Page 48 of Altius (The Scent of Victory #2)

Thirty

Morgan

T he color palette of Dr. Sethi’s office was as grating as ever, the fluorescent lighting turning the floral patterns into corneal abrasions.

“This is highly unusual.” She tapped her nails against the Redwing consulting agreement on her desk. “If I weren’t familiar with the progress of your research project, I’d be half-tempted to think our fellowship wasn’t enough of a challenge for you.”

“I wasn’t expecting this, Dr. Sethi. You know I take my work seriously. That’s why I wanted to meet with you as soon as possible to discuss it.”

“Yes. I’m aware of your positive attributes, Morgan.

Your…resilience. But the fellowship program has already made allowances for you.

Exceptions. Which we haven’t afforded to others.

” She pursed her lips. “I’m prepared to accept diminished performance because of your medical history.

But I’m not inclined to enable you to spread yourself so thin that you suffer a relapse, or whatever your preferred term may be. ”

Taking offense was useless. My health was unreliable, even on the best of days. I couldn’t promise that I wouldn’t need more unexpected time off in the future. But I could appeal to her ego.

“Being an official consultant for Redwing will lend credence to my research project and gain positive press for the fellowship program.”

“Cal and his team are more than capable of securing such benefits. Without your help.” She fixed me with a probing gaze. “You do realize you’re just collateral, don’t you? To sweeten the deal for Cal. He’s the one Redwing wants.”

I refused to take her bait.

“I fail to see how my involvement would make the offer more appealing to Cal.” I straightened my glasses. “As you said, he doesn’t require my assistance. Does he?”

“But you require his.” She planted her elbows on the desk and leaned forward. “Tell me…” Her lips coiled upward, reminiscent of a snake about to strike. “How was your week together— in Vermont ?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

My confusion was genuine. I hadn’t applied to any schools or hospitals in Vermont. Hadn’t traveled there in years. Nor had Cal been out of the state for months, at least not since my fellowship started.

“Drop the pretense already.” Dr. Sethi gave a derisive sniff and angled her computer monitor to face me, displaying my calendar for the third week of December.

The time off I’d blocked for my heat overlapped perfectly with three other calendars, all stating PTO – Vermont .

Calendars that belonged to Cal, Wyatt, and Alijah.

“Quite the coincidence,” she said with a delicate sneer.

“If I’d known you were so… well-traveled , I would have denied your heat leave request. On legitimate grounds, I might add, since you couldn’t be bothered to submit the paperwork on time and you’re clearly on more than collegial terms with several university employees. ”

Shifting back in my chair, I studied the woman before me.

Was she trying to get me to admit to violating my fraternization agreement, thus giving leadership an excuse to boot me off the football team’s medical staff? That would’ve been one surefire way to shut me up about the ongoing pheromone intimidation.

Too bad I’d already signed the Redwing consulting agreement.

Now, I was an empowered pest, with Owen’s express permission to keep pushing. They couldn’t silence me unless they wanted a call from Redwing’s legal department.

Or was this personal?

She might have misinterpreted Cal’s outreach to Verray shareholders and board members as the groundwork for a belated power grab rather than an attempt to help Heather secure the VP position. He was even taking a select group of key board members out to dinner tonight to lobby on her behalf.

Either way, I didn’t take kindly to threats.

“Heat participants are confidential,” I said. “But I’ll apologize again for the timing—”

“I didn’t ask for excuses.” Dr. Sethi dug a nail beneath her thinnest mating band, the motion sharp and unforgiving, like she was picking at an old wound on her finger. “You should have covered your tracks better.”

I wanted to count her rings, to finally know how many mates she had. Instead, I forced myself to focus on the engraved glass nameplate on her desk.

“Don’t mistake my words for advice,” she continued. “They’re not. It’s a warning.”

She regarded me with unprecedented intensity.

“It would have served you better to keep your head down. To do precisely as you were told. Meddling in the business affairs of Redwing BioTech doesn’t constitute genuine research. And your refusal to adhere to designation norms has damaged your prospects with the university.”

My anger came to a controlled boil.

“While I appreciate your guidance, I don’t see how my prospects are any of your concern.

I applied for the sports medicine opening because I wanted the experience, not because I feel entitled to the position.

I know how I compare to other candidates.

But I’ll still attend my interview and answer their questions to the best of my ability—and be thankful for the opportunity, because that’s all I want.

The opportunity to try.” My tone was perfectly professional despite the acid on my tongue. “Just like your daughter.”

She flinched. “Heather has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh? I wonder what my media contacts would be more interested in,” I interjected, eyes drifting over the numerous diplomas and awards dotting her office walls.

My gaze settled on a formal portrait of Heather and her pack.

“Knowing that my fellowship program director invaded my privacy…

or that she exposed her nephew's embezzlement to secure a promotion for her daughter?”

She reared back, eyes wide, mouth agape—as if I’d struck her. Her manicured nails dug into the desktop. “Are you threatening me?”

“Oh, no, I would never,” I said with false concern, resting a hand against my chest. “We’re just two colleagues, full of mutual respect and admiration, having an honest chat.” My demeanor turned cold. “Aren’t we?”

She eyed me warily, fear flashing across her face before hardening into resentment, then turned her computer monitor back toward her. “Very well. I won’t object to your working for Redwing.”

“You can’t. There’s nothing in my fellowship agreement that forbids it. I was informing you out of respect.”

“If this conversation has been your idea of respectful—”

I sighed, cutting her off. “Do you really want to go there?”

“Oh?” Her voice rose—brittle, almost shrill. “Did we not bend over backward far enough to meet your omega standards?”

“No.” I shifted forward, meeting her eyes, giving her time to absorb that my omega was not to be taken lightly.

“The problem is that you don’t understand.

I didn’t come here to be the most congenial little omega physician this university has ever seen.

I’m here to do my best. To meet my own exacting standards regarding patient care—and, yes, research.

Am I supposed to be grateful that you recommended me for a junk project?

That’s what PheroPass was back in July. A waste of everyone’s time—including Cal’s—and especially mine. ”

Her nostrils flared. “That’s quite enough.”

“Why, because I figured it out? You pre-judged me. Decided that I lacked the mental fortitude to do head trauma research after my accident. You never considered that my personal experiences might have been useful or provided insight to the rest of the team. Did you? No, you expected me to sit on my hands for a year and be happy about it. That an omega wouldn’t dare do more than wish and hope for Redwing to improve PheroPass. Well, that’s not how I operate.”

I narrowed my eyes against the noon sun reflecting off the snow outside, refusing to lose my cool.

“I admired you. I really did. Until I realized that you don’t treat me any differently than Verray treats its beta employees. Do you?”

The gaping silence spoke volumes.

“Well,” she finally choked out. “No matter how little I care for the prospect , good luck handling Redwing. But be very certain of your actions.”

Dr. Sethi pushed the consultant agreement toward me and flicked imaginary dust off her desk mat. Probably imagined banishing me from her office—and her pack son’s life—in one fell swoop.

Well, too bad.

She could sink my fellowship, but she couldn’t touch me.

Medicine was part of my identity. It wasn’t everything.

The realization flooded me with refreshing clarity. It was like discovering I’d had the key to a secret room hidden in my pocket all along.

I was more than my job— this job.

And I deserved more respect, too.

Everything worth having humbled me first. Pushed me, tested me, changed me. It left me broken in some way, fighting through pain, tears, or blood.

Gymnastics. My recovery. Medical training.

Falling in love with Cal and reigniting my connection with Wyatt seemed easy in retrospect…if I ignored the tightrope beneath my feet.

If I ever swayed too far in either direction, favoring my career over my personal life or vice versa, if my lingering traumas ever became unbalanced, if my health faltered…

I’d fall. Again.

And hard.

Failure was a very real possibility. The kind that ruined reputations and closed doors forever.

But I’d rather fail on my own terms than be cowed into submission.

Besides, a narrow road was still a road. I just had to keep moving forward.

“Thank you,” I said, slipping the agreement into my bag. “I appreciate your candor.”

“Watch your back. That’s the last piece of advice you’ll get from me.” She turned her chair to face the window. “And I’d better have your spring heat leave request on my desk as soon as possible. No exceptions this time.”