Page 36 of Knot All is Crystal
After an hour of answering questions and several injections of the treatment that attempts to rewrite my genetic code, I’m finally cut loose.
Standing in the middle of the hallway, swinging my gaze in every direction to find my Omega, I must look lost because a doctor stops in front of me. He has slightly curly, dirty blond hair, green eyes, and smile lines. The Alpha has a friendly expression and waves his hand slightly.
“You look lost. Can I help?”
I clear my throat. “You work here?” Duh, Manny, of course he does. He’s obviously a doctor here.
But he doesn’t talk to me like I’m a moron. “I do! Icarus Knight. Where are you trying to go?”
“I’m looking for Crystal.” Her name rolls off my tongue like it was meant to be there, and I sigh at its taste. “I was hoping you could point me in her direction.
His eyes crinkle with a smile. “I can do you one better. I’ll take you to her. Are you a friend?”
“I… I’m her Alpha. I think?”
Woah, why am I saying this to a near stranger?
“You think?”
“I just met her in Dr. Talbot’s office. But… she smells like peppermint.” I swing my head towards him in fear. “Does she just wear perfume? Oh shit, did I imagine it?”
He chuckles and gently pats my shoulder. “She doesn’t smell like that to me, so the evidence points towards you making the correct assumption.”
Tension pulls my shoulders up to my ears. “Maybe this is wrong. Am I ambushing her at work? Should I wait outside until she gets off?”
“I think that’d be worse,” he answers honestly. “Scent matching someone at their place of business isn’t ideal, but you need to introduce yourself to her. Once you scent your match, as an Omega, without a regular dose of their pheromones, there is the potential to develop scent sickness.”
“Scent sickness?” A lump forms in my throat. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It doesn’t come up much because most people want to be with their matches from the moment they find them, so we don’t have much evidence about Omegas who keep away from their Alphas. And there are different levels of severity.” He stops outside a break room. “My Omega had a mild case. We treated it before it got bad.” He points at the wooden door in front of us. “She’s in there. Good luck.”
Swiftly, the doctor spins on his heel and walks away, leaving me staring at the pathway to my future. My hand shakes as I open the door and slide into the small room.
Crystal sits at the table directly in front of the door, her head whipping up when I enter. She shakes her head before burying her face in her hands.
“Not again,” she says sadly. “I can’t do this.”
Pain level: Eight.
THIRTEEN
“I can’t do this.”
As soon as the words slip out of my mouth, his body stiffens, and his face goes blank.
The Alpha is painfully handsome, with dark brown eyes and a mess of dark hair that falls into his eyes. He’s got a few days of stubble, as if he couldn’t be bothered to shave, and wears comfortable lounge clothes.
Mr. Ortega. My patient. My Alpha.
It’s strange that although I’ve seen images of his brain and can point out where his white matter calcifications are, this is the first time I’ve spoken to him.
“I’m Emmanuel, uh, Manny,” he says awkwardly. His voice is tight. “But I guess I should go. This was a bad idea.”
He has that same devastated look Maverick had. But here, Kieran isn’t breathing down my shoulder. He doesn’t have eyes on the Design Clinic becauseI’mhis eyes on the Design Clinic.
Maybe – maybe I can talk to him? Just once?
“Wait.” One word, and he spins back around and takes a few steps towards me. “I’m Crystal. Do you wanna sit down?”
