“You don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to. We just want to know you’re okay,” Evander says softly.
“And help if we can,” Wyatt adds.
“No,” I murmur, shaking my head. “I want to tell you. I want you to know.”
I take another breath. “He was very professional. Thank you for calling him,” I start, glancing at Harlan. “He ran tests and went over everything with me. He’s… very certain that I’m severely touch-starved.”
The words feel humiliating and raw, but I force them out anyway. “He thinks the medication I was on basically sedated my omega, and because she was asleep, I didn’t feel the lack of touch. Like a broken leg under anesthesia. It’s still broken, still worsening, you just can’t feel it until you wake up.”
Kai immediately wraps an arm around me and pulls me close. “God, Rosie.”
I clasp my trembling hands together. “He said it’s very severe now. That’s why my omega was able to push through and take control outside of a heat spike. It was desperation.”
I stare at my hands until movement catches my eye. Logan kneels in front of me, his fingers gently tilting my chin up. His eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen them.
“I had touch deprivation once,” he admits, and the confession steals my breath. Touch deprivation in omegas is rare, but in alphas it’s almost unheard of. Whether that's because they don't usually suffer from it, or because it's vastly misdiagnosed is heavily debated.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. It sounds small and useless, but he gives me a sad smile anyway. Behind him, Harlan’s face twists with quiet devastation.
“My point is,” Logan continues, “I know a little of what that feels like. We can help, if you’ll let us. Or we can take you to a touch clinic if you’d rather.”
Low growls ripple from the others immediately.
Logan raises a hand. “Her choice,” he warns, calm but firm. “It’s up to you, Jingles. You can have whatever you need.”
A touch clinic. The thought alone makes something in me ache.
“If you don’t want to, I totally understand,” I say quietly. “The therapy sheets can get… personal. Maybe it’s better if I go to a clinic.”
The outcry is instant.
“Don’t want to,” Evander scoffs.
“Clinic my ass,” Wyatt mutters.
“Need your alphas for this,” Harlan interjects, dominance curling through the room like smoke.
Your alphas.
The words echo in my chest. My omega preens, greedy for the claim.
Logan doesn’t disagree. “I think I can speak for all of us when I say we definitely want to.”
He wraps his warm hands around my calves, grounding me. My heart stutters.
“Did he say anything else?” Kai asks gently.
Dread pools low in my stomach. “He isn’t sure what the drug’s long-term effects will be. My scent and sense of scent might come back… or they might not. Ever.”
Every alpha goes still.
“And—” My voice catches.
“Whatever it is,” Kai says firmly, pulling me closer, “we’ll help you through it.”
I swallow hard. “He said it might’ve affected my fertility. I might not be able to have children.”
The air in the room shifts.
