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“Yes.”
She makes a concerned hmm that sends my anxiety spiking. “We need to run a few more tests, but your hormones are likely to be erratic for the next few months. Since this heat wasn’t satisfied, we can expect your next cycle to be more intense.”
If the heat’s any more intense, it’ll have to take place in hell because that was already hot as Dante’s fucking inferno.
“Do I have to have visitors?” I ask.
“Absolutely not.”
I let out a heavy breath. “Can you stop them from coming? I need...space.”
“It’s done.” She pats my hand, and my bandaged eyes throb with unshed tears. “Rest. I’ll send in a nurse to check your bandages. No one else will bother you.”
When the door opens, a wave of noise bursts in. All familiar voices.
“Is she—?”
“You can’t—!”
“We’re her—”
I sigh with gratitude to whoever soundproofed this place, because as soon as the door clicks shut, I’m left in silence.
I need so much time and space away from Wyvern Pack, but their scents linger like proof that I’ll never escape my fate.
I don’t want to make big decisions when I hurt so bad. Plus, the buzz that has flowers blooming behind my bandages says Doctor Morgan has me on the good drugs.
All I know for sure is I’m done hiding.
The world knows I’m an omega, and my scent’s going to have more than one pack begging for a taste.
I don’t know if I can escape Wyvern Pack.
I don’t know if I want to escape.
What I do know?
I never want to hurt like this again.
And if the Wyverns want to beg for my forgiveness?
I’d better see them on their knees.
