit in my voice, but not her. Lana’s never been intimidated by me, even after I presented. Her dark brows lower over her eyes, her lips hardening into a line.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” she snaps, shoving me out of the way to cross the threshold.

I shut the door—a little too hard—and she whips around to glare at me. She might be tiny, but I wouldn’t put it past her to throw a punch if I don’t settle down.

Reluctantly, I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, feeling a fraction better.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, fighting to keep my voice level.