Chapter Twelve
I get a text from Connor the next night.
We’re going to see Kanata tomorrow morning.
I have work.
Friday meant no classes, but I worked back-to-back shifts at the café and grill instead.
No, you don’t. I called the café and talked to your boss. Cecilie—nice lady. Told her I had a surprise for you.
Fucking hell. She already ships me with half our customers.
I’ll be there at 8.
You don’t know where I live.
Give me a little credit, Crane. I’ve known that for years.
My heart skips a beat, and another message appears.
I used to sit outside your apartment when I came to town for holidays.
To see if Mac was lying about me being out of town?
I just wanted a glimpse.
And did you get one?
Go to sleep, Birdy.
I could run. I don’t really have anywhere to go, and I’d be setting myself back terribly, but I could. Like one of those omegas in a Lifetime A/B/O flick who move to the middle of nowhere with five bucks in their pocket, get a job at the town diner, and start dating the charming alpha sheriff.
But those movies didn’t usually feature omegas with crippling suppressant dependencies. Even if I ran, my problems would chase me.
Connor’s at my door five minutes early, coffee and croissant in hand as his black Camaro purrs behind him.
The hour-long drive into the city is excruciating.
The weight of all the things I revealed, true and untrue, hangs between us.
Riding in his car with him reminds me of our lost years, but it was a mistake to not take my vehicle.
His scent is soaked into every surface of this car, and I’m soaking it up like a cat in the sun.
Connor turns up the radio and drives. I’m grateful he's behind the wheel. I hate driving in heavy traffic, especially in an unfamiliar city like Canterfield. He’s an even better driver now than when he was a teenager, making smooth shifts between lanes and controlling the speeding vehicle with cool confidence.
When we were younger, riding with our peers would have me gripping the crash handle and tensing every time they broke late, but I’ve always trusted Connor.
He lets me control the radio and the air. I almost put my feet up on the dash, but that's a little too close to our former familiarity to be comfortable. The old me would've been digging through the center console for gum and organizing his glove box, but I force myself to sit quietly.
“Would you like to talk, or just sulk?"
I don't deign to give him a response.
"Sulking it is, then."
When familiar signs start popping up, I offer him an olive branch. “Do you know the exit?”
“Looked it up this morning.”
"Right."
Our silence continues until we pull into the parking garage beneath Mercy Medical Center’s shining towers.
Another couple hustles into the elevator after us—a very petite, very pregnant omega, and her mate with the frame of a linebacker. The alpha stands between us and his mate, curving his body around hers. A conscious choice, or just instinct?
I studiously avoid looking at them, staring at the red digits above the door ticking up.
The couple gets off on the floor before ours.
Connor's throat works as the number ticks up to our floor. He looks uneasy.
The doors slide open into the neutral tones and posh leather seating of Kanata's office. There are snake plants by the windows and a waterfall feature in the middle of two hydroponic plant walls.
I've been here more times than I can count, but walking in with Connor paints everything in a different light.
Mated couples are a common sight in Kanata's waiting rooms, but I've never had mine here supporting me.
Mac rarely came with me anymore, but when he had, the staff always treated him like a father figure.
Coming here without my mate again and again over the years was like picking a scab raw repeatedly, never allowing it to heal.
Watching the happy couples holding hands or chatting softly always made me start thinking in what-ifs and could-have-beens.
The language of dreams, when I was long past dreaming.
Now, I manage to feel like both an impostor and that Connor could discover the truth at any moment.
The receptionist checking me in glances behind me to Connor, and her eyes brighten. I silently swear. I didn’t consider the possibility that someone here may recognize him. That kind of gossip would spread like wildfire in Crestwood.
“What’s your mate’s name?" The receptionist asks. "He’s not listed on your profile, but I can go ahead and add him.”
My entire body stiffens.
"He’s not my mate." The words taste like acid in my mouth. Have I ever actually said them out loud?
I choose a waiting room chair without a match beside it, forcing Connor to sit caddy-corner from me. He rolls his eyes and crosses one leg over another.
It's not long before a nurse with a clipboard calls my name. She glances at Connor and smiles.
“Your alpha's welcome to come back with you.”
“He’s not?—”
Connor's already standing. I huff out a breath and follow the nurse through the hallway maze to an exam room, where she takes my vitals and updates my chart.
“What are we seeing you for today, Ms. Crane? Your regular check-in appointment wasn’t for another few months, but I see we had a request to work you in urgently."
“I—”
Connor holds my stare. If I’m not honest, he will be.
“I’d like to have my blood drawn and get my levels checked out. I haven’t been feeling great.”
“Of course. And is this your mate? Would you like me to update your file? Currently, you have none listed.”
“No.” How many times am I going to have to repeat myself?
“Just a friend,” Connor says. He’s giving me a weird look.
“Very well. Dr. Kanata will be in shortly.”
The nurse leaves, and Connor turns to me. “The staff doesn’t know your mate passed away? It seems awfully insensitive of them.”
I shrug. “Only Kanata knows. I didn’t want the information leaking and the alpha’s family coming after me like I was a widow to a son I never met.”
I sit on the papered exam table, and Connor takes the guest chair.
It all feels a little too real. Like in another version of our lives, Connor and I were here without the false pretenses.
Freshly mated and in for a simple checkup, or maybe something more.
Post-mating bite care? Birth control? Pregnancy?
“What do you expect to come of all this?” I ask.
“You’re getting off supps. You’re going through a heat. You will find an alpha, or you will fuck your hand and a knotted dildo, and it will hurt, and you will ache, but you will be alive at the end of it, damnit.”
I swallow and squeeze my thighs together. Well then.
Thank god I’m not in the little paper vagina-checking gown, or he’d smell my reaction to that.
The phlebotomist stops in to take a few vials of blood, cutting the tension between us. When Kanata finally knocks and enters thirty minutes later, her eyes snap to Connor and widen. To her credit, she recovers quickly and slips on a smile.
“Connor Masters. I haven’t seen you since Mac’s fiftieth. You’re even taller now.”
“Hi, Dr. Kanata. Thank you for getting us in so quickly.”
Kanata nods. “And what capacity are you accompanying Ms. Crane in today?”
“As a friend.”
“I see.”
Her eyes skirt to me, and I give her a subtle nod. I wonder if it’s against her code of ethics or not to blow my cover.
Kanata sits down on her whirly stool.
“First things first. I always ask when my patients bring a guest. Would you like Mr. Masters to remain in the exam room?”
I swallow, my gaze darting to Connor’s. His dark brown eyes are stormy.
“He can stay.”
“Alright. What can I do for you, Alanna? My nurse tells me you asked to have your levels drawn. Are you experiencing new symptoms?”
My throat is thick and sticky. I glance at the glass jar of tongue depressors. “I—I’m out of suppressants.”
The light of the computer screen reflects off Kanata’s glasses as she glances at it.
“Your next refill’s not for two weeks. Has something been going on?”
My eyes flick to Connor’s and back. “I’ve had to take more to keep my heat at bay, lately.”
Kanata nodded. “Such things can happen.”
“That’s not all,” I force out. “I’ve been using black market suppressant shots, too. My prescription isn’t enough anymore.”
Kanata’s brows raise above the rim of her glasses. “I see. You’re aware that you’re on the maximum prescribable dose already?”
I grit my teeth.
“I’m aware.”
“She hasn’t had a heat since she matched with her alpha,” Connor says.
Kanata doesn’t even flinch.
“Does Mr. Masters know the circumstances of your first heat?”
“He knows I was alone.”
Kanata lowers her glasses. They hang from a beaded chain around her neck.
“How much have you been taking?”
When I give the dosage, Kanata pales slightly.
“That is highly inadvisable, Ms. Crane. What side effects do you experience? Migraines, insomnia, nightmares?”
I duck my head. “All of the above. “
Connor curses.
“My supplier is reputable. I’ve been as careful as possible?—“
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me. To be frank, I already suspected as much, given your lab results.”
I freeze. “What?”
“Your hormone and pheromone levels aren’t consistent with an omega that has undergone heat recently. And they’ve remained so the entire time you’ve been in my care.”
I gape at her. “You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“But you never said.”
“I cannot control what my patients do in their private lives. I warned you of the risks. I assumed you were operating within that knowledge.”
Connor is gripping the arm of his chair like it owes him money.
“Are you serious?” he growls. “You knew and did nothing?”
Kanata sighs. “You are still in school, Mr. Masters, so I don’t expect you to know this yet.
But in my experience, forbidding a patient from doing something does little good.
I’m her doctor, not her parent or her priest. I discussed the risks of black market drug use and prolonged heat abstinence with Ms. Crane regularly. ”
“So you handed her a fucking pamphlet and sent her on her way.”
Connor’s pheromones start to clog the room. I try not to breathe through my nose.
“Calm yourself, alpha, or you will be asked to leave.”
“I ought to report you to the board, Kanata. This is highly unethical?—”
“You’re welcome to, Mr. Masters. I’m sure whatever medical schools you apply to will love to see that on your background check.
But first, do try and understand that a patient using black market suppressants and continuing to see their doctor is better than one shamed or chastised into not coming, but continuing to abuse.
The version where I can keep tabs on your friend’s health is the preferable outcome, don’t you agree? ”
Connor’s jaw chews.
Someone knocks on the door and enters to hand Dr. Kanata a printout, and I silently applaud her timing.
“Your labs,” Dr. Kanata says. “How long since you’ve used, Alanna?”
“A week or so. And I finished my prescription yesterday.”
“And she will not be getting more,” Connor says.
Dr. Kanata scans the page, then flips to the next.
“At this point, a heat is inevitable. Your blood already has all the markers that signify the process has begun. To attempt to stop it now would be futile, and likely just make the ordeal more painful for you. As always, my clinic has connections with several reputable heat centers. They are professional and discrete.”
“I’ve heard they’re sedating omegas who request it now,” I say.
Connor scoffs.
“An experimental technique. And not one I can refer you for, I’m afraid. Your heat will be too unpredictable to qualify for that kind of treatment, this time.”
“You need to cancel her prescription. She’s abusing?—”
“Mr. Masters, I know you care for Alanna, but I’ll thank you not to tell me what I need to do with my patient.”
“How long do I have?” I ask.
“I can’t say exactly, but certainly before the month is out.”
“And my prescription?”
“You can fill it in two weeks, if you wish. But taking them will only make your heat harder. There’s no stopping this.”
She shifts her stool towards Connor. “Are you on suppressants, Mr. Masters?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“You’re right. I only ask because, if your scents are compatible, Alanna’s approaching heat could begin to affect you. I thought it best to warn you.”
“Our scents aren’t compatible. I would know.”
My stomach dives.
Kanata gives him a thin smile. “Of course.”
She stands and pulls an open-backed medical gown from a cabinet and hands it to me. “I need to do a vaginal exam, if you could get changed. I’ll be back in five minutes.”
When the door shuts behind Kanata, I slump back against the propped up exam table and let out a long sigh.
“Fuck.”
“It’s for the best, Birdy. It might not seem like it now?—”
I toe off my shoes and begin unbuttoning my jeans.
Connor jerks to his feet. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”
“I could use your help tying?—”
“ No .”
The rejection stings. Connor stalks outside. I finish changing, and Kanata returns.
She pulls the stirrups out from the exam table and snaps on a pair of gloves.
“My staff warned me you were with a male alpha, but I was hardly expecting Connor. What's happened?”
“He transferred back to Crestwood. It was a surprise to me too. Then he found out I was on suppressants.”
“But he doesn’t know he’s your mate?”
“No.”
“And you’ve been spending time around him?”
I nod.
“You should have called me as soon as this happened."
She warms the speculum and lubes it up.
“Feet up and slide your butt down.”
Kanata scoots her stool between my legs and switches her headlamp on. The lamp light peering beneath the hem of my gown makes me think of a miner about to go excavating.
“You’ll feel my hands now.”
She palpates the inside of my vagina with one gloved hand, pressing down on my lower abdomen with the other.
"Any tenderness?"
I shake my head, then realize she can't see me from her position. "Nope."
"I'm inserting the speculum now. You'll feel a little pressure."
The speculum slides into me easily, aided by the lubricant and how wet my pussy has been lately.
“Do you have a plan?”
"Not really. I'm only just beginning to accept the inevitability of it all."
“Have you considered letting nature take its course?”
“There’s no way to have my heat with Connor without him finding out I’m his mate, is there?”
“No. As the suppressants fade from your system, your natural scent is going to return. He will know.”
"Then that isn't an option."
“I wouldn’t recommend another unpartnered heat. It could be a very traumatic experience, after last time. Whether it’s with Connor or not."
"I'll bear that in mind."
“Cervix high and open. Slick production as expected. Skin flushed, capillary action normal.” She rolls back her stool and peels her gloves off. I close my knees.
“The exam further confirms the lab results. You’ll be going into heat soon."