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I never want to see that doctor again. He didn’t rape me, but his invasive touches combined with the way he looked at me reminded me of the way all the betas would look at me during my heats. Like I was a coveted possession they finally had claim over.

I don’t want to give that doctor a chance to do any claiming of me at all.

My body doesn’t seem to get the memo that I’m alright, though, because the tears refuse to stop flowing down my cheeks. I swear, if it were a few degrees colder in here, they’d actually freeze to my face.

Fear suffocates me, clawing its way up my throat when I hear a knock at the door. I don’t answer. Anyone who wants to come into this room will come into this room, regardless of whether or not I give permission.

I guess that’s just how things work when you’re an omega.

The consideration and respect the guys gave me seems to be a thing unique to them.

That thought makes my heart ache even more.

I miss them. I just want to sink into their warmth, their protection,them. I want to get away from the rest of this cold, cold world.

The door opens and I hold my breath, freezing in place. As thedoor clicks shut behind the person who just entered, it becomes obvious to me that the person who just stepped in here is a man.

Oh god, I’m stuck here, practically naked, in a room with a man.

A man, who—by the strength of his nutmeg and cedarwood scent—is very obviously an alpha.

According to the sound of his footsteps, it seems like he’s stopped in the doorway.

“Hello?” He asks.

I take a chance and peek up and out from my hiding spot. The alpha is older, maybe in his late fifties, with salt-and-pepper gray hair. The cut of his jaw seems incredibly familiar.

His gaze finds mine and a shiver goes down my spine. His dark eyes are so intense that they make the twisting in my gut worse.

I instantly know where I recognize him from. He’s the spitting image of Archer. Or I guess, should I say, Archer is the spitting image of him.

This must be Archer’s father.

“What are you doing back there?” He asks, glancing around the room, a little shocked. “Where is all your stuff? I would’ve thought my son and his pack would’ve ensured you’d had at least some things with you.”

My mouth opens and closes as I struggle to find the words to answer. The presence of an alpha in my fragile state has my shaking growing worse. I’m starting to hyperventilate and my chest is growing tight.

“Are you alright?” He asks, taking a hesitant step towards the bed I’m hiding behind as if he wants to try and get a better look at me.

I don’t know whether it’s because he’s Archer’s father or because I’m just so incredibly fed up with everything that’s happened over the course of the past day, but I actually speak to him.

“N—No,” I say, wrapping the sheet around myself as tightly asI possibly can, making the flimsy paper gown shift against my skin. I don’t know whether it’s the noise of the gown or my answer, but I seem to have piqued the director’s interest enough for him to walk towards me.

He freezes when he sees me.

“The—The doctor took—took my clothes,” I grit out through chattering teeth. “And this room is—is freezing. The—The guys bought me things, but—but they weren’t brought here.”

“Fuck,” the director curses under his breath. “Who brought you in here and which doctor saw you?”

“I don’t—don’t know her name. The doctor’s name was—was Dr. Whittaker.”

“Noted.” His jaw clenches in a way that’s so hauntingly familiar if I weren’t all out of tears, I’d start crying all over again. Which is silly. Because the way this stranger clenches his jaw shouldn’t be comforting.

But it is. Because it reminds me of Archer.

And that reminder makes me feel just that tiny bit warmer.

“I assume you weren’t given any clothes after your exam, considering you were never given your things, correct?”