Page 98 of Mate
“Then tell Serena.”
“This is . . . delicate.”
“It’s also aboutherbody. I’m not the pack HR rep, but my guess is that she should know before me.”
“Alpha, I . . .”
Lines appear between Koen’s brows. Layla instantly quiets. “Here’s what’s going to happen: I’m going to walk out of thisoffice, and you are going to tell Miss Paris whatever she needs to know. Then, if she wants to, she’ll inform me of— ”
“It’s okay,” I interrupt. “I’d rather Koen stay, for now.”
“Koen,” Layla says, and all of a sudden, she sounds less like a pack member and more like a friend. Someone who knew Koen when he was young— who was youngwithhim. “You’re not going to like me doing it this way.”
A merry, careless shrug. “Then I’ll have to be a fucking big boy about it, won’t I?”
“I feel like I’m left out of an inside joke,” I interrupt. “Or like Iaman inside joke. What am I missing?”
Layla’s smile is reassuring. “It’s more what your other doctors missed. They were so concerned about the cortisol surges that they rightfully blamed your most extreme symptoms on them, but they missed the broader context.”
“Context about . . . ?”
She pauses, clearly sifting through words. Meanwhile, Koen looks as though he’s watching a show for the tenth time. Nothing that’s about to happen is going to surprise him. He could probably take over the proceedings.
What the hell is going on?
“You see, your estrogen levels are also noticeably past normal thresholds, but because of the existence of CSD, Dr. Henshaw and Sem assumed that the complex relationship between estradiol and— ”
“Layla.” I soften my interruption with a smile. “It’s very lovely that you don’t want me to blame them, and I promise I won’t, not for misreading the blood work of yours truly. But you’re saying lots of things that I don’t understand, and the suspense is killing me faster than the cortisol, so— ”
“Estrus,” she blurts out. “You’re going into Estrus.”
“Ah.” I nod.
Sit back in my chair, scratching my temple.
Gather all that I know about Estruses— Estri?— which is a beautiful wasteland of nothing.
“People without degrees would call it going into Heat,” Koen says, and the realization crashes into me like a caravan of armored trucks.
My behavior last night.
The dreams.
Koen’s . . . everything.
“People with degrees, too,” Layla adds shyly. “But it can be a charged word. I wouldn’t want to upset you.”
“You aren’t,” I say.Veryupset. “Is this a thing that happens to Weres?”
“Yes, it does. Usually in wolf form.”
“But I’m . . .” I point at myself.I’m not in wolf formseems a redundant statement.
“Breakthrough heats are not unheard of in human form, either. I’ve been practicing for about ten years, and I’ve had several patients like you, triggered by all sorts of things.”
“Such as?”
“Stressful events. Medications. The most common cause is close proximity to a sexually compatible partner.” It’s remarkable how impersonally she delivers the last few words. One would think she’s throwing out hypothetical scenarios, but I can see her hands rubbing under the desk. The fidgety bounce of her foot.
