Chapter 6
Oriana
M y doctor walked in and put my scans on the table in front of me. His somber face and tight lipped smile as he entered had my stomach sinking.
The nurses stuck me in this conference room to wait and I’d spent the last thirty minutes ready to throw up. Between the pain and panic, I was sure this was going to be bad news.
Now I was positive it was.
“You’re allergic to the suppressors, Oriana. You can’t keep taking them.”
He was blunt as usual, refusing to hide anything from me, but the words were delivered with care. I’d always loved how kind and attentive he was but the way he was watching me now made me want to run out of this room.
I was not okay.
The feeble walls I’d kept around myself were crumbling. Pain I had spent hours in therapy working through was right back at the surface.
My alpha rejected me, wasn’t that bad enough? Now the doctor was telling me I’d have to suffer through my heats without anything to dull the pain? Didn’t I already suffer enough?
Suffer was putting it mildly. It would be a week of pain, longing, and emotional damage I knew would haunt me for weeks after. Would that make Roman run for the hills?
I’d been so excited at the art class, had fallen hard and fast for this beta, but now I worried it was a fragile thing that would be shattered by this mess. We’d come so far in the past two weeks and I couldn’t shake the feeling it was about to fall apart.
Taking on a bonded, but rejected omega was one thing. Having her suffer a heat, an unsuppressed one without her bonded alpha there, was another.
My beta and I had come to terms with it being just us two. I would take suppressors and ride out heats and that would be fine.
Now… I didn’t have that option.
Fuck.
It took every bit of focus to finish hearing the explanation. He broke down the damage the last heat had caused as he showed me the pictures that I could barely make sense of.
His weathered eyes were narrowed slightly in concern and the way his hands fidgeted with my file in his hands told me he was letting me down gently.
“And if I don’t?” I asked in a quiet voice, refusing to meet his eyes. It felt as if I spoke any louder it would make this all a reality.
My hands were already shaking and tears burned behind my eyes, threatening to spill free. I hated feeling like a weak, little omega. He was telling me exactly what I had been panicking about for weeks.
Roman knew I was freaking out when I left this morning. He promised he’d be there for me when I got home. All I told him was that I wasn’t reacting to suppressors and was hoping to find a solution.
I didn’t expect this outcome.
I’d taken these meds for every heat since I turned eighteen. Every few months I locked myself away with basic food and hydration, took copious amounts of meds, curled into a ball, cried, fought through the pain, and waited it out until everything faded.
Rinse and repeat for several years.
My scent matched alpha was, apparently, too fucking broken to take care of me, so I learned how to handle it myself.
Fuck Cameron Whitaker.
My doctor let out a long sigh. Something he did before he gave me a serious, but well intended lecture.
“There’s a possibility that you’d cause irrevocable damage to your reproductive system. Worst case scenario it could strain your organs and lead to deeper complications, including infertility.”
There they were. The words he was struggling to get out. If I took them again my body might not be able to handle it.
“The pain the suppressors caused was due to the swelling and inflammation. This can’t keep going on. I recommend you quit now. It’s far worse this time,” he admitted. “I don’t want to have to do surgery and render you childless, Oriana.”
My throat constricted and a sob escaped me. Most days I could keep my anger at Cameron at bay, but in moments like this, when I could see the life I always thought I would have being ripped away, the pain was fresh all over again.
My doctor knew my history and my plans to take these meds for the rest of my life. I’d told him everything the first time I had a reaction and emphasized how badly I needed them.
He was sympathetic but he also wouldn’t risk my life.
We were hopeful it was a fluke. At first, the reaction was mild, manageable, but with each heat my body rejected them more and more. Itching, pain, nausea, burning sensations… and heats that weren’t truly suppressed.
All I ever wanted was to have a real family, a pack, and to be a mom. Now, I could lose it all.
The ghost of Cameron’s memory was so close to the surface now that I wanted to scream. He was so perfect at first. Attentive, sweet, taking things at my pace. We were teenagers after all. I’d fallen for that southern drawl and the pretty hazel eyes he flashed my way. He was all sweet, flirty words and gentle touches.
Then his dads died.
Those pieces of him I loved died that day too.
I tried so hard to be what he needed, to support him through the dark times. I checked in every day and gave him space when he asked. For weeks, I was at their house every morning cooking and cleaning so they all had food to eat and a house that didn’t stress them out further.
Cam had my heart and soul and I wanted to show him I could be his rock.
He was silent and numb at first but that quickly shifted to rude and unreasonable, until he finally hit a breaking point.
It was as if everything good in him shriveled up and all that was left was a monster.
I’ll never forget those awful words he uttered at me, the ones that drove me away. His hazel eyes were cold and face hard as he purged me from his life like some sort of disease.
I’d kept in touch with his sister Avery over the years, checking in on him and her, but that was the closest I would let myself get.
He was my mate, a scent match that meant we were tied together, yet I wasn’t enough for him to keep me around.
Cameron wanted me gone and I gave him that. Any fight in me drained at the cold delivery of his dismissal.
He didn’t deserve me. If he could throw me away so easily then I could and would do better.
And I did. Roman was everything I needed and wanted in a mate. Caring, selfless, funny, open to communication. Without the filter of puppy love, I saw all the flaws in my previous relationship with fresh eyes.
The doctor’s gentle hand on my arm brought me out of my spiraling thoughts and he leaned in, making sure I was still with him.
“There you are,” he hummed, looking even more worried. “I can’t prescribe them anymore and if you go to someone else, lie to get them, it will cost you motherhood. Those are the hard, awful facts, I’m afraid. There are other options…”
I cut him off, voice harder than intended but he didn’t hold it against me.
“What, like heat partners?” I let out a hollow laugh as he nodded. The thought of giving my body to any other alpha than a scent match made me want to puke.
Heat partners could be assigned through The Omega Network Clinics, anonymous and string free, tested and safe. Yet, I couldn’t imagine being so vulnerable with a stranger.
I’d rather suffer without a knot, which seemed to be the fate waiting for me. I had Roman, and maybe this wouldn’t be bad if I had never bonded. But I had. That bond was severed, which meant my body knew there was an alpha not there with me and revolted.
While Cameron got to lead his fake, pretty life on PackVlog, I’d be suffering his absence.
I felt like I was going to puke, stomach churning and chest aching sharply.
“I understand,” I finally said as I met his eyes to show him that I truly was present, hearing his words. “I won’t risk it.”
His entire body sagged in relief and he gave my shoulder a gentle pat. His compassion was unmatched, but if he was any nicer to me I’d fall apart.
“I’m going to go, bill me or have them call to set up anything further,” I said in a rush as I gathered my things and ran out of the room. The nurses tried to stop me but I was hanging on by a single, quickly unraveling thread, and I couldn’t give them a single word of response.
When the warm, spring sunshine hit me I closed my eyes and tilted my head up, soaking it in and letting it ground me.
It wasn’t the same as it was back home. Here in the city it was full of sounds and smells that didn’t belong.
Footsteps broke me out of my trance and I stepped aside before I could get swept up in the crowd heading for lunch. I hurried to my car, climbing in and taking a shaky breath.
My grandmother was the first person I wanted to call and the stark realization I couldn’t nearly broke me all over again. There was Roman, but I wasn’t ready to talk to him just yet.
Grief and pain warred in my chest but I shoved it away. It had been a few years since she’d died and some days it still felt like yesterday.
Instead, I called up my omega father.
I’d call my mom but she was not the touchy feely sort. She was a calm and collected beta. I knew she’d give me a logical solution, but right now I needed a shoulder to cry on.
Brandon’s picture filled the screen as I made the call, his crows feet and smile lines always were my favorite thing about him. He laughed often and loved hard, two things I always wanted to do as well.
His eyes were a dark blue and hair mostly black with a touch of gray. He was my safe space, even after all this time away.
“Hey, Little Bird,” he said. The sound of the mixer running in the background had a smile filling my tearful face.
“Hey, Dad,” I managed before I heard it click off and his voice changed.
“What’s wrong?”
My choked sob had other voices joining in, my other dads demanding answers and ready to rally around me.
God, I fucking missed them.
“Calm down and let her talk,” Brandon hissed. I heard the door click and silence take over as he locked himself away from the others. “Talk to me, Ori.”
“I’m allergic to suppressors.” That was all I needed to say for him to put all the pieces together. His audible gasp was followed by a deep sigh.
“Oh, sweet girl,” he whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry. I could kill that alpha myself.”
“No,” I responded as quickly as I always did. So far they had respected my boundaries but I knew damn well they were not nice to the Whitaker triplets. Cameron for obvious reasons and the others for not smacking some sense into him. “It’s his choice.”
“It’s the wrong fucking one, Little Bird.”
“We both know that, but I refuse to be an afterthought. Someone taught me my worth.”
He snorted at that. My omega father had confidence in spades and taught me not to take any alpha’s shit. Honestly, he ran things with my parents and I loved that about him.
“You ready to leave that city yet? I miss you,” he said. “If you need a break just come home.”
I wanted to say yes, to run home and let him pamper me out of this funk. But then I knew I couldn’t avoid Lucy Whitaker or her asshole triplet sons.
“I’ll think about it,” was all I offered him. We both knew it was a no but he didn’t push me on it. He never did. My dad respected boundaries and knew I would do what I thought was best. “I’ve got Roman waiting at home. I’ll be okay.”
I’d told him all about him. My dad was practically bursting with questions and lighting up as I gushed about our dates and how amazing he was.
I had to cling to those feelings, to not let this darkness pull me under.
“Okay, but I’m checking in tomorrow. And you know that our house is always open. That or your grandmother’s place. I’ve been itching to help you fix it up,” he said.
I wanted nothing more than to be in my favorite town in the world, living in the home that held some of my fondest memories.
All I ever wanted to do was be close to my family and raise one of my own. Maybe it was the only child in me that wanted to be as close to them as possible.
Yet how could I live somewhere that my heart would be broken every time I saw my ex?
As I tried to calm my raging emotions I opened PackVlog to browse mindlessly. It wasn’t long before someone shared something by the triplets. In the last few months they’d gone viral and now I was forced to see my former mate’s perfect face gracing every social media platform imaginable.
It was a mix of Maverick being dark and broody, Nash putting up sexy thirst traps, and Cameron doing tutorials on mixing drinks. Their lives were a hot mess of comments and flirting.
Yes, I had tortured myself a time or two by joining just to see his face.
The comments turned my stomach. They were shameless and borderline stalkerish. I couldn’t imagine saying this to anyone’s face, I guess that’s why they comment on the lives. Anything to grab their attention.
Callme: They’re so sexy, I’d take a knot from any of these alphas, but all three would be even better. #Iwon’tbeabletowalkforaweek #signmeup
Dogmom54: An alpha like you deserves to have an omega on her knees every time you walk in the door. I look pretty damn good on my knees. DM me and I’ll send a pic
Singlelady: #KnottyDaddy
FutureMrsWhitaker: They could scent mark me any day!
Then the fighting started in the comments, a barrage of tearing each other down and acting like any of them had a chance.
Betasdoitbetter: Knot likely
FutureMrsWhitaker: More likely me than you #SlickBitch
Betasdoitbetter: You must have knots for brains if you think he’d choose you over me #fightme
FutureMrsWhitaker: Better knots for brains than no knots at all #PoorKnotlessOmega
They went on like that on every single video. The triplets shared an account so I couldn’t tell you who of the three was replying but they were flirting back just as hard.
It was fake as hell. I knew those three and none of them were the flirty playboy types.
Then again, people changed… I knew that a bit too well.
I’d never met three alphas more different than these triplets. Unlike other brothers who were close and wanted to pack up together, they knew all along they would never be a pack, just family.
Hell, their dad gifted them land divided in four separate parcels so they could live together but separate, a pack house to be built on each. And their sister of course.
A packhouse I was supposed to live in but now would never get the chance.
Life was a bitch.