12. Sterling #2
“In a way, yes,” Dr. Lively says, her smile widening, but there’s sympathy there, too. “Suppressants work most of the time, but it does happen that an Omega meets a scent matched pack powerful enough to challenge their effectiveness. It’s rare, but it happens.”
“But…what do I do?” I feel ridiculous.
“First, we’ll confirm it with the tests. But if I’m right…you have some choices to make.”
My stomach does a slow, terrified flip. Choices. I hate choices. Especially when they come with feelings I don’t know how to handle.
“What do you mean choices?” I ask, almost afraid of what the answer is going to be.
“Well, the last time I saw something like this, the Omega in question was pulled into heat nearly twice as often as normal until she ultimately accepted them as her pack and bonded them.”
“What?!” My voice rises full of alarm.
My pulse jumps, panic taking up residence in my chest. “So what do I do?”
“Well, there really isn’t much you can do,” Dr. Lively says gently, her voice calm but firm.
“We could increase your suppressants, but that can be dangerous. You’re already on a potent dose, and upping it further could cause some serious side effects.
And even then, there’s no guarantee it would override the scent-matching aspect of what’s happening. ”
My stomach twists painfully. “So…what are my options?”
Dr. Lively sighs, her expression softening with something that feels a little too close to pity. “From where I sit, increasing the suppressant dose isn’t a viable option. Which leaves you with only two choices.”
Her tone is careful, compassionate, but there’s no missing the seriousness in her eyes.
“Option A: Avoid them. Sometimes literal distance can allow the body to settle back into its normal levels. But the same thing will happen every time you get near enough to scent them again,” she says simply.
“Or option B: Accept the mating pull on your own terms. Sometimes, going through a heat with the Alphas in question can lessen the scent-matching attraction afterward. But only if you feel safe. If you don’t feel safe, we have other services that can assist you during the inevitable increase in heats.
It won’t be the same, but it will help take the edge off.
It’s completely anonymous and safe, if that’s what you’d prefer. ”
I blink. “That’s it? Those are my options?”
“That, or stop taking suppressants and just see what happens.” She shrugs.
I stare at her, disbelief sharpening my voice. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“Then my advice stands. Keep your distance, and hope your body settles back to normal. Or…option B.”
I almost laugh at that. In a town this small? Keeping my distance isn’t an option. The thought of trying to avoid Cass, JP, and Quinn feels impossible. And option B? That one fills me with heat and dread in equal measure.
Because the idea of letting them help me through a heat sounds terrifying and mouthwatering all at the same time. One thing is for sure though—I’d move away before going into a heat with strangers. That thought makes my skin crawl.
By the time I leave her office, I’ve been poked, prodded and examined inside and out. I’m tired of being indoors and I need a distraction. I remember Daisy saying that the fall Saturday market is amazing, so I drive in that direction.
I circle the park blocks a couple of times, searching for a parking spot, mildly shocked at how packed the market is.
Eventually, I find a spot, feed coins into the meter, and grab a woven basket from the back of my car.
It was meant for the classroom, something for the kids to use during art projects or story time, but today it seems perfect for walking in the autumn sunshine.
The market is already in full swing. The air is warm and crisp, brimming with the scents of fresh produce, baked goods, and flowers. Everything mingles together , both chaotic and comforting.
People are everywhere—families pushing strollers, couples holding hands, vendors shouting out their daily specials. It’s busy, bustling, and so completely different from the quiet mornings I’ve spent at home. But I like it. The energy, the noise, the life.
I tighten my grip on the basket, my fingers running over the smooth, woven edges. It feels good to be out. To be doing something normal. Something that makes me feel like I’m part of this town, not just a newcomer.
The sun filters down through the trees, dappling the pavement with patches of light. It’s warm but not stifling. I weave my way through the rows of stalls, my senses a little overwhelmed.
I let out a slow breath, my shoulders relaxing a fraction. This is good. This is exactly what I need. Just a nice, ordinary Saturday morning at the market. No drama, no complications, just?—
“Miss Hart!”
I whip around, heart lurching at the familiar voice.
Blake comes barreling toward me, grinning from ear to ear, his hair a wild mess of dark curls. Quinn is a few steps behind him, looking way too good in a simple T-shirt and jeans and ordinary sunglasses, the kind of casual effortlessness that makes my brain go fuzzy.
And of course, Cass and JP are right there with him.
Because the universe apparently hates me.