Page 123 of Claiming the Pack's Omega

“N—no,” I say, shaking my head. “He didn’t.”

She lets out a soft huff of laughter before rolling her eyes. “That sure sounds like the Killian I know.”

I blink at her in surprise. To be completely honest, I don’t think I expected that kind of sass from a Northside omega, especially one as well put together as her.

“Yeah, he didn’t tell me a lot about today.” To be completely fair to him, I really didn’t ask all that much. I know I probablycouldhave said no, but I really don’t think it was worth the fight it would’ve caused. He seemed really intent on making sure I saw a doctor. “How do you know Killian?”

“He’s been really helpful in advocating for grants and a government match for the Rockwell scholarship, which helps omegas pursue higher education," she says.

“There’s a scholarship like that?” I ask, perking up.

“Yeah, my family started it a few years ago. Are you interested?”

“For myself? Nah, not really. I think my sister would be a great fit, though—she hasn’t presented yet—but if she does… she’s really smart, you know?”

“I think it’s great you’re looking out for your sister,” Charlotte says, a soft smile on her face. She has this sort of glow about her, maybe from growing up in the Northside, maybe from getting pampered by her bondmates. It looks good on her.

A deep, ugly part of me twinges with jealousy.

I want that.

“How about this, if she does present as an omega, just give me a call and I can get things set up with an interview, sound good?” She says, writing down her phone number on a spare piece of paper and handing it to me.

“Seriously? Just like that?”

“Of course.” Her smile grows a little tight at the corners. “I don’t know exactly what you’ve gone through, down in the Southside, but I have an idea. I’ve heard you’ve met Luna? I treated her when she first got to the Northside, and she was in pretty bad shape.”

I bite my bottom lip before nodding.

“Okay then, thank you.”

“Now, onto the whole reason we’re seeing each other! I hear that you’ve been taking suppressants?”

“Yeah, since I had my first heat at eighteen.”

“Do you by any chance have any of them with you?”

“I actually do,” I say, reaching into my back pocket and pulling out my last two pills. “I normally take them every week. They’re strong enough to get rid of my heat, but they’re not strong enough to hide my scent or anything.”

She takes the small plastic baggie and peers at the nondescript pills.

“Can I send these into the lab for testing?” She asks.

“I mean, sure, I don’t know if it’s even a good idea for me to be taking them, to be honest. I don’t even know what’s in them or how they’re made.”

She nods as she wheels her chair over to press a button on the wall.

“I need something run to the lab from exam room four," she says.

A minute later, another smiling beta female nurse comes in and takes the bag.

“Do you only hire women here?” I ask, when we’re alone again.

“Yup," she says, popping the p. “I’m an ob-gyn by trade, but since opening my own practice here, I’ve sort of become a general practitioner too. I see a lot of omegas who may be experiencing different levels of stress. It just keeps everyone comfortable, you know?”

“I’ve never—I’ve never been to a place like this,” I say, fidgeting with the soft blanket in my lap. “It’s nice.”

“I’m really happy to hear that! Anyways, one of my biggest concerns is that you haven’t had a heat in six years. Regardless ofwhether or not the suppressants were altering your hormones—and I’m sure they were, we just don’t know to what degree until we run some tests in the lab—you not having your heat certainly has.”