Page 17 of Bonds and Beasts

"So," she says, "let's talk about Adison." First she wants to know how long we've been together. Bello makes it clear we met a few hours ago, but keeps the details vague. That's smart, I know how active this town's gossip mill is. Not that Dr. Hollis would break confidentiality, but things get around in a small town like Star Harbor.

"Well, let's get to my diagnosis then. As I'm sure you all suspect, Adison is severely touch starved."

Easton swipes a hand over his face. "When you say severely..."

Dr. Hollis frowns, her eyes flashing with worry. "I mean severely. Her bloodwork shows her levels are dangerously low. With hard work and touch therapy, she should feel better and her voice should come back almost at once. But the shaking and the tendency to lose her voice under stress is going to take a lot of time."

"We have time," Dean jumps in, his hand sliding around my waist and squeezing me. "I have nothing but time for my mate." Whether he's assuring me, himself, or the room at large, I'm not sure.

Dr. Hollis smiles. "That's good. Now for the more concerning aspects of our appointment." She looks to me. "It's clear from the scans and tests that you have overactive scent glands. It's very rare, but it happens."

She pauses, giving me time to process. It's not the shock for me that she expected. My birthday celebration comes crashing through my mind and I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe to push it away. Dean and Easton take this as a sign of distress. Dean's hand smooths over my hair and down my back.

"Is there a treatment?" Easton asks. I've been putting pieces of the alphas together in my mind. Easton knows a lot of facts, makes a lot of plans, and asks a lot of questions. He wants information.

Dr. Hollis smiles and pulls out a stack of four or five stapled pages. "I'm glad to say there is." She hands them over. They have information and statistics about overactive scent glands. "Scent neutralizers," she says.

All of the alphas stare at her. Bello cuts in before anyone else. "Scent neutralizers aren't ideal, but we'll of course do whatever will help Adison."

I look around at the three alphas in my room. Scent neutralizers over their mate's scent would drive their alphas mad. It would probably drive my omega crazy too, since the neutralizers would make it impossible for me to scent-mark them. She's already so feral that the thought alone twists my stomach.

"Before you jump to the wrong conclusions, Adison's overactive scent glands mean that scent neutralizers aren't going to work normally on her," Dr. Hollis says.

"In what way, then?" Easton asks.

Dr. Hollis acknowledges the alphas when they ask a question, but her eyes stay on me. I appreciate that more than I'm able to say at the moment.

"Your glands are producing so much that when scent neutralizers are introduced, it will simply bring them down to normal levels for an omega. It's likely those ignorant of her condition won’t even realize she's wearing them. She'll still be able to perfume and signal and scent-mark. All important abilities to help with her touch deprivation too." Dr. Hollis then pulls out another set of papers, one for each alpha and one for me. "These are the best proven touch deprivation techniques to help treat her. They are in categories, from friendly to more intimate suggestions."

Heat climbs up my face.

I write out a question that's been in my mind since I discovered my scent was more dangerous than other omegas': Was I born with this? How did my glands become overactive?

Dr. Hollis's expression takes on that pitying look again. "No. Scent gland over- or underproduction is usually caused by an environmental factor, though it's often hard to pinpoint what that might have been."

I nod, and write. Thank you, doctor. Because there's really nothing more she can do. Dr. Hollis tells us we can pick up the prescriptions at the hospital pharmacy and that she's scheduled a follow-up appointment, which I'm grateful to notice Easton is already writing down.

My mind is swimming with touch therapy and medications and environmental causes. Bello takes a few more papers from Dr. Hollis and they exchange a quick conversation. Bello's eyes snap to mine and they look murderous. My stomach drops but Dean sweeps me toward the car and I follow him.

Adison

The car ride back is quiet.

What the doctor said about severe touch deprivation makes so much sense. I'd heard of it, of course. But I didn't fully understand it. I never knew anyone who had it. If it was brought up before I designated, my mother would have said, "You won't be an omega, but if you were an omega, you won't have to worry about those kinds of things. You're loved and surrounded by so many. Only omegas in 'different situations' suffer from touch deprivation."

She'd made it seem like it was avoidable, and only omegas who did something wrong or made bad decisions ended up touch deprived. Now that it's happening to me as an adult, I can see exactly how skewed that logic was. It didn't take into account any of the realities of being an omega.

Inside the hospital, Dr. Hollis had given the guys sheets with touch deprivation treatment techniques. I'd signed, consenting to treatment from each alpha, including Bello, before we left. But based on the fact that I caused a rut, I wouldn't be surprised if he never wanted to touch me. I wouldn't blame him either.

The moment I slid into the car, they didn’t hesitate. Easton arranged himself on one side of me, and Dean opened the opposite door and slid in on the other. Bello took the seat across from us.

Now, Dean has the packet full of grounding touch ideas in his hand, his eyes flying over it like it's the most interesting novel he's ever read. Easton, however, doesn't even have his. He may have left it in the hospital.

My heart sinks. Does that mean he doesn't want to know because he has no intention of helping me with treatment?

That's fine, I scold myself. It's not his responsibility to—

But it is. Because the doctor was adamant. The test results are airtight. They are my mates.