Page 43 of Her Knotty Alphas

Doctor Mejia's eyes soften with understanding. "If you're thinking about Cady's case…well she didn't have ten years of semi-satisfied heats under her belt, Hannah. And she moved inwith them pretty quickly. Your body…" she sighs, turning to me and taking my hands in hers.

At this moment, we aren't just doctor and patient. She's the same woman who let me cry on her shoulder ten years ago, when I was told I wouldn't be able to take heat suppressants because my kidneys wouldn't be able to handle it. Who talked me through my options and told me there was nothing wrong with going to a heat clinic.

Omegas are emotional, hormonal creatures. As a result, where a regular doctor might tell you to go see a therapist, omega specialists are there for emotional needs as well.

Call it a one-stop shop.

"Your bodyneedsthis, Hannah," she says gently, meeting my eyes. "In my professional opinion, you should not be taking it slow with these alphas unless there is a safety concern. Your omega has been untethered for far too long, and now that she's met her mates, she's kicking up a fuss. One that could be detrimental to your health if you continue to ignore it. Your body could throw itself into heat in an attempt to get your mates to you."

"I get it." I blink away the tears, nodding my head. "I really do, it's just…there has to be a reason, right? Why all the other packs weren't interested? What if…" My eyes flutter shut, and a shuddering breath leaves me. "What if they realize it? What if they leave me? Wouldn't it be better to try to cut off the scents cold turkey and hope my body recovers instead of going through it worse later when they leave?"

"Oh, Hannah." Doctor Mejia squeezes my hands gently, and my eyes open, looking at her kind face. "The other packs…" She shakes her head. "I have no reasoning as to why things never progressed with any of the other packs. Unless…" She trails off, looking unsure as to whether or not she wants to say what she's thinking.

Huffing, I roll my eyes good naturedly. "Lay it on me, Doc."

"It's just a theory," she explains, "there is no research and no fact behind what I'm going to say. But…that boy you dated before you moved here…he was an alpha, correct?"

My brows furrow. "Yes…?"

"It's possible that the OMS packs instinctually recognized your connection to another alpha. Though, admittedly, I'm not sure how that would work unless the alpha in question was also your true scent match."

"I…I hadn't presented yet," I stammer, my heart suddenly pounding a million miles a minute. "There shouldn't have been any kind of connection."

"Your omega takes your cues from your heart, Hannah. This is all speculation, but think about it. You were still heartbroken when you presented, wouldn't it make sense if your omega always knew there was someone missing?"

Charlie…another scent match? That's impossible. I would have noticed at the party…except…no, I wouldn't have. I specifically remember being relieved I didn't have to scent his coconut and sandalwood signature.

My mind races, trying to think back to that night, trying to remember if I felt any sort of connection to Charlie when I saw him.

Of course I did. But that doesn't mean he's my scent match. We've always been pulled towards one another, like two magnets. Even if he is my true scent match, it doesn't mean anything.

It can't. He destroyed me.

I can't let him do that again. He's not allowed to just waltz back into my life like he didn't rip my heart out.

Leaving a concerned Doctor Mejia with the promise that I'll gather some of my pack's scent, I manage to make it to my car without any dizziness.

Shit.

Gods, I'm sureotheromegas wouldn't have this problem. What am I supposed to do? Text one of them, "Hey, sorry but your scent match is so defective she needs to be enveloped in your scents less than a week after meeting you"?

An omega whine climbs out of my throat as I throw my head back against the headrest and close my eyes. What the hell is wrong with me? Gods, no wonder none of the other packs were even tempted by me. I'm a mess.

There's no way I'm going to let myself go back into heat, though. No fucking thank you.

Sighing, I pull my phone out of my purse and open my contacts list. Noah had made sure I had his phone number before he left my apartment the other day, and has been sending me sweet good morning texts.

Noah and Enzo seem to both want me equally, but Noah has this….way about him. Like I could murder someone and he wouldn'thelpme hide the body—he'd do it himself so I don't get my hands dirty, then craft us alibis and tell me they probably deserved it.

With Enzo though, part of me is terrified of disappointing him. Maybe that's just my daddy issues talking, though. It has nothing to do with the fact that I climbed him like a tree this weekend and he hasn't tried to see me again.

It's not fair to Enzo, and I'm sure I'll get to know him better, but for now, Noah seems like the safest option.

Me

Hey are you home? Can I come over?

Biting my lip, I watch the three little dots light on his side of the screen. Hopefully he doesn't ask me why.

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