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“No, no, we were checking for any physical indicators of why her heat is delayed, but there was nothing.” Dr. Benson looks at Tinley. “Which, as we’ve already discussed, is an excellent sign.”
“The bottom right is today?” Warrick asks, studying the graph.
“It is. As you can see, her levels are much higher than they were nine months ago. The hormones responsible for inducing heats, soothing pheromones, and fertility chances are on the way up.” He gives our omega a soft smile. My damn heart races. God, I hope this is a good sign. “I can’t make any guarantees, but I’m optimistic. It’s frustrating to me that doctors in my profession still use scare tactics, like they can fear-monger your system into responding in a timeline that makes them comfortable.”
“Yeah, I met a couple that made it seem like my life was practically over if I didn’t present before twenty-one,” Tinley says, snuggling back against Warrick’s chest.
“Hardly,” Dr. Benson says. “Ninety-eight percent of omegas present by age twenty-one, but that still leaves two of every hundred who don’t have their heat until later. Much later, in some cases. I see thousands of omegas a year that are in a similar situation.”
“Is there anything we can do?” I ask. “Ways to help encourage her system in a healthy way?”
“What he’s doing now.” The doctor nods to Warrick. “Your pheromones respond to each other. I can’t tell you how many patients no longer need me once they meet a compatible pack.” He chuckles. “Which is good. Put me out of a job. My pack wants me to retire, anyway.” He swipes an aged hand through the air. “Encourage her system by allowing her to soak up alpha pheromones directly from your skin. Cuddles and snuggles or nesting as a pack is perfect. Keep her stress to a minimum. Many omegas feel safest when they have a routine. It’s like in nature—certain animals won’t procreate if they aren’t in a safe environment. Think of it that way.”
“Will we need to see you regularly?” Ramsey asks.
“You can, but if you won’t be in the area, I can try to find some recommendations for doctors close to where you live. I would like to monitor her hormone levels over the next year if her first heat doesn’t begin by then.” Dr. Benson looks back at Tinley. “Truthfully, though, I wouldn’t consider medical intervention until much later into your twenties. Let your body progress naturally at its own pace. That’s my advice after forty years of experience.”
“Thank you,” I say, exhaling heavily.
“Yes, thank you so much,” my little omega says a little breathlessly.
I feel her out in the bond, and it’s clear she’s about to bubble over with excitement. A slow smile crosses my face. He just gave us an excellent excuse to make a new house rule. No-clothing-allowed cuddle sessions sound like fucking heaven.
* * *
OperationSpoil the Princessis in session. We spend most of the afternoon resting at the hotel, but I think we’re all getting a little claustrophobic.
We sweet-talk our omega into going out to eat, and Ramsey secures a reservation. She even agrees to wear the baby blue and silver Christmas dress. She’s saving the black one for New Year’s Eve. We’re doing the show, but only something like five songs. A couple of other bands on the label will help fill in, and from what I’ve heard, they’re huge names. I don’t see the fans complaining, but I am grateful. We have plans to wine and dine Tinsel after that show too. And we’ll be taking a flight to New England come the second of January.
The high rise has spectacular views of the city skyline and just enough of a relaxed atmosphere that I’m not worried it’ll stress her out. It doesn’t hurt that the table they sat us at is in full view of the small dance floor. Who knows how they accomplish it, but despite the freezing temperature outside, it’s quite warm, even with the door to the rooftop bar regularly opening and closing.
The meal is absolutely fucking delicious, but it’s that dress on my omega that has my mouth watering.
“If I give you my coat, will you dance with me, shortcake?” Ramsey asks while we wait for dessert.
Dammit, why didn’t I think of that? I glare at him like my eyes are laser beams that can make him drop dead where he sits.
“You mean out there?” Tinley asks with wide eyes.
“Oh yeah, they’ve got heaters. It’ll be chilly, but there are others out there. We can always come back in if it’s too cold.” He slides his chair back and grabs his jacket before heading over and offering her a hand up.
“She never technically said yes,” I mutter as they head off.
I’m not expecting the booming laugh that comes from Warrick.
“Give them a dance or two and you can cut in.” He grins, staring at the door to the outdoor terrace. “Maybe less if he forgets we aren’t in a club.”
“That dress is absolutely killing me.” I can only see the bottom and where Ramsey’s coat is open in the front, but she’s so damn beautiful as she smiles up at my packmate, it makes my chest tight. The jealousy hasn’t gone away completely, even with the pack bond. It’s just slightly more manageable.
“Life is good. We got hopeful news. You’ve got to relax,” Warrick says, pushing his plate back.
“That’s easier said than done. I’m still not happy they’re making us go through with the New Year’s Eve show.” I run my fingers through my hair. That performance is hanging over our heads. The last roadblock to finally being free.
“We’ve got this.” Warrick leans closer. “If she leaves our sight, then…” He shrugs. “It’s our last obligation. It’s not the audience’s fault, but I honestly don’t give a fuck. I’ll eat the penalty if the label tries to ping us with one, but I’m not going to stand around on stage, finishing out a song and wondering if she’s okay. I’ve got one priority—keeping her safe.”
“Yeah,” I agree, but I’m still not as relaxed as Warrick seems to be.
* * *
