18. Hannah
Hannah
I 'm lucky all my clients are in the morning two days after my visit with Noah, because by the time I'm leaving the salon at noon, I'm feeling…
weird. I had decided to stay away from my alphas yesterday, but answered Enzo and Noah's texts so they wouldn't be worried.
I needed a clear head to think about things from an unbiased perspective.
How am I supposed to figure out how long it'l l be before they get tired of me if I can't think straight?
The effect of the true scent match is undeniable. Having Noah show up at my door on Sunday afternoon had been like an omega wet dream. I had only caught a glimpse of him at Titus' party, but fuck I was right.
I wanted him to spank me.
Shoulder length black hair he had pushed back out of his face, pierced ears, a hoop through his eyebrow, black spiderweb tattoos that flexed across his muscular neck and forearm, and that positively sinful smirk all screams "bad boy".
And his scent?
Cinnamon and clove, warming me from the inside out and reminding me of walking through a forest during autumn, when the leaves are turning bronze and falling from the branches.
Thinking of his scent seems to bring my strange feelings to the surface again.
Light-headed.
Tired.
Like I really need a knot.
I would say I'm in pre-heat, but that's impossible. I literally just had a heat less than a week ago. When I start making my way to my car in the parking lot, black spots flash across my vision.
Shit. Am I going to collapse right here in the parking lot? Will my tombstone read "Here lies Hannah, she died right after meeting her scent matches?"
Determined to not be remembered for losing consciousness in a parking lot, I finally make it to my car, and slide into the front seat before calling Doctor Mejia's office. At least I feel okay when I sit down, otherwise it'd be too dangerous to drive.
The receptionist picks up quickly. "Doctor Mejia's office, how can I help you?"
"Hi, this is Hannah Beckham. Does Doctor Mejia have any openings today? I'm having symptoms that feel a lot like pre-heat, but I just came out of one last week."
"Oh my," the receptionist murmurs, and I hear the clicking of keys in the background. "Would you mind holding for just a moment, dear?"
"That's fine," I murmur, and then hold music fills my ears. A few minutes have passed when the receptionist comes back on the line. "Ms. Beckham?"
"I'm here."
"Doctor Mejia has a gap in patients in about twenty minutes and she wants you to be seen as soon as possible. Is that something you can do?"
Starting my car, I check behind me before backing out of my parking spot. "I can be there in ten."
"You don't have a fever," Doctor Mejia, a beta woman in her early fifties, looks at me with concern. Her brown hair is streaked with gray, and is pulled into a severe bun. "And you say you just had a heat? Was it…satisfied?"
"Is it ever?" I ask, giving her a look .
Doctor Mejia has been my primary care provider since I turned eighteen and presented as an omega.
She knows all about my relationship with heat clinics.
"I wasn't alone, if that's what you're asking.
The experience was far from 'satisfying', however.
I've been going to the clinics for ten years, though, and this hasn't ever happened. "
"Okay." She puts her thermometer down and pulls over a rolling stool, sitting down. "So if that's all the same, then let's look at what's different."
My stomach drops in realization. The only change between now and then is scenting Noah, Enzo, and Austin. "I…um…well, I met my true scent matches," I offer weakly.
The doctor's face lights up. "Oh, Hannah, that's wonderful dear. How long ago?"
Frowning, I tick the days off on my fingers. The party was on Wednesday, and today is Tuesday, so… "Just under a week?"
Her brow furrows. "Then where are they, Hannah? Why aren't they here?"
"We're uh…we're taking it slow." I don't need to tell her I'm a self-sabotaging idiot.
"Okay…I can understand that. Did you collect proper nesting materials from them?"
Now I'm frowning. "What do you mean?"
"Items for your nest?" She asks. "With their scents? Blankets, pillows, hell, even worn shirts? Your omega needs their scents, Hannah." At my blank look, she sighs, taking off her glasses. "I think I know what the problem is here. You have scent sickness."
My stomach sinks at her words. Scent sickness? It's only been a week, how is that possible?
"I saw one of them two days ago," I choke out, shaking my head. "And another one, we went out on a date the day before and his sport coat is still stuffed into my nest."
Yeah, really hope he's not counting on getting that jacket back.
She frowns, tapping her pen against her clipboard.
"The scent may have faded too much by now to be effective in preventing the sickness, especially if he wasn't wearing it for very long.
" At my devastated expression, she switches to a reassuring smile.
"It's okay, Hannah. It's an easy fix. Just get their scents and keep them with you if you don't want to move too quickly. "
"That's it?" I ask, incredulous. "I just need their scents?"
"That's it." She stands, brushing her hands off on her pants. But…scent sickness? Why haven't I heard of this happening more often?
"Does this happen to all true scent matches?" Tears sting my eyes at the feeling in my chest. The feeling that I'm somehow defective. That this is my fault.
I can't even refer to Cady's situation because right after she met them she had to move into their pack house. She didn't have time to get scent sickness.
Doctor Mejia's eyes soften with understanding. "If you're thinking about Cady's case…well she didn't have ten years of semi-satisfied heats under her belt, Hannah. And she moved in with them pretty quickly. Your body…" she sighs, turning to me and taking my hands in hers.
At this moment, we aren't just doctor and patient.
She's the same woman who let me cry on her shoulder ten years ago, when I was told I wouldn't be able to take heat suppressants because my kidneys wouldn't be able to handle it.
Who talked me through my options and told me there was nothing wrong with going to a heat clinic.
Omegas are emotional, hormonal creatures. As a result, where a regular doctor might tell you to go see a therapist, omega specialists are there for emotional needs as well.
Call it a one-stop shop.
"Your body needs this, Hannah," she says gently, meeting my eyes.
"In my professional opinion, you should not be taking it slow with these alphas unless there is a safety concern.
Your omega has been untethered for far too long, and now that she's met her mates, she's kicking up a fuss.
One that could be detrimental to your health if you continue to ignore it.
Your body could throw itself into heat in an attempt to get your mates to you. "
"I get it." I blink away the tears, nodding my head.
"I really do, it's just…there has to be a reason, right?
Why all the other packs weren't interested?
What if…" My eyes flutter shut, and a shuddering breath leaves me.
"What if they realize it? What if they leave me?
Wouldn't it be better to try to cut off the scents cold turkey and hope my body recovers instead of going through it worse later when they leave? "
"Oh, Hannah." Doctor Mejia squeezes my hands gently, and my eyes open, looking at her kind face.
"The other packs…" She shakes her head. "I have no reasoning as to why things never progressed with any of the other packs.
Unless…" She trails off, looking unsure as to whether or not she wants to say what she's thinking.
Huffing, I roll my eyes good naturedly. "Lay it on me, Doc."
"It's just a theory," she explains, "there is no research and no fact behind what I'm going to say. But…that boy you dated before you moved here…he was an alpha, correct?"
My brows furrow. "Yes…?"
"It's possible that the OMS packs instinctually recognized your connection to another alpha. Though, admittedly, I'm not sure how that would work unless the alpha in question was also your true scent match."
"I…I hadn't presented yet," I stammer, my heart suddenly pounding a million miles a minute. "There shouldn't have been any kind of connection."
"Your omega takes your cues from your heart, Hannah. This is all speculation, but think about it. You were still heartbroken when you presented, wouldn't it make sense if your omega always knew there was someone missing?"
Charlie…another scent match? That's impossible. I would have noticed at the party…except…no, I wouldn't have. I specifically remember being relieved I didn't have to scent his coconut and sandalwood signature.
My mind races, trying to think back to that night, trying to remember if I felt any sort of connection to Charlie when I saw him.
Of course I did. But that doesn't mean he's my scent match. We've always been pulled towards one another, like two magnets. Even if he is my true scent match, it doesn't mean anything.
It can't. He destroyed me.
I can't let him do that again. He's not allowed to just waltz back into my life like he didn't rip my heart out.
Leaving a concerned Doctor Mejia with the promise that I'll gather some of my pack's scent, I manage to make it to my car without any dizziness.
Shit.
Gods, I'm sure other omegas wouldn't have this problem. What am I supposed to do? Text one of them, "Hey, sorry but your scent match is so defective she needs to be enveloped in your scents less than a week after meeting you"?
An omega whine climbs out of my throat as I throw my head back against the headrest and close my eyes. What the hell is wrong with me? Gods, no wonder none of the other packs were even tempted by me. I'm a mess.
There's no way I'm going to let myself go back into heat, though. No fucking thank you.
Sighing, I pull my phone out of my purse and open my contacts list. Noah had made sure I had his phone number before he left my apartment the other day, and has been sending me sweet good morning texts.
Noah and Enzo seem to both want me equally, but Noah has this….way about him. Like I could murder someone and he wouldn't help me hide the body—he'd do it himself so I don't get my hands dirty, then craft us alibis and tell me they probably deserved it.
With Enzo though, part of me is terrified of disappointing him. Maybe that's just my daddy issues talking, though. It has nothing to do with the fact that I climbed him like a tree this weekend and he hasn't tried to see me again.
It's not fair to Enzo, and I'm sure I'll get to know him better, but for now, Noah seems like the safest option.
Me
Hey are you home? Can I come over?
Biting my lip, I watch the three little dots light on his side of the screen. Hopefully he doesn't ask me why.
Noah
Sure, princess. You're welcome over any time. Here's a pin with the address
The screen populates with a location and address, and I frown, wondering what the hell kind of coincidence it is that my new scent match lives in the same neighborhood as my best friend.