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But I'll still be able to feel their emotions, and they'll be able to feel mine. Anytime they're angry or sad oraroused, I'll feel it. I won't even be able to masterbate without them feeling it.
"My heat is coming up..." I whisper in horror. I don't want them to have a front row seat for those emotions. "Can I take a heat suppressant?" I sound desperate, I know.
"No. No suppressants. Your body has been drugged for two years, and the reason you're experiencing pain at the rate you are now is because of the suppressants you're taking. Your body is already in fix-it mode from the hallucinogens, but with the suppressants, it can't do the job so it starts going into fight mode. Your body thinks you're dying every time you take a suppressant—heat or bond—and it needs time to heal itself first."
"How long before it heals itself then? When would it be safe to start taking suppressants again?" I growl. It's a pathetic one, omegas don't have the fierce growl of an alpha, but it's still effective.
"With two years of non-stop usage... I'd say about six months before you stop feeling any effects, you've healed enough, and the drug is completely out of your system." Doctor Turner is slowly becoming one of my least favorite people. Not with anything she's actually done. In fact, she's been very patient with me, but I hate the words coming out of her mouth.
"I've been off them for three months already. You're saying I need to go three more months without them?" I ask her, needing confirmation.
"Correct."
"Okay. I can do that," my firm voice sounds convincing. I just hope I'm right.
* * *
I leave the doctor's office and stop by the coffee shop Jerrick already placed an order with. Pastries and coffees in hand, I walk out of the elevator and onto the floor of Pen2Paper Press.
"Just in time!" Jerrick booms the second I drop the box of pastries and coffee on my desk. "Come on, don't sit down. We have a pitch meeting with a potential new author, and I need you to take notes," he says, grabbing a cup of coffee and walking briskly by, leaving me to scramble to grab a notebook and pen and rush after him. We pass all the other administrative assistants on the way to the conference room, so I mouth and point behind me for them to go grab a pastry.
They all grin and nod, so I know they'll grab them while we're in our meeting. Jerrick enters the room first, and I can see we're the last to arrive. He's got the department heads from editing, marketing, and media already seated at the table, so I know whoever it is they want to sign, they want thembad.
I go to take my usual seat in the corner, away from the table, where I take my notes for the meeting. I'm the only assistant here since Jerrick is technically the department head of the department heads, and they only need one person to take notes.
I pass several men and women, but I stumble when I'm assaulted by a mouth watering aroma. My eyes dart around, searching for the owner of it, and they land on an alpha whose silky hair is several shades darker than my own brunette color. I lock eyes with her, and I get lost in the stunning gray depths.
Damn, she's gorgeous.Focus, Summer. You're in a meeting.
I drop my gaze from hers and shuffle the rest of the way to my chair with my head down. I focus on slowing my heart rate, then I open the notebook in my hands to the first blank page. Taking a fortifying breath, I look up, and the beautiful alpha is still staring at me. I gasp softly at the hunger and possession in her eyes. It makes my pulse pick up speed, and I can feel blood rushing to my face as I blush. I'm not sure how long we stare at each other before Jerrick starts the meeting, and I break our gaze again.
What's up with all the pretty people I'm meeting lately?
It doesn't matter though. I still technically have a pack, even if they weren't ever truly my fated mates...
That thought sends a pang of hurt through me. Even more when I realize nobody will ever shackle themselves to a mated and marked omega. Especially not one with all my baggage. They took that away from me, the chance to meet mytruematch or matches. So I'll have to ignore any feelings of lust. Like with the three sexy men at the bar, I'll just skirt past the lust I see in this alpha's eyes. A life alone sounds absolutely miserable. But it also sounds like the only plausible option for me at this point.
Looks like I'll be stopping for cookie dough and wine on my way home from work.
Four
Brooklyn
"I liked the last offer,"Dillan says from across the town car from me. Dillan Doherty is my client and is currently in the middle of a bidding war for the rights to his next book. We're on our way to meet with the third publishing house this week, Pen2Paper Press. They're not the biggest publishing house bidding, but that doesn't mean we should discount them from the jump.
"I know, but don't go into this meeting with your mind made up. Let's see what they offer, and then we can counter."
He just nods and continues wringing his hands. This is why he's one of my favorite clients. He's already had a best seller, and even after three offers for his upcoming book, he's still humble and nervous like it's his first. It's refreshing.
"Breathe," I instruct, grinning at him. "It's going to be fine. Maybe even fun." He huffs at that and looks nervously out the window.
I take the opportunity to check my phone. I have a few texts from other clients but a bunch from my pack. I roll my eyes when I see it's the same shit as it has been for the past week. They're all salivating over this omega they claim is their—our—mate.
I'm not buying it. How does an omega not feel when she meets her mates? No, I think the guys have a strong case of lusty obsession that is a direct reaction from their dicks getting excited over something new and shiny. Nothing more.
I ignore all their bantering and back and forth about whether they should go back to Ava’s bar and quasi-stalk her again. They went Monday evening, but she wasn't there, and they want me to go with them this next time to prove she's my mate, too. I'm not holding my breath.
The car pulls up to the front of Pen2Paper Press, and I slide across the leather seat to reach for the handle and let myself out of the backseat. When I'm out, I keep the door open for Dillan to follow, and we walk together through the glass doors and across the modern-looking foyer. My heels click across the tiled floor until we approach the dumpy looking man at the front desk, presumably security.
