Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
RIANN
It has no fucking business being this cold.
The weather app on my phone says the temperature has dropped two degrees since yesterday, and it’s expected to go even lower tonight.
Knowing it’s probably not wise to push my luck—and risk Skylar’s job a second time—I dress in something much more practical for the weather.
Fleece-lined leggings and a sage green sweater dress.
Too nervous to order breakfast, I take my time doing my makeup, hoping Skylar will approve.
Red lips, winged liner, and mascara that makes my blue eyes pop.
Then, I pull on my favorite ankle boots and sling the strap of my cross-body over my head before leaving for the Buchanan Center.
I’m shaking with nerves by the time I check in and take a seat in the waiting area. I’m so eager to see Skylar again, especially since she had to cancel last night. It was disappointing, but I have to be understanding. She’s a doctor; it was probably some emergency that kept her away.
Still, the tiniest part of me worries that she regrets what happened in her office. That she regrets staying the night and waking up with me yesterday. Not knowing is the worst part, and I’m drowning in questions.
What if she changed her mind? What if she decided she wants it to be a one time thing? What if she doesn’t want to see me again but has to because I’m her patient?
Nausea turns my stomach; I don’t remember ever being so anxious.
The seconds drag by as I wait, and I’m doom scrolling on my phone when my name is finally called. My head snaps up, and I’m expecting to see a nurse waiting for me, but Skylar is there instead, a folder in her hands.
She’s wearing a maroon button-up that looks incredible against her tan skin and a striped tie beneath her open lab coat. The hint of a smile lifts the corner of her mouth, and my heart is instantly in my throat.
I snap to my feet, confused, but overjoyed to see her. Gaze locked on her gorgeous face, I take a few shaky steps forward, and that’s when I see the bags under her eyes.
She looks fucking exhausted.
I open my mouth to ask what the hell happened, but I glance at the secretary’s desk and stop myself.
Even though she looks busy, I wouldn’t put it past her to eavesdrop.
Older women love to gossip like that. Questions are burning up my throat, curiosity spiraling out of control, but I’ll wait until we’re alone to ask Skylar anything.
Thankfully, she answers one of the questions as I pause in front of her. “My nurse called out this morning, so I’m on my own until lunch.”
Damn, she even sounds tired.
I tug my bottom lip between my teeth and follow her in silence as she leads me down the hall, her scent teasing my senses. It’s not nearly as strong as the first time I saw her, but the relief it provides is instant. The tension in my muscles fades, a warm, calming feeling settling over me.
I didn’t realize just how badly I needed to see her…
She’s silent as we walk, which only adds to my anticipation. Is she acting? Or does she really not want to talk to me? I almost expect her to lead me back to her office, but she makes a left and takes me to an empty exam room.
I step inside first, pausing in the middle of the space while she closes the door, tension skyrocketing the second the handle clicks into place. Our eyes lock, a beat of strained silence hanging between us, before she gestures to the exam table.
“Have a seat, Riann.”
I swallow hard, her flat tone crawling under my skin. It’s unsettling and hardly sounds like her at all.
Stubbornly, I refuse to move. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong with you. Did you not sleep last night?”
A forced smirk curls her lips. “Barely. I had a lot on my mind.”
My throat tightens, wondering if it has to do with me or something else. Doubt and worry fester inside me, and I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“I promise, I’m fine,” she assures me.
I’m not sure I believe her. Something is off about her tone, and after she called to cancel last night…
“Are we pretending nothing happened?” I dare to ask. “Because if that’s what this is about, you can just tell me—”
“No, it’s not, but we can talk about us later.” Skylar motions more urgently to the exam table. “Please sit. We have more important things to discuss.”
Dread sinks through me like a stone.
More important things than us? My throat tightens.
Obviously, whatever happened between us didn’t mean as much to Skylar as it did to me. There isn’t a single thing on this planet more important to me right now than figuring out what the hell is going on between us.
Are we together? Fuck buddies? Strangers with benefits? Granted, this is all new to me, so maybe I’m supposed to be nonchalant about it all. Maybe she’s done this several times before and that’s why she’s not wound up tight the way I am.
Fighting the urge to argue, I clamp my mouth shut and hop up on the exam table. Whatever relief I’d felt earlier at seeing her has been replaced by prickly reservation. She sits on the rolling stool in the corner, careful to leave space between us, which only adds to my irritation.
“What’s so important then?” I ask, losing my patience.
Skylar holds up the folder in her hands. “Your test results.”
“You finished sequencing the DNA?” My words come out slow, skeptical. Why didn’t she mention that last night on the phone? Unless they finished this morning.
“Yes.” She cuts off my train of thought. “This is why I couldn’t come over last night. I wanted to cross-reference what we found, and I didn’t think it was appropriate to give you the results in your hotel room.”
I stare at her, a flurry of emotions clashing inside me. Annoyance at her canceling our plans, excitement to learn if they found something new, apprehension at whatever new thing they might have discovered.
If the results in that folder are enough to make her distance herself, I’m almost scared to know what they say. Maybe ignorance really is bliss…
However, my curiosity only seems to swell as the seconds drag by.
“Well, doctor,” I say, steeling my nerves. “What’s the verdict? What’s wrong with me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Riann,” she says matter-of-factly. “But the results may not be exactly what you want to hear.”
My insides twist in preparation, bracing myself for whatever bad news she’s about to break to me. No wonder she wanted me to sit down.
“We took your sequenced DNA and checked them for alpha and omega genetic markers,” she explains, holding my gaze. It’s impressive how she can slip her professional mask back on when she needs to. “We didn’t find them, which was what we expected, but we did find something else.”
Her words are like a punch to the gut, and my shock gives way to more nerves.
“Something bad?”
“No.” She shakes her head and runs her long fingers through her hair. “Just different. I reached out to see if any researchers abroad had seen what I found. One of them had.”
My breath hitches, every muscle in my body tightening.
She found someone else like me?
I can hardly stand the anticipation; energy bounces through me, making me restless.
“What did they say?” I ask, unable to hold in my questions any longer. “Can you fix me?”
When she doesn’t reassure me immediately, my stomach sours. She said it wouldn’t be what I wanted to hear, which is that something simple like pills or a shot could sort me out.
Obviously, that isn’t going to work.
“It’s not that simple,” she says. “There’s nothing wrong with you, so there’s nothing for me to fix, Riann. I’d like you to read this letter from the research center in Rio de Janeiro. It’ll explain everything, and I can answer any questions you have after that.”
My chest constricts as she pulls a piece of paper out of the folder and hands it over. I take it with trembling fingers, giving her one final apprehensive look before glancing down at the page.
Dear Dr. Morales,
The symptoms you described are reflective of an identical case we saw about a year ago.
The patient presented with alpha and omega characteristics, but DNA testing showed an absence of both genetic markers.
We were unable to run any additional tests before the subject received a claiming bite, resulting in a designation change.
In this instance, the patient bonded with an omega. Whereas previously the patient presented undetermined, the genetic testing post-bond showed the presence of the alpha gene.
To our knowledge, there have been no other recorded cases of this condition, which we have named the delta designation.
Based on our research, we confidently believe that a delta who bonds with an alpha would become an omega.
If you’d like to test this theory by introducing alpha genetic material to that of the patient, we would be most intrigued to hear about the results.
Kind Regards,
Miguel Almeida, Genet. Méd.
I read the letter again, then a third time for good measure. The words sink in slowly, like molasses in winter, but my eyes catch on the same word every time.
Delta.
I can barely breathe as the word rattles around my brain. My pulse spikes, along with the temperature in the room, and it gets harder to force air into my lungs.
“Riann.” Skylar says my name, but I can barely hear her over the pulse pounding in my ears. I drag my eyes away from the letter, finding hers as I try to keep my nerves under control. “Are you okay?”
I nod my head numbly, even though I’m growing less okay by the second. “There are only three designations… how can I be something different?” The question sounds distant to my own ears.
“Because there aren’t only three. Not anymore.
” Skylar scoots closer in her stool, but still leaves a visible gap between us.
“That’s the wonderful thing about biology.
We’re always growing, evolving, but normally it happens over such a long stretch of time that we don’t see the little changes.
You’re proof of it.” She looks up at me, her dark eyes gleaming.
“You’re possibly the only person in the world right now who can choose their designation. ”
“No. No. I’m an omega.” I shake my head adamantly, refusing to accept this new information.
I know she’d never lie to me, especially because she’s a doctor doing her job, but this is too much for me to process.
Not only am I one of two documented people in the world with this condition, but I can choose what I want to be?
No. It’s too much. “I perfumed. I had a heat. That’s what I am.
An omega.” The words come out sharp like knives, but I can’t help it.
I know what I am.
“I—” I suck in a breath as my thoughts careen out of control. Is that why she’s keeping her distance and not acting like herself? Because I’m not an omega?
From the time we’re young, it’s drilled into us that alphas and omegas are made for each other. Betas have relationships too, but they can’t endure claiming bites.
Skylar is one-hundred percent alpha; there’s no doubt about that. Maybe she wants the perfect omega and not whatever the hell I am… which seems to be neatly summarised in black and white on the page in front of me.
“Riann…” she says, but I can barely hear her over the rush of blood in my ears.
I close my eyes, trying to get control of my breathing, but my hands start to shake. I ball them into fists to try to keep them from trembling, but it’s no use. My nerves are quickly spiraling, and I’m helpless to stop it.
My head spins, my stomach churns, and the only thing I can focus on is not passing out and falling off the table.
Skylar says something else—possibly my name—but I can’t hear her over my quickened breaths.
Cold numbness rolls through me, starting in my chest and creeping outward to my fingers and toes. I squeeze my eyes closed as everything fades away. The research center, the exam room, Skylar… they all dissolve to nothing as I’m swallowed by a rush of panic.