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Now that I’m awakened, it doesn’t matter that I’m not attracted. Her alpha dominance hits like a punch to the uterus—a sharp reminder of what my body wants and needs.
I shake, take a breath, and remind myself the woman’s mated and doesn’t have the right equipment to stop the inner ache. “Mostly feeling better. Less pain, but more jittery.”
“I think I know the reason for that.” She rolls up a stool, and my heart jump-starts at her this-means-business arm fold. “Which news do you want first?”
“Is there good news?”
She’s silent.
Right. “Just tell me.”
“This is your latest bloodwork.” Doctor Morgan tugs over a stand monitor, pulling up a screen full of spiky red graphs you don’t need a medical degree to understand. “You have at most a month before your next heat. More likely, it’ll hit within the next two weeks.”
My pulse rockets to a nasty conclusion.
That’s too fast.
Too soon.
Too many decisions I have to make, and I’m not ready to go through that pain.
Not again.
“There’s more.”
I bite back the desperate whine coiled and ready to spring up my throat. “What else?”
“At this pace, you may be looking at a permanent monthly heat.”
Monthly!
A monthly fucking heat!
My last heat was so painful I wanted to die.
“I can’t,” I croak like an asthmatic frog.
I thought I had time.
Not a lot of time, but at least a couple months to pretend to get my shit together.
“Calm down,” she says in a meant-to-be-soothing alpha tone that couldn’t be more condescending.
What the fuck is there to be calm about?
“We’ll find you a pack that can take care of your needs. You have options.”
Do I though?
I need alphas NOW.
Instead of months, I have days to figure out my life or risk another round of searing pain.
“Your mates—”
“Rejected me.”
“I won’t pressure you to accept them.” She lifts her hands. “But have you contacted your guardian?”
