Chapter 39 #2
“I’m going to run these down to the lab, and then I’ll be back,” she says, standing with the vials.
“Isolde, I want you to decide if you want your alpha here for the examination I’ll need to do.
It won’t take long, I just want to check for tears.
If there are any, I’ll stitch you up if necessary, okay?
If you can, fill out the survey, otherwise we’ll just go with the flow. ”
Marie leaves while Isolde processes that, and my girl takes a shuddering breath. She doesn’t seem dizzy, but more so really uneasy.
“What do you want?” I ask carefully, checking with Grant to see if he could find any orange juice.
“Ugh. I’m really sore, and sitting isn’t really comfortable for me,” she whispers. “I’m kind of worried about it.”
“Then I can hold your hand, and you can focus on me,” I say. “Or I can sing really loudly off key in your mind through our bond.”
“What?” she asks, looking at me as if I’m insane.
“Last time, you were worried that people wouldn’t be able to see your bite,” I say, shoving up my shirt sleeve. “We can make that a non-issue, darlin’.”
I point to the underside of my wrist, and wait to see what she thinks. Even in a button down dress shirt, a portion will be able to be seen at meetings. Fuck, by the end of the day I’m rolling up my sleeves because I’m just over the monkey suit.
Isolde rubs her thumb over my bare skin with a small smile and nods.
“Okay,” she breathes, bringing my arm to her lips and sinking her teeth into my wrist.
My cock thickens as the pain pushes into my bloodstream, and I groan at how good it feels. I can’t believe I’m going to have a boner in this room with what comes next, but it’s a biological function. I can ignore it.
Isolde raises her head with a large smile, and I clean her lips of any droplets of blood.
“Your turn,” she says, offering her wrist to me.
“Mmm, mine,” I murmur, biting down hard enough to break skin. The last thing I want to do is hurt her, and without the happy endorphins of an orgasm, it can be unpleasant.
Isolde hisses as the bond snaps into place, and I gaze intently at her as I lift my head, fixing her sleeve.
I’m going to serenade you so hard, I tease her, making her laugh.
I don’t care about looking silly, not when it’ll put her at ease.
Sorry, this place is locked up tight, Grant finally responds. I wanted to make sure I couldn’t bribe someone before getting back to you.
That’s fine. She doesn’t seem dizzy, I reply. Is Leila doing alright with Linus and Christian?
“Do you want to look over the form?” I ask her, happy when Grant confirms that Leila took her bottle and went to bed.
Isolde sighs, picking up the clipboard. She jots a couple of things down before putting the paperwork down again. I don’t blame her for being over this either.
Marie pops her head back in and instructs her to take off her pants and panties for the examination.
“Scoot to the bottom of the bed and put this over your waist, please,” she explains, stepping inside to offer her a paper sheet. “I’m sorry it’s such paltry coverage. I’m bugging the hospital to offer something better. It’ll all get bleached and washed anyway. I’ll give you a few minutes.”
“I’m staying, I can also let you know when she’s ready,” I add.
“You are good,” she says with a nod. “Thank you, I’ll be right outside.”
Isolde makes a face as Marie leaves, and I smile sympathetically at her.
I hate that she’s so vulnerable in this.
It’s different for men. We don’t have to undress fully for an exam, while women do.
I help her pull off her boots, leggings, and panties before tucking the paper sheet around her once she’s laying down on the table.
Kissing her temple, I send her a whisper of my love through the bond as I move to open the door.
Marie waits patiently outside it, turning as she sees me.
“I promise to be as fast as possible,” she says.
Nodding, I let her in and then stand by Isolde’s shoulder so I can hold out my hand for my girl.
Taking a breath, Isolde takes my hand, and Marie puts on a pair of gloves before settling at the end of the table.
The nurse glances at the form before her eyes widen, and I notice it takes her a second to compose herself.
I don’t know what Isolde said to shake her so badly, but it could have been literally anything.
Ophelia did not make things easy for Isolde in any way.
Knowing this is going to suck for her as the surgical lubricant also makes an appearance, I search my memory for a song.
For some reason, Frank Sinatra’s song about flying to the moon pops into my head, and I decide to go with it.
I sing loudly through the bond, and Isolde squeezes my hand.
Marie pokes and prods, and even though I’m sure she’s being gentle, Isolde turns her head to the side and closes her eyes in shame.
I know, baby, you can do this, I remind her, hating every goddamned second of this. I was wrong. I wish I had caved and left.
This fucking sucks.
I continue to sing to her as I watch Marie continue the exam. Isolde stiffens for a second, and I bend down to press my lips against her skin.
“How much longer?” I ask, struggling not to panic. A tear escapes my eye as I continue my solo in my head, but it devolves until it’s wobbly humming through the bond.
“Almost,” Marie promises. “No vaginal tears. I just need to check for anal fissures.”
If they weren’t already dead and roasting in a very warm place, I would hunt them down for that statement. Ophelia will never hurt anyone ever again. Isolde made sure of that.
Isolde makes a sound that shatters my soul as Marie presses her fingers inside her to check for fissures before she frowns.
“The area is really inflamed, but I think that’s because of the laxative you ingested," she says. “Having diarrhea for days can do that. I would stick to a diet of liquids and bread if at all possible. There’s some torn areas that I can feel, but that will heal on its own. I see no other issues, Isolde.”
Marie pushes away from the table and throws out her gloves before getting up to wash her hands.
“Dr. Royal is rushing the lab results now,” she adds. “It’s a slower night, so it shouldn’t be long, okay? You can get dressed, and there’s tissues to clean up with.”
Marie turns off the water and dries her hands, turning back to face us.
“I’m so sorry all of that happened to you, Isolde,” she says, taking a deep breath. “These exams are awful in any circumstances, but it doesn’t make these any easier. I’m glad you have people surrounding you to help.”
Marie throws out her paper towel and swallows back anything else she may want to say before she leaves.
“She was really gentle,” Isolde sighs, gazing up at me. “It would have been awful with anyone though.”
“I know, baby,” I agree, my hand on her back as she sits up.
“What made you think of that song?” she asks, trying to distract herself.
“There weren’t many channels that worked in my college dorm, but there was one that always ran older films,” I say, bending down to assist her in getting dressed again.
I leave her leggings and panties at her thighs, knowing that she’ll want to clean up, and then put on her boots since I never removed her socks.
Talking is helping my own volatile emotions, and I really hope Dr. Royal manages to keep things professional.
My temper is on a hair trigger right now, and I’m very likely to hit him.
Helping Isolde to her feet, I hold out the box of tissues as I continue.
“I watched a lot of old black and white films when I got bored,” I admit. “Frank Sinatra seemed to be in a lot of them. I guess it stuck with me.”
Isolde tosses out the tissue and fixes her leggings, smiling slightly.
Tears are drying on her face, but neither of us acknowledge hers or mine.
Opening my arms, I see the moment she decides to throw herself at me.
Holding her tightly, I decide that I’m going to keep her in my lap for the rest of this miserable appointment.
“I’m sorry I made you come here,” I mumble against her hair.
“I’m not,” she sighs, her voice muffled.
Tilting her head upward, she smiles ruefully at me.
“I need to know what’s going on with my body.
It’s part of what’s so terrible about my experience.
Ophelia and her people hurt me. It’s hard to face how much they did, but it’s the only way to move forward.
I don’t want to make anything worse by doing something that’ll exacerbate my injuries. ”
Someone knocks on the door, and I tug Isolde toward a chair to sit in my lap.
“Come in,” I call out gruffly.
Oliver opens the door, and I nod that he can come in.
“The doctor is headed this way with some papers. I want to make sure that we erase any digital hint that we were here,” he explains, sitting down beside us.
“You may as well have the guys come in too,” Isolde says. “We’re leaving as soon as we’re done here.”
“Thank god,” Grant says, coming in with Alesso. “Did I mention that I hate how hospitals smell?”
“He’s kind of a baby about it,” I admit, shrugging.
“I really am,” Grant mutters.
Dr. Royal knocks on the door before coming in and moving as far away as possible to stand in a corner.
“I don’t want to talk about what I had to do for these,” he sighs.
“Your white blood cells are elevated, which makes me believe you’re fighting an infection.
There’s nothing pointing to anything specific, so I’d suggest rest and patience as it runs its course.
Your body showed very low levels of the hormone that cycles you into your heat though. ”
Isolde makes a face, and I can feel her shoring up her walls. Yet, she doesn’t push me out. I can see Grant standing straighter as well, his eyes on our girl. She’s tensing in an effort to get through whatever she needs to say.
“Ophelia was obsessed with forcing my heat,” she says slowly.
“One of her hobbies was creating drugs to force people to do what she wanted. There’s anything from drugs to promote longer erections, to pushing alphas into dangerous ruts, and much more.
I took something before I was kidnapped that won’t allow me to have my heat medically forced, and though Ophelia tried her damndest, she failed.
Could that be attributing to the low hormone levels? ”
Dr. Royal breathes shallowly as he allows that to sink in, and I kind of feel bad for him for a second. While I’m sure he has seen some pretty terrible cases, Isolde doesn’t act like a victim. She’s not meek, though she is allowing us to support her.
Isolde doesn’t shrink from how terrible the world is. In fact, she faces it head on instead of hiding away. There’s no correct way to process things, but Dr. Royal is struggling as he comes face to face with evil that shouldn’t exist.
We couldn’t protect Isolde. She saved herself.
“Yes,” he rasps. “That explains some of the other things I’m seeing in your blood tests as well. Can you tell me what you took before the kidnapping? I’ve never heard of a medication to prevent a forced heat, and it appears to be permanent.”
“I created it,” I say bluntly. “I didn’t have time to test it, which will account for any kind of reactions she may be having since she was my test subject. I wanted to alleviate Isolde’s fears of going to the office with me. The security that’s meant to protect us failed the day she was taken.”
I accept full responsibility for this, especially knowing Paula let those men in. That’s none of his business, so I refuse to say any more. The need to do something normal led us to her being taken.
I know there can be arguments on both sides, and she could have been kidnapped at any point since Ophelia was gunning for Isolde. It doesn’t help remove the bitterness from what happened.
“That explains some things,” Dr. Royal admits. “It appears that the drugs Ophelia was pushing attempted to override it, but was unable to because it became part of Isolde’s genetic makeup.”
My lips part in surprise, as I wasn’t expecting that.
“Isolde, your body is going to need time as it heals, but eventually you’ll be able to go into heat. I’m unsure whether that’ll happen again in the coming months or years though.”
That’s not the end of the world since I hate my heat, she whispers into my mind.
I know how much she hates feeling out of control.
Heats aren’t the only part of being an omega in a pack, as she settles something in each of us.
I’m obsessed with my scent match as a person, not what she biologically represents.
“Marie explained her findings to me, and there’s nothing that tells me that you’d be unable to have a child if that’s what you want. She didn’t find any excess scar tissue either, which would be a concern if you did want to carry a child to term,” Dr. Royal adds.
He takes the next few minutes to go through the rest of her results, but outside of a pause in her heats, Isolde is healthy.
“Thanks, doctor,” I say, standing with my pack. “I apologize that we were—”
“Please don’t,” he says. “I am used to things delaying the patients Cian sends to me. I was being a dick. I’m deleting any evidence of you being here, as I doubt you want there to be any. All paperwork will be shredded, but I can send the lab work results wherever you’d like.”
Grant hands him a card with my professional email address on it, and the doctor takes it. I’m the only one who checks it now that Paula is in jail until someone from our pack can collect her. The betrayal still pisses me the fuck off.
“Thank you,” I say again, herding my pack out the door and down the hall.
“Are you hungry?” Alesso asks, watching Isolde closely.
“I really want a smoothie,” she grumbles. “I also have a pit stop I want to make before we leave Minneapolis.”
“Okay,” Grant says, brow raised. We borrowed a vehicle from Duncan so that we could come to this appointment tonight, so we have wheels. “How soon do we want to go home?”
“Home home?” Isolde asks, yawning widely. “I’ll be fine after I get some sugar into me, don’t mind me.”
“We’re always going to worry,” I remind her. “I wouldn’t mind going home soon after this. Maybe we can pack up and make sure the plane is ready for us by midnight?”
“I’ll make sure the pilot knows,” Grant says easily. “I really fucking miss our house with Isolde. It’s weird to say that, huh?”
“What do you mean by missing it?” she asks.
“None of us could walk inside there without you,” Oli says. “You’re our glue, Kitten. Nothing feels right without you.”
He’s right, for all the ways that we love each other, she holds the best parts of us. She always will.