Page 78 of The Omega's Alpha
“Shit.”
He laughed and I hung up on him and raced for the shower. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I gathered my shampoo and soap—I was a mess. The makeup had smeared around my eyes so I looked like a rabid raccoon, my lower lip was swollen and I had a hickey at the base of my throat that could have been used to signal alien invaders. Ugh. Nothing to be done about it, I’d just have to hope that no one wanted any pictures.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Quin was worried about Holland. His mate was normally relaxed and held up his end of a conversation pretty well, but this drive to see the doctor in Kentucky had shut him down. “Hey, it’ll be okay,” Quin said and reached across the car to take Holland’s hand.
Holland jumped, then turned to Quin with a smile. “I’m sorry,” he said, and squeezed Quin’s hand. “I’m being boring.”
“You’re not, but you act like you’re in this alone. You know I don’t care if it turns out there’s nothing we can do.”
Holland smiled at him again and turned away to look out the window, though he kept his grip on Quin’s hand. “But I do. I thought I’d accepted it but—” He shook his head.
Quin waited for him to finish whatever it was he’d been about to say, but Holland stayed silent, so Quin let him be. They’d know more, maybe later on today if they were lucky.
They’d spent the night at the local pack, then were up bright and early for Holland’s appointment. Holland, who’d been told to come with a full bladder that morning, complained occasionally about the bumps in the road until the hospital came into view, and then fell tensely silent.
At the hospital, they were checked in surprisingly quickly, though their tabs got them some nervous looks, and they were the first ones in the waiting room at Bram’s doctor’s office. It smelled sharp and sterile, and the taste of chemicals coated Quin’s tongue. Holland was too nervous to sit and read, and he paced around the room, restlessly touching or picking things up and putting them down without really looking at them.
He had time to make one circuit of the room before they were called in to meet the doctor. When he heard his name, Holland froze and his head came up as if he was on the run and heard the sound of a larger wolf coming for him. Quin put his arm around Holland’s shoulders and steered him down the hallway to a small, white room filled with cabinets. He helped Holland climb up on a padded table, then stayed beside him. Holland clenched his hands between his knees and stared at the floor. His knuckles were white.
“Hey, it’s going to be fine.” Quin stroked Holland’s hair away from his face.
Holland smiled at him and rubbed his cheek over Quin’s shoulder, but he didn’t answer.
The door opened and a middle-aged human in a white doctor’s coat came in. “Good morning! You’re Bram’s friend, right? Holland? Interesting name that. I’m Dr. Stambourg.” He held out a hand and shook both of theirs. “Now, Bram says you’re having an issue, but that’s all he’d say, just that you needed to see me in particular, which I’m guessing means it’s reproductive. So, what can I do for you?” He laced his fingers together in front of him and waited with an expectant smile.
Holland glanced at Quin then turned back to the human and took a deep breath. “I’m barren.”
The doctor’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? And you know for sure it’s you? You’ve seen a doctor before?”
Holland shook his head. “No. But it’s pretty evident.” His tone was even, putting up a brave front for the stranger in the room with them.
“Well,” the doctor said. “If you’re here talking about being barren, you must be an omega. And my understanding of shifter culture, from Bram, is that omegas only mate once, so you really can’t be sure it’s you until you’ve both been tested.”
Quin felt Holland twitch and he reached for his mate’s hand. “Holland was mated before,” Quin said in as gentle a tone as he could muster. “And we’ve been through a season together and nothing happened.”
“Ah.” The doctor picked up a clipboard from somewhere—Quin hadn’t noticed the man bringing it in, but he must have—and made a note on it. “Well, that does make it more likely. But we’ll do an exam and see if we can figure out what’s going on. May I ask what it was that your mate passed away from?”
“He didn’t,” Holland said, and for the first time, Quin really heard bitterness in his tone. “Omegas that can’t have pups are defective and are returned to their families because they’re useless.”
The doctor stopped in the middle of writing something and stared at them. “That seems a little…extreme, especially for something that can probably be very easily dealt with.”
“We’re working on changing that,” Quin put in, and leaned down to brush his cheek against Holland’s.
“Okay, then, I’m going to need some baseline numbers for you. We’ll do some blood tests, and I’ll have a quick look with the ultrasound if that’s all right with you?”
Holland shrugged. “Whatever you need.” The tone of his voice was off, elaborately casual, and Quin started to wonder if this was all a mistake. But Holland sat quietly for all the measurements, never complaining even when the doctor pushed a needle into the crook of his elbow. And when that was done, he stretched out on the table and let the doctor cover his belly with a clear gel. It was all very quiet, and very unnerving for Quin. He’d almost rather be back in the thick of battle again, than to feel this heavy silence from his mate.
“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got in here,” the doctor said and pulled a boxy machine over by the table. He pulled something that reminded Quin of a paint roller off the side, flipped a switch, and soon the screen on the front of it glowed with a hazy gray and black image. “So, here we have your bladder and that blotch behind it is your womb.” He pointed at the screen with his free hand. “If I move the wand over here, we should be able to see—oh. That’s interesting.” He frowned and twisted the wand, digging it into Holland’s flesh just to one side of his belly button.
Quin leaned in to peer at the screen, but it was just shapes without meaning. “What are you seeing?”
“Now, I don’t want you to get upset about anything. This could be a perfectly normal anatomical difference—I haven’t dealt much with omegas. But if you look here—” He pointed to a spot on the screen, a bright gray blob next to a darker gray one. “This looks like an extra growth of tissue here, which might be causing some problems. We’ll check your hormone levels and see if there’s anything off there, but there’s very little literature dealing with omegas, particularly with their reproductive systems.” He tapped a button on the machine, then lifted the wand off Holland’s belly and handed him some paper towels. “You can clean up now, and I imagine you want to go to the bathroom.”
“You have no idea,” Holland muttered as he wiped the clear gel from his belly. He looked up briefly at Quin and smiled, putting at least a part of Quin’s nerves at ease. He did up his jeans and swung down off the table. As he passed Quin on the way to the door, he leaned in and whispered, “I had to piss so bad, I thought it was going to come out my ears. Not very romantic, I know.” He winked and kissed Quin on the cheek, then disappeared out the door to the bathroom down the hall.
The doctor appeared busy cleaning his machine, but it seemed to Quin that he was just trying to avoid comment. Except that Quin was Alpha and Holland’s mate, and he was going to have to pick up the pieces here if the news was bad. He expected the doctor would soften the potential for bad news while Holland was here, but Quin needed to know the truth so he could be ready.
