Page 7 of Feeling the Heat: Part One
I wipe a hand across my sweaty brow and try to stop my breathing from speeding up at the thought of going through a second puberty at this age. When someone calls my name, I almost fall out of my chair as I flinch.
“Camille? We can see you now.” A burly nurse who looks like he could be an extra in a viking movie, aside from his light yellow scrubs, stands by the door that leads from the lobby into the rest of the clinic.
My legs shake so badly as I stand, I worry I’m going to trip in my heels, and Astrid rushes over to give me her arm. The viking nurse looks between the two of us with a slight frown. “I’m sorry, but only family or pack members can come back with her into the clinic.”
Astrid huffs indignantly, clutching my arm tighter. “But she needs?—”
“It’s okay. I’ll be okay.” I try to smile at her, but I’m sure it looks more like a grimace.
“I promise we’ll take good care of her,” Bradley says, and the nurse nods.
“Text me as soon as you have any updates. If you need anything, I’ll be here. And I meananything. I know you don’t want my coaching, but if you get overwhelmed or scared or…” She trails off and tugs me into a crushing hug. “You’re going to get through this,” she murmurs against my hair.
I let her faint jasmine tea scent that I can smell beneath her artificial perfume bolster me and squeeze her back, then pull away reluctantly. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.” I hope whatI’m saying is true.
She gives me a crooked smile. “I think this might be a good thing, if you let it be.”
“Easy for you to say,” I scoff. “You get to go back home to your husband and sleep in your bed instead of getting poked and prodded.”
“In more ways than one.” Astrid waggles her eyebrows and then bursts out into laughter as I scowl at her dumb joke. She knows I’d be laughing with her if I wasn’t so freaked out right now.
Astrid gives me another hug and then says goodbye. As I turn and let the nurse lead me to whatever lies ahead for me tonight, I sure as hell hope she’s right about this being a good thing. Even if I can’t see it right now.
3
I swirlthe coffee in my mug, frowning as I brace myself for the acrid taste. The fancy espresso machine they bought for the break room a few months back is on the fritz already, so I had to use the ancient coffee pot and a highly suspect bag of beans I dug out from the back of the pantry.
Jackson would give me so much shit if he knew I was about to drink this swill. My health-conscious packmate keeps telling me I need to cut back on my caffeine, but I’d like to see him work back-to-back shifts at the clinic without coffee.
I grimace as I throw back as much of the coffee as I can, burning my tongue in the process.
Ugh, that’s even worse than I thought it would be. The prospect of going back for round two is too unpalatable, even in my desperate state, so I sigh and dump the remains down the sink. I’ll have to power through the headache I’ll get from lack of rest and caffeine. It’s only for one night.
Night shifts tend to be pretty quiet, so maybe I can try to catch some sleep in one of the empty heat nests. I’ve already doused myself in the standard scent blocker required foralphas working in the clinic, so I’d be able to tidy it up again without making extra work for the cleaning crew. The problem is I have too much of a guilty conscience to take a nap on the job.
That same conscience is why I’m working an unplanned night shift. Dr. Janet was scheduled to work tonight, but her sister came into town for a surprise visit and I told her I’d cover for her. Never mind that I had plans with my pack tonight. They aren’t happy with me, but they know I’m a sucker for an omega in need of a favor.
I’ve always felt a pull to care for omegas beyond the typical instincts that alphas have. Probably has something to do with being raised by a trio of omegas who were abandoned by my deadbeat alpha bio dad.
I head to the bathroom to swish some mouthwash and get rid of the horrible taste in my mouth. When I catch my reflection in the mirror, the fluorescent lighting does me no favors, giving my beige complexion a sallow tinge and setting the ever-growing collection of lines on my face into sharp relief.
I lean in closer to get a better look. Are those even more grays in my beard? Damn.
I never thought I was a particularly vain person until I started noticing the passage of time on my body more keenly. Sometimes it feels like I blinked and decades passed me by. Or maybe it’s my midlife crisis rearing its ugly head as I creep closer to fifty.
Working at the clinic doesn’t help matters. I enjoy helping omegas get the medical care they deserve, and I love hearing success stories from my coworkers in the scent matching department. But it makes it impossible to forget that glaring void in my own life.
They say that a pack isn’t complete without an omega. I know logically that’s bullshit, having lived with my pack forthe past five years without one. But at my core, I’ve bought into the fantasy of life with an omega. Even after our past attempts at finding one were total disasters.
I crave giving the kind of care that omegas flourish under, and though I’ve tried directing that same care toward my packmates, they only accept so much before they start to bristle at my efforts. My job helps, but there’s a difference between helping a patient and lavishing your own omega with presents and pleasure. I’ve considered working in the heat services department to satisfy some of that need, but I know myself. If I share physical intimacy with someone, I’m bound to get my heart wrapped up in things, too. No one wants a lovesick alpha as their heat attendant.
With a half-yawn, half-sigh, I head out of the bathroom. On my way back to the break room to see if there’s anything else that I could scrounge together to keep me awake for the next five hours, Sven approaches with a clipboard.
“Got a drop-in patient for you, doc,” the Nordic beta nurse says, handing over the papers. “She’s in exam room 2.”
An unscheduled late night appointment typically means an unexpected heat. If they need to see a doctor, they must have some health concerns that could be impacted by the heat. Either that, or it’s their first time using the clinic’s services and they need the standard medical exam so that they’re cleared to use them.
“Thanks,” I say, looking down at the clipboard to go over the details of her case. I’m only at the patient’s name when I realize Sven smelledincredible. Like my favorite vanilla cardamom latte from that ridiculously expensive coffee shop near River’s office. The muscular nurse has already headed off, but as soon as I’m done with this patient, I’m finding out where Sven got decent coffee at this time of night.
