“Sir, the doctor is here,” Curtis said around the cracked door, giving Tobias time to disentangle himself from Quinn and seat her back on the couch.
An endless gulf of space put between them doing nothing to stop the disturbing litany of sensations, Tobias gestured for Curtis to show the man in.
Except it wasn’t a man.
A lithe young woman clothed in a tasteful navy pantsuit and an air of efficient competence strode into the room as if she was the final word before the Gods themselves. A flick of her elvish chin sent a stray lock of thick auburn hair off of an eye the stormy shade of dove feathers. The aloofness of that gaze took in the room’s occupants, showing not a hint of care to Tobias’ far larger body and the beginning of aggressive posturing before the doctor marched towards Quinn.
“Doctor Darrah Annan,” she said with an outthrust hand in Quinn’s face. The low, husky voice was a surprise from a woman not much larger than Quinn, but less so than the way she approached a mated Omega as if there were no threat from the Alpha now looming behind her.
On reflex alone, Quinn grasped Dr. Annan’s hand, a swift up and down all the motion that was spared for propriety before the doctor took a seat near Quinn.
“I understand you’ve had quite a bit of nausea, Mrs. Kahler,” Dr. Annan said as she popped open a large black case, a stethoscope drawn out of the shadowy depths. “Is there a chance of pregnancy yet?”
Quinn sat dumbstruck. Not only was Dr. Annan ignoring Tobias, but she was addressing Quinn. Not just as some wealthy patient, but as if she was a human being.
Not to mention it was the first time someone had addressed her as Tobias’ mate. It was strange to hear. Even stranger that the honorific was given instead of some version of a pronoun to voice his ownership of her, if she’d been named at all. Breath leaving her in a silent rush, she stared back at Dr. Annan.
“No, there is not,” Tobias answered, his presence crowding along Quinn’s side as a heavy hand dropped to her shoulder.
Whether it was to comfort her or to give a show of strength against the accusation, it grounded her.
“What other symptoms are there, Mrs. Kahler?”
“I’ve told you what her—”
“And I am saying that she knows her body and can tell me what else might be wrong, Mr. Kahler,” Dr. Annan said as she popped the stethoscope around her neck. “I do not doubt your knowledge, sir, but if you wanted a concierge doctor who would write a prescription and leave, I’m afraid I’m not that person. I was given to understand you wanted me due to my reputation of being thorough.”
“I’m always tired,” Quinn blurted into the thundering silence before it could explode around her. “Not just tired, but exhausted. I sleep for hours and I lose my strength with the smallest amount of effort. A few minutes with the kids, and I have to go back to bed.”
A tight line formed between russet brows as Dr. Annan scribbled on a pad. A jerk of her chin prompted Quinn to continue though she didn’t look up from the tight packed scrawl.
“I can’t keep anything down for more than an hour at best,” Quinn murmured, a tumble of her shoulder pulling away from the burrowing tips of Tobias’ fingers. Had he not known? “I throw up. A lot.”
“And this is only when you eat?”
“No, all the time. It’s just worse when I do.”
“Have you noticed any dizziness, inability to control your movements?”
“What do you mean?”
Dr. Annan glanced up from her notepad, eyebrows rising a fraction before settling back into a hard line. “Such as stumbling, falling. Unexplained twitching. Dizzy is self-explanatory.”
“Yeah, I’m aware of what dizzy means.” Quinn sniffed, an act of derision she followed with a plastered on sneer. Her usual desire to deride the person with the patronizing tone was missing, the caustic attitude plummeting to the earth amid a fiery spray of concern while Quinn tried to think. “I’ve fallen before, but nothing like twitching. It’s hard to get up or move, but when I’m that tired… Well, it seems logical. Dizzy, absolutely.”
“And this happens all day, every day?” Now Dr. Annan’s eyes couldn’t be described as anything as soft as a feather. Steely and cold, she inspected Quinn’s face as if it told her a wealth of information Quinn didn’t even know was present.
“Yes. It’s gotten a little better since…”
“Since…?”
“Since I…” Quinn exhaled hard, pale grays swirling up to meet Tobias’ for the briefest moment. Unsure of what made her do it, or why her hand settled atop his gentled touch that now cradled her shoulder, Quinn leaned into his heat as she turned to Annan. “Since I stopped the fertility drugs.”
“I want to run blood tests. At the very least, a general panel to check a few things out. I can give you something for the nausea for now until we sort out what is going on. I understand your primary doctors believe you’re sensitive to the fertility cocktail, but this is aggressive even for that.” Despite the bland, perfunctory tone, Dr. Annan’s voice was downright serrated as she turned back to her pad to finish scribbling more notes.
A prescription pad slapped against stylish slacks, the medication’s name a hopeless blur of loops and jagged lines that culminated in the doctor’s signature. Once the piece of paper was ensconced in Tobias’ hand, Dr. Annan began an actual examination. The stethoscope was freezing, but Quinn breathed in and out as directed. Blood pressure, eyes, ears, everything was checked as Quinn had become accustomed to in the sterile, frozen fields of the hospital wastelands.
The real problem didn’t start until Dr. Annan pushed Quinn’s sweater up to draw the precious blood from her veins.
