Page 12 of The Rejected Omega

“Birdy?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

Silence hung between us.

“I’ve got a test tomorrow. I need to sleep,” I said.

“A test? What class?”

I let out a deep, shaky inhale.

“Don’t make me do this right now, Connor. I’ve got to go.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, Birdy.”

After that, I learned to stuff down my feelings. To hide my longing glances. I would take him as a friend if that was all I could have.

I cried into my pillow about it a number of times over the years, but I adapted. Adjusted to the status quo. At least I had his friendship. That was enough for me.

It had to be.

I couldn’t let myself wish for more.

CHAPTER FOUR

I waketo the beeping of an empty IV machine. Sterile white walls. Crisp, starched sheets abrading my skin. The chemical scent of high strength suppressants and antiseptic.

I don’t open my eyes. I want to go back to sleep.

A door opens, and the scent of an omega female fills the room.

“Ms. Crane. I can tell from your heartbeat that you're awake.”

I open my eyes into slits, wincing at the bright light.

“Where am I?”

“Mercy Medical Center, in Canterfield.”

It was a private omega hospital in the nearest large city, about an hour outside Crestwood. Expensive, and they only took complicated cases.

“Why?”

The doctor flips open my chart.

“You were initially taken to the ER in Crestwood, then transferred here for treatment of acute bond sickness.”

I close my eyes and swallow, flashes of my time in the forest threatening to flood back.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“You were brought in with hypothermia. Extensive contusions and abrasions. Severe dehydration, exacerbated by going through a heat without the recommended fluids. We started you on a saline drip and intravenous suppressants, as well as some pain medication. You’re lucky to be alive. ”

“I don’t feel very lucky.”

The doctor continues scanning the chart and raises an eyebrow. “The person who brought you in reported this as a deep-set bond. You’ll need to see one of our mate bond specialists for continued treatment; I’m just a general practitioner. I’ll set up an appointment.”

“Fine. When can I get out of here?”

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