42. Stone
Chapter 42
Stone
T he morning sun filters through the windows, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. I haven’t slept. None of us have. The house is finally quiet, though the sweet scent of omega heat still lingers in the air, not as overwhelming as before but present enough to keep us on edge.
Jax paces by the window, his usually pristine appearance showing signs of strain. His shirt is wrinkled, dark circles under his eyes matching my own. We’ve been waiting, watching, listening to the silence that fell over the house just before dawn.
The sound of tires on gravel makes us both tense. I check the security feed on the tablet—it’s Dr. Greene’s familiar sedan pulling up the drive.
“She’s here,” I say, but it’s unnecessary. Jax is already moving toward the door.
Dr. Greene steps out of her car, medical bag in hand. She’s exactly as I remember—tall, professional, beta. Her dark hair is pulled back in a neat bun, her expression neutral as she approaches. But there’s something in her stride that suggests urgency.
“Stone. Jax.” She nods to each of us as she reaches the porch. Her nostrils flare slightly, and I see the moment she catches the scent lingering in the air. Her eyebrows lift. “I see what you mean about the intensity.”
Well, that just confirms I’m not going insane. For a beta to smell that delicious sweetness Hailey’s been emitting must mean she’s a particularly strong omega. Her scent is overpowering, even for those with less sensitive noses.
Jax opens the door wider, letting the doctor in. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
She steps inside, her clinical gaze taking in our appearances. “Of course. Though I must say, I’m surprised. According to my records, Finn isn’t due for a heat for at least another two weeks. And you’ve never had trouble managing his pre-heats before.”
I exchange a look with Jax. This is the part we need to handle carefully.
“Actually,” I start, but she’s already setting her bag down, her professional demeanor shifting into something more concerned.
“The pheromone levels in here are unusually high,” she observes, glancing between us. “How long has this been going on? You both look like you haven’t slept, and given how you’re reacting to his pre-heat…” She trails off, frowning. “This isn’t typical for either of you.”
“Dr. Greene,” Jax says, voice tight with control. “There’s something you need to know. It’s not Finn.”
She pauses in the middle of opening her bag. “Not Finn?”
“We have another omega,” I explain, watching her reaction. “She’s…new to the pack.”
Dr. Greene straightens slowly, her expression shifting from surprise to professional concern. “Another omega? You’re no longer bonded to Finn? When did this happen? And why wasn’t I informed sooner?”
“It’s complicated. Finn’s still with us,” Jax says quietly.
Her eyes widen slightly, professional mask slipping for just a moment. Two omegas in one pack? Her gaze darts between us, and I can see the questions forming behind her carefully controlled expression.
She takes a breath, composing herself. “I see.” Her tone is carefully neutral now. “How new is she to the pack?”
I feel Jax tense beside me. We both know what she’s really asking. How legal is this? How much does she need to know?
“Recent,” I say simply. “And she needs help. The pre-heat hit hard and fast. Nothing like we’ve seen before.”
Dr. Greene’s lips press into a thin line as she processes this information. I can almost see her weighing her professional obligations against whatever she’s thinking about our unusual situation. Finally, she picks up her bag again. “Where is she now?”
“Upstairs,” Jax says, gesturing toward the stairs. “With Finn.”
She pauses, one foot on the bottom step. “With Finn ,” she repeats slowly. Another careful breath. “And how is he handling this?”
“Better than we are,” I admit, running a hand over my jaw. The stubble there reminds me of how long we’ve been up.
She studies us for a moment longer, then nods decisively. “I’ll need to examine her. And I’ll need a full medical history.”
Jax and I exchange looks. This is where things get complicated.
“We don’t have one,” I tell her.
Her eyebrows lift slightly. “None at all?”
“Like I said,” Jax’s voice is tight. “It’s complicated.”
She stands there for a moment, and I can see her weighing her options. Finally, she adjusts her grip on her medical bag. “Very well. I’ll need to do a complete workup then. Blood tests, hormone levels, the works.” She looks at us pointedly. “And I’ll need honest answers about her condition leading up to this pre-heat.”
At the top of the stairs, Dr. Greene sets her bag down and pulls out what looks like a small jar. The scent of blockers fills the air as she applies it methodically to her neck and wrists.
“Standard procedure,” she says, noticing our attention. “Even as a beta, we don’t want any outside scents disturbing an omega in pre-heat.” She pulls on a pair of latex gloves with practiced efficiency. “Especially not with two omegas in such close proximity.”
The way she says it—clinical, professional—almost masks her lingering surprise at the situation. Almost.
She approaches the nest room and knocks softly. “Finn? It’s Dr. Greene.”
Silence greets us. I can feel Jax shift beside me, his tension matching my own. We both know what’s happening in there, know that Finn won’t leave Hailey unless he’s certain she’s stable enough.
After what feels like an eternity, we hear movement inside. Soft whispers, the rustle of fabric, footsteps approaching the door.
When Finn finally opens it, the scent of omega heat rolls out like a wave, hitting us with a force that makes Jax and I stagger. Even Dr. Greene recoils slightly. Finn stands in the doorway, wearing only sweatpants, his skin flushed and hair mussed. His eyes are alert though, scanning all of us before settling on the doctor.
“Sarah,” he says softly, using her first name—a privilege earned over years of trust. “What are you—” His gaze shifts to Jax and me. “Thanks for coming.”
Dr. Greene steps inside, and I glimpse the nest through the doorway. The room is a mess of blankets and pillows, and there, in the center of it all, is Hailey. I go still. She’s wearing one of my old shirts Finn used to wear, the material slipping off one shoulder, her skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat. Her hair is wild, tangled from what I know has been hours of Finn helping her through the waves. She looks thoroughly debauched and absolutely perfect.
Finn moves back to her side immediately, and I notice Dr. Greene’s subtle observation of this movement—the way her eyes track how he positions himself next to Hailey, not in front, as would be expected with a rival omega, but supportively beside.
“Hailey,” Finn says softly, “this is Dr. Greene. She’s been my doctor for years.” He takes her hand, and again, I see the doctor noting this casual touch between omegas. “She’s good at what she does, and she’s discreet. You can trust her.”
The emphasis Finn puts on trust doesn’t go unnoticed. Dr. Greene’s expression remains professional, but there’s a slight tilt to her head that betrays her curiosity.
“Hello, Hailey,” she says, keeping her voice low and soothing. “May I sit?” She gestures to the edge of the nest.
Hailey glances at Finn, who nods encouragingly. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice hoarse. I suppress a growl at the memory of why.
Dr. Greene settles carefully, maintaining a respectful distance. “I understand you’re experiencing an unexpected pre-heat. Can you tell me when the symptoms first started?”
“Um…” Hailey says. “F-for a few days. But not like this.”
“What about before?” Dr. Greene prompts gently. “How have you experienced pre-heats previously?”
There’s a pause, and I see Finn open his mouth to answer, but Hailey beats him to it. “Suppressants,” she says finally. “I was on suppressants.”
Dr. Greene’s hands still where she’s been arranging her equipment. “Suppressants? For how long?”
“Since I revealed,” Hailey admits quietly.
The doctor’s professional mask slips for just a moment, genuine concern showing through. “And when was that?”
“Si—.” Hailey clears her throat. “Six years ago.”
From my position at the door, I can see Dr. Greene processing this information. Her eyes flick briefly to Finn, who’s still holding Hailey protectively, then back to her patient.
“I see,” she says carefully. “And when did you stop taking them?”
“Not long. A few weeks ago,” Hailey whispers. “When I…” she glances toward the door where Jax and I stand, then back to Finn .
“When she came to us,” Finn finishes for her, his tone leaving no room for judgment.
Dr. Greene nods slowly, reaching into her bag. “I’ll need to take some blood samples, check your hormone levels. Six years of suppressants, especially during developmental years…” she trails off, then seems to catch herself. “Well, let’s see where we are now.”
As Dr. Greene prepares the blood collection equipment, I notice how Hailey curls closer to Finn. His response is immediate, natural—wrapping an arm around her, murmuring something too low for us to hear. The doctor’s eyes track this interaction again, her clinical assessment never missing a detail.
“This might sting a bit,” she warns, swabbing Hailey’s arm. “Try to relax.”
Hailey tenses anyway, and Finn strokes her hair. “Look at me, sunshine,” he says softly. “Just focus on me.”
The term of endearment makes Dr. Greene’s hands pause for just a fraction of a second before she continues her work. I can almost see the questions building in her head—questions about pack dynamics she’s never encountered before.
“There we go,” she says, securing the vial of blood. “Now, Hailey, I need to ask you some questions about your previous heats. Even the suppressed ones.”
“They weren’t…” Hailey starts, then stops. Finn’s hand continues its soothing motion through her hair. She looks uncertain, vulnerable. “I’ve never…this is my first…”
Dr. Greene’s pen clatters to the floor. Her professional mask cracks completely as she whips her head toward us at the door, eyes wide with shock. “First?” She turns back to Hailey. “You’ve never had a heat before? At all?”
Hailey shakes her head, shrinking slightly at the intensity of the doctor’s reaction. Finn pulls her closer.
“The suppressants,” Hailey explains quietly. “They started me on them as soon as they took me to the—” She stops, eyes finding mine. Outside of the doctor’s peripheral vision, I shake my head slowly.
We trust Dr. Greene, but telling her about the Academy doesn’t feel like the right move to make. Not yet.
“I’ve been on them since I revealed,” Hailey finishes.
Dr. Greene frowns. “Even then…there were no suppressed heats?”
Hailey looks so small, and I don’t realize I’m moving toward her until Jax’s fist tightens on my shoulder.
Hailey shakes her head. “No. None.”
The doctor’s jaw clenches briefly before she forces herself back into professional mode, though her voice carries an edge of controlled anger. “Six years of suppressants during crucial developmental years, and then a sudden cessation…” She takes a deep breath. “No wonder the pre-heat hit so intensely. You’d think your family had been preparing for this exact thing to happen when they finally took you off them.”
A growl rumbles in my throat until I realize it’s not mine, but Jax’s. The thought of Hailey going through this with some asshole who paid for her like she was cattle makes me want to punch something.
Dr. Greene turns back to her examination, her movements even more gentle now. “I need to check your glands, particularly the ones on your neck. Is that alright?”
Hailey nods, though she instinctively tilts her head toward Finn rather than away—another gesture that catches the doctor’s attention.
The examination continues in tense silence, broken only by soft reassurances from Finn when Hailey flinches at particularly sensitive spots. Finally, Dr. Greene sits back, pulling off her gloves.
“I need to speak with your alphas,” she says, her tone brooking no argument. She looks at Finn. “Stay with her. The pre-heat isn’t over yet, and given the circumstances…”
Finn nods, already gathering Hailey closer as we step back from the doorway. Dr. Greene follows us out, closing the door firmly before turning to face us.
“We should continue this downstairs,” Dr. Greene says in a low voice, glancing at the nest room. We follow her down to the living room, where she sets her bag down and adjusts her white coat in a way that seems to help her gather her thoughts.
Finally, she turns to us, and the professional mask has completely slipped away. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this could have been?” Her voice is controlled but intense. “A first heat after years of suppressants? She could have gone into shock. Her hormone levels could have spiraled out of control. The fact she’s stable at all is…” she trails off, pinching the bridge of her nose. “How did this happen? How did you end up with a second omega who’s never had a proper heat?”
Jax and I exchange looks. “She’s our scent match,” I say finally.
Dr. Greene stills completely. “What?” When we nod, she sinks slowly into the nearest seat. “A scent match?” She shakes her head slowly. “I’ve only read about those in medical journals. The odds of finding even one true scent match is astronomical…” She looks up at us sharply. “When did you find her?”
“Just over a week ago,” Jax answers.
“A week—” she cuts herself off, taking a deep breath. “And she stopped the suppressants then?”
I nod.
She’s quiet for a moment, clearly processing everything. Her gaze keeps drifting to the ceiling, where we can faintly hear movement from the nest room. “The way they interact…” she says slowly, as if piecing together a puzzle. “Finn and Hailey. Have you noticed anything unusual?”
“Besides the fact that they’re not trying to tear each other apart?” Jax asks dryly.
She shakes her head, standing to pace the room. “No, it’s more than that. The way she orients toward him, how she responds to his touch, how naturally he soothes her…” She stops, turning to face us. “In medical school, there was this theory. Most dismissed it as folklore, really. There were so few documented cases that it was considered almost mythological.”
“More mythological than a scent match?” Jax lets out a breath. He looks exhausted. Pretty sure he’s the mirror image of me right now.
“What kind of theory?” I prompt when Dr. Greene doesn’t continue.
“Omega imprinting,” she says carefully, watching our reactions. “Not like animals,” she adds quickly, seeing my frown.
Dr. Greene studies us for a moment. “When exactly did you notice their unusual dynamic? Was it only after the pre-heat started?”
Jax and I exchange looks. “No,” I say slowly. “From the moment they met. It was…” I search for the words. “Immediate. Like they recognized each other somehow.”
Her eyes sharpen with interest. “Before the pre-heat? Tell me exactly what you observed.”
“Finn was drawn to her instantly,” Jax explains. “Which isn’t like him at all with other omegas. And Hailey…” he pauses, remembering. “She was terrified of everything, of us even, but not of him. She looks at him like…”
“Like he’s her world,” I finish for him.
Dr. Greene leans forward. “And their scents? Did you notice anything there?”
We both shake our heads. “There’s never been anything to cause alarm.”
Dr. Greene taps her fingers together, the soft sound breaking the silence in the room. Finally, she gestures upstairs. “What you’re describing—the instant recognition, the natural compatibility, the way their scents work together—it all fits. If I’m right, and I’ll need to run specific tests on their blood to confirm, Finn and Hailey aren’t just compatible omegas. They’re mates. ”
“ Mates ?” Jax’s voice rises just a little. “They’re both omegas. How is that even possible?”
Dr. Greene’s eyes are bright with academic excitement. “Biology isn’t as simple as we think. These cases are so rare that most doctors consider them myths, but I’ve always believed…” She catches herself, becoming more clinical again. “The blood work will tell us more. I’ll need your permission to run tests on Finn’s stored blood, but if I’m right…”
“If you’re right?” I prompt when she trails off again. The exhaustion is making it hard to process all of this.
Dr. Greene rises, her expression thoughtful. “If I’m right, it would explain everything. Why Finn isn’t territorial around her, why she calmed so quickly in his presence, why they’re able to share space so naturally.” She pauses. “It would also explain why this pre-heat hit her so hard. It’s not just the suppressants, though those certainly contributed. Her body is likely trying to sync with her mate.”
“But what does this mean?” Jax asks, running a hand through his hair. “For all of us? She’s our scent match, but if she and Finn are…” he can’t seem to finish the sentence.
“That’s what makes this case so fascinating ,” Dr. Greene’s eyes light up again. “A scent match and omega mates in the same pack? It’s unprecedented. But from what I can observe, it seems to be creating a perfect balance. Have you noticed any confusion in your own bonds with Finn? Any jealousy or territorial behavior toward Hailey?”
We both shake our heads.
“And Finn’s been more settled since she arrived, hasn’t he? More centered?”
“Yes,” I admit. “He’s been…” I glance at Jax. “Happier.”
Dr. Greene nods. “Think of it like this—you two and Ren are anchored to each other as alphas, and to Finn as your omega. Hailey is anchored to you three as your scent match, and to Finn as her omega mate. It creates a complete circuit, so to speak. Each connection strengthening the others instead of competing with them.”
She moves to her bag. “I’ll need to run comprehensive panels on all of you. Blood work, hormone levels, pheromone analysis. With your permission, I’d like to document this case for medical research. Anonymously, of course.”
It all sounds interesting but I don’t…I don’t care about all that.
“Will she be okay?” I ask, my mind going back to Hailey upstairs. “With the pre-heat, and everything else?”
Dr. Greene’s expression softens. “With proper care, yes. The pre-heat is intense because her body is adjusting to multiple significant changes at once. Coming off suppressants, meeting her scent matches, bonding with her omega mate…” She starts gathering her things. “But she has exactly what she needs— alphas who can protect her, and an omega mate who can guide her through it.”
Dr. Greene adjusts her coat again, still talking. “I’ll start the blood work first thing when I return to the lab. The sooner we understand exactly what’s happening, the better we can support all of you through this transition.” She smiles at us, but I can’t even respond to it. I don’t know what the fuck I’m feeling. “I’ll also send over some supplements—vitamins, minerals, things to help ease the strain on her system.”
She straightens, looking between us. “I know this is a lot to process. A scent match alone would be significant enough, but combined with everything else…” She shakes her head slightly. “Just remember that what feels overwhelming right now is actually your pack finding its perfect balance. These bonds—all of them—they’re meant to strengthen each other.”
As we walk her to the door, she suddenly pauses, turning back with a thoughtful look on her face. “One more thing…” She seems to consider her words carefully. “I noticed Hailey doesn’t have any bonding marks yet. Not even surface scent marking.”
Jax shifts uncomfortably. “We didn’t want to overwhelm her.”
“I understand the instinct to be cautious, especially since she’s coming into her first heat,” she says gently. “But scent marking would actually help stabilize her right now. It would give her system something concrete to latch on to, make the transitions easier.” She adjusts her bag on her shoulder. “You don’t need to rush into deeper bonding, but some basic scent marking from all of you—including Finn—would help ground her. Think of it as…creating a scent foundation for your pack bonds to build on.”
She opens the door, then stops. “Oh, I almost forgot. On my way up the drive, just at the entrance, actually, I ran into a couple of betas. They said they had a flat tire and asked for help.”
My entire body goes still.
Jax’s eyes narrow, his stance shifting subtly. “A flat tire?”
Dr. Greene nods, oblivious to the way the air around us shifts. “Yes. They flagged me down as I was turning in. Two males. Seemed…friendly enough, I suppose.” She shifts her bag to her other hand, shrugging lightly. “They asked if I had a jack or if I could call someone to help, but I told them I wasn’t exactly equipped for that sort of thing. I’m a doctor, not a mechanic.” She lets out a soft laugh at her own joke, but neither of us reacts.
“Did they say anything else?” Jax presses.
She frowns, looking between us now, clearly picking up on the tension. “No. Just asked for help with the flat tire. Why? Is something going on?”
“No,” I say quickly. “Thank you for telling us. We’ll check it out.”
She glances between us again, clearly unconvinced but too professional to press further. She gives us one last look before heading to her car. She pauses at the driver’s side door and turns back to us. “Don’t wait too long to scent mark her,” she adds as if it’s an afterthought. “It’ll make a world of difference for all of you.”
We nod, but neither of us responds. My attention is already fixed on the drive, my mind racing.
As soon as Dr. Greene pulls away, her car disappearing down the winding road, Jax steps off the porch, his movements sharp and deliberate.
“Flat tire, my ass,” he mutters, his hands clenched into fists.
I follow him, my chest tight with the same unease that’s been gnawing at me for hours. “The same car,” I say quietly as we reach the edge of the porch, my eyes scanning the tree line. “It has to be.”
Jax nods, his jaw tight. “Yes.”
“And now they know we’ve got a doctor coming and going,” I add bitterly, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “If they didn’t know about Hailey before…”
“They do now.”
The weight of that realization settles over us like a storm cloud, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. The morning sun feels colder now, the shadows stretching longer across the yard.
“Get the keys,” Jax says finally, his voice sharp. “We’re going to check it out.”
I nod, already moving for them. My pulse is pounding in my ears, adrenaline sharpening my focus as I grab the keys and head back out, climbing behind the wheel.
Jax slides into the passenger seat, his expression grim as I turn the SUV and head toward the entrance.
The drive is quiet, the tension between us thick and heavy. When we round the last bend and the entrance to the drive comes into view, my stomach twists.
The car is gone.
No sign of a flat tire. No sign of anyone at all.
Jax lets out a low growl, his hands gripping the dashboard. “They’re fucking with us.”
I pull the SUV to a stop, my eyes scanning the surrounding trees. “They were here,” I say, my voice tight. “Dr. Greene wouldn’t make something like that up.”
Jax nods, his gaze sweeping the area. “They’re watching,” he mutters. “Waiting for something. ”
“For her,” I say darkly, my hands tightening on the steering wheel.
Jax doesn’t respond, but the look in his eyes says enough.
We sit there for a moment longer, the silence heavy with unspoken tension. Then Jax turns to me, his expression cold and determined.
“We double security,” he says firmly. “Every camera, every lock. No one gets in or out without us knowing.”
I nod, already thinking through the next steps. “And Ren?”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue. “We call him. If they come back…” He trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish the sentence.
If they come back, we’ll be ready.
But as I turn the SUV around and head back toward the house, the uneasy feeling in my chest doesn’t go away. Because whoever they are, they’re not just watching.
They’re waiting.
And we’re running out of time.