ELIANO
The funny thing, or maybe the tragic thing, is that the less anger and rage I sense in Salt, the more I feel his sadness, almost like a heavy depressive cloud hanging around him.
The next morning at breakfast, Salt sits with his head bowed over his tray, looking almost numb, his eyes empty, his mind elsewhere.
I try to make some small talk with Evan, but I can feel the resistance immediately.
Both he and Roman answer only sporadically, in monosyllables. I wonder if something has been permanently broken, if they think they cannot be friends with me anymore, that I am some kind of animal who beats people like a beast, nearly killing them.
I look around at the others. They all avoid our gaze. We are like lepers, socially excluded.
By the very end of breakfast it gets even worse.
Evan suddenly clears his throat and says, "Listen, tomorrow there is a farewell breakfast for Jeff and Shane. They asked me to pass along a request that they would prefer if you and Salt did not attend."
I stare at him for a moment, not quite processing it yet. Even Salt lifts his head from his tray and looks at Evan, who bites his lip like he’s not sure how to act.
"Okay, no problem. I cannot say I don’t understand," I add with a bitter edge to my voice.
Salt says nothing. He lowers his head again.
After breakfast we leave the dining hall together, heading toward Dr. Lee’s office, and Salt mutters,
"Looks like we’re not exactly welcome here anymore. Sorry I got us iced out."
I shrug and reply, "Well, why worry about it? This is not a place for us anyway, not forever, right?" I mutter grimly.
Salt’s eyes, one light gray and the other almost black from that huge pupil, rest on me for a moment. I am sure he is about to fire back with something sharp, but he says nothing, just drops his gaze again and we continue down the corridor.
Eventually we step into the office where Dr. Lee is already waiting.
His smile, that standard smile of people from Sector C, greets us at the door. I find myself wondering whether all these people trade gossip about what happened, or whether the doctor simply does not care because he has his own little domain to tend to.
"How is your stay on the island so far? Has it been… pleasant?" he asks with a saccharine smile.
"The impressions are mixed to say the least," Salt replies, returning an equally oversweet smile.
"Oh, I am sorry to hear that, but perhaps the situation will improve with time. These things sometimes require a bit of patience."
Salt grimaces, and I feel a strange sense of relief seeing him irritated again. I think I actually prefer him sour and prickly rather than sunk in that heavy sadness.
"So then, we will draw blood first and then proceed with the examination," he says, keeping his tone light.
"Do you need a bit more time to prepare? I have a few emails to send, if so," Dr. Lee adds, with that particular expression that leaves no doubt about what he is insinuating.
"Maybe just a moment," Salt says, which surprises me a little, but I go along with it.
After the blood draw, the doctor sits down at the analysis machine, turning his back to us.
Salt undresses and settles onto the red examination chair with a strange grimace on his face. I know what to do and take my place between his legs.
Our eyes meet. Then he speaks so softly that only an alpha ear could catch it.
"Will you take care of my little star?" There is something sweetly teasing in his gaze that makes my breath hitch. "Will you help it get ready?"
"Of course," I answer on a breath, my eyes dropping to his spread legs.
His pucker looks even more like what omegas have at the start of heat, at least from what I’ve seen online. But I’m not going back to that topic. Salt seems strangely determined to ignore the changes in his own body, and frankly, I’m not in a hurry to analyze them either.
A moment later I lower myself and gently massage his puffy, vividly burgundy-pink ring with my tongue. He lets out a small gasp. But this time, his muscles relax much faster.
Soon I am working my tongue deeper, and shortly after that I can switch to using the ultrasound probe. The tissue really is much more yielding this time around.
Dr. Lee is clearly fully aware of what is happening. He waits until Salt is ready, then comes over and takes his seat.
The second his gaze lands on Salt’s opening, I catch a strange, quick flicker in his eyes, like it genuinely caught him off guard.
"Have you noticed any changes lately in… how you’re feeling?" he asks vaguely, his tone careful.
Salt shrugs, without looking at the doctor, then tells an obvious lie,
"No. Nothing."
Dr. Lee doesn’t comment. He picks up the probe and guides it toward Salt’s uterus.
He studies it on the screen for a long moment. Then he drags another image over, overlaying it on the current view. From what I gather, he seems to be comparing the size of Salt’s uterus today with that of the previous visit.
Even I can see it looks bigger, maybe by half an inch. But what does it mean?
Strangely, Dr. Lee stays silent, offering no comment, which is… puzzling.
"I will take a mucus sample now," he says calmly, pulling out a long white swab.
I notice a flicker of unease on Salt’s face when Dr. Lee takes the swab and walks back toward the machine.
He slides out a device resembling a microscope.
"You can get dressed now, Salt."
Salt dresses quickly, and we both sit down in the chairs by the desk with the laptop.
Several minutes pass in silence as the doctor analyzes the sample. Then, with a carefully neutral expression, he turns to us and stands.
"Am I correct in assuming you two have not had intercourse yet?"
I see Salt’s mouth tighten into a thin line, his hands resting on his knees curling into fists.
"We haven’t."
The doctor frowns.
"That is unfortunate. It would be a shame to waste such good momentum. I am very pleased with the changes in your mucus. Certain features have appeared that may indicate a hormonal shift," he adds the latter with a peculiar tone.
Feeling slightly pissed off for no particular reason, I shoot, "What kind of shift?"
Dr. Lee lifts his eyebrows slightly.
"It resembles a pre-heat phase, but with a beta, we must be cautious in our interpretation.
In such cases, this type of mucus can persist for months without an actual heat occurring.
Since Salt naturally has slightly elevated hormone levels, placing him in a borderline category of betas with omega characteristics, I cannot give you a definitive answer as to what is going on without a full hormonal workup. "
Salt’s face is pale.
"So you don’t know what’s going on?" he asks quietly.
Dr. Lee sighs.
"No. But I strongly insist that you begin intercourse as soon as possible.
This is a priority matter. Please take my words very seriously.
In cases like yours, we usually prefer to press forward.
Any delay or hesitation can disrupt the awakening process and put you in a position of…
" Dr. Lee clears his throat lightly, "facing potential complications. "
"What exactly do you mean by complications?" Salt’s entire body is radiating tension.
"Well, we have very strict guidelines in situations like this. We cannot afford to waste an opportunity such as yours, so we sometimes decide to apply additional stimulation."
The follow-up to what the doctor said almost hangs heavily in the air, and makes both Salt’s and my pulses race.
"Just say it plainly. Do you mean Drax?" Salt snaps.
I see the doctor make a minimal, almost imperceptible twitch. With visible effort, he composes himself, his fingers tightening around his pen as his gaze shifts to the laptop screen.
"I don’t know what you mean by this." His tone is extremely careful. "Besides, such matters are beyond my direct authority. I only provide medical reports. There is a board on the island that evaluates cases like yours and makes decisions."
A wave of heat rises quickly inside me.
"Say it. Would Salt be forced to have sex with another alpha?"
Dr. Lee does not answer immediately, which only proves he indeed knows what is going on here. Then he says,
"I’m not suggesting anything. Nobody is forced to do anything here. Simply put, if a person doesn’t want to follow the program rules, they are free to leave. What I want to do is ask you a question: do you intend to have intercourse with Salt within the next few days, or not?"
Wow, that sounded like a thinly veiled threat.
I scoff. "This is coercion! We are both virgins! What if we’re not psychologically ready? What if we want our relationship to develop naturally, without rushing, and certainly without a threat of rape disguised as medical necessity hanging over Salt?"
Dr. Lee still does not look at me, his eyes fixed on the laptop screen.
"As I said, I do not set the protocols. The cost of supporting a single pair on the island is very high.
We want participants who cooperate, not those who just want to take advantage of free accommodations.
We have imposed procedures we must follow.
If we allow opportunities like yours to go to waste, the program risks losing funding. "
"You dress it up in medical jargon, but we all know what lies beneath it."
The doctor snorts softly.
"May I remind you, Salt committed a crime.
Sector C is not a wellness retreat, but in essence, a correctional facility.
That said, there is no coercion in the strict sense.
At any moment, you may call Mr. Gessler and request a ferry.
Participation in the program is entirely voluntary, but once you choose it, you are bound by certain rules.
Otherwise, Salt returns to state prison. "
"Let’s go," Salt says through clenched teeth. He is pale and furious. "This is pointless."