"Your scent glands are definitely more active than they should be on standard blockers," she observes, gentle fingers palpating the glands at my throat. "Tell me about your cycle history. When did you last have a natural heat?"
"Two and a half years ago." The admission burns with shame. "Before I started the blockers."
"And the blockers were prescribed by...?"
"The pack doctor at Iron Ridge. He said—" I swallow hard, tasting old bitterness. "He said my natural cycle was too disruptive. That I needed to be regulated for pack harmony."
Dr. Sylvie's hands still for just a moment, and when she speaks, her voice carries steel wrapped in silk. "Let me be very clear about something. There is nothing wrong with your natural cycle. Nothing disruptive about your biology. You were medicated for their convenience, not your health."
"But my condition—" The words tumble out before I can stop them. "I have this scent-bonding thing. I can't properly bond with a pack through scent marking like normal Omegas. I'm defective?—"
"Stop." The command cuts through my spiral with surgical precision.
Dr. Sylvie rolls her stool around to face me directly, eyes blazing behind those designer frames. "There is nothing defective about you. Nothing shameful about your biology. You have a variation in scent reception that affects approximately three percent of Omegas. It's uncommon, not abnormal. Different, not broken."
Tears burn my eyes at the fierce certainty in her voice. No medical professional has ever defended my biology before. They've always treated it like a problem to solve, a malfunction to manage.
"The blockers you've been on," she continues, returning to examination mode but keeping her voice gentle, "contain synthetic hormones that are frankly barbaric. Designed in the sixties by Alpha researchers who thought Omega arousal was a medical condition to be suppressed. I'm prescribing you natural blockers—plant-based, designed to work with your body instead of against it."
"Will they work with my... variation?" I can't quite bring myself to say 'defect' again under her sharp gaze.
"Better than the synthetic ones, actually. Your condition means you process scent pheromones differently, which is why the standard blockers are failing—they're targeting the wrong receptors." She types rapidly on her tablet. "The natural ones work systemically, supporting your whole endocrine system instead of just suppressing symptoms."
"What about side effects?"
"Some wooziness as your body adjusts. Possible hot flashes—what some of my patients call 'heat stroke'—as your natural hormones reassert themselves. You'll need to avoid sexual arousal for the first forty-eight hours while the medications stabilize." She pauses, glancing up with a knowing look. "That means limiting physical contact with your men."
"They're not—" I start automatically, then flush hot. "They're not my men. Or my pack. We haven't signed anything, there's no formal arrangement?—"
Wendolyn's laughter cuts through my protests like sunshine through fog. "Oh honey, no. Doc's got it right. They're absolutely your men. I saw how they looked at you yesterday, how they orbited around you like planets around the sun. And if you try to say they're available, I'll have to fight you, because I've had my eye on that sweet Austin for months."
"I'm their boss," I insist weakly. "They work for me. That's all."
"Uh-huh." Wendolyn's grin is pure mischief. "And I'm a natural blonde. Come on, Willa. Even Luna knows better, and she's barely crawling."
Dr. Sylvie clears her throat, bringing us back to medical matters, but there's amusement in her eyes. "Regardless of formal arrangements, you'll need to inform any... interested parties about the restrictions. I'm including instructions for them as well. No scent marking, no prolonged physical contact, and definitely no sexual activity until your system stabilizes."
She hands me several prescriptions, each carefully labeled. "This one's for the natural blockers. This is a mild sedative if the adjustment symptoms become uncomfortable. And this—" she pauses, studying me carefully "—is information about nesting supplies. You'll likely experience increased nesting urges as your natural hormones return."
I stare at the paper blankly. "Nesting?"
The silence that follows is deafening. Dr. Sylvie and Wendolyn exchange looks of pure shock, like I've just announced I don't know what water is.
"You don't know what nesting is?" Wendolyn's voice rises to a pitch that could shatter glass. "How do you not—what kind of backwards—those absolute bastards!"
"Willa," Dr. Sylvie says carefully, like she's approaching a wounded animal. "Did your previous pack prevent you from nesting?"
"I don't—" Shame floods through me, hot and choking. "They never mentioned it. Said I didn't need any special Omega behaviors, that I was evolved past all that primitive stuff. I thought nesting was just... like, a myth? Something from old stories?"
The noise Wendolyn makes is inhuman, pure rage condensed into sound. Dr. Sylvie's professional mask slips, revealing fury that could melt steel.
"Nesting is a fundamental Omega behavior," she says, each word precise as a scalpel. "It's how you create safe spaces, how you process stress, how you prepare for heats and major life changes. Denying an Omega the ability to nest is—" She stops, visibly collecting herself. "It's abuse. Medical abuse, psychological abuse, cultural abuse. Those bastards deliberately prevented you from accessing a core part of your identity."
My hands shake as I process this. Another thing stolen, another piece of myself I didn't even know was missing. How many other "primitive" behaviors did they convince me I was too evolved for? How much of myself did I let them erase?
"We're fixing this," Wendolyn declares with the certainty of someone who moves mountains for fun. "Shopping trip this weekend. We're getting you every soft thing in Montana until you figure out what your nest needs."
Dr. Sylvie nods approvingly. "I'll include some basic nesting guides with your prescriptions. And Willa? There's nothing primitive about taking care of yourself. Nothing shameful about being exactly what you are—a powerful Omega who deserves to experience every aspect of her identity."