Page 72 of Knotted By my Pack

“The new suppressants didn’t take,” I say, flat and tired, before she even opens her mouth.

She sighs and nods. “No. We ran the bloodwork twice. The compounds aren’t bonding. Your hormonal cycle is overrunning everything.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and breathe through the heat building behind my eyes. “So what now? A different dosage? Another formula?”

She sets the tablet down and perches on the stool. Her voice is calm, her gaze soft. “Cora. We’ve been at this for two weeksnow. At this point, we need to ask whether this is something to manage... or something to accept.”

“You’re telling me to give in. Go feral.”

“I’m saying you’re an Omega. Your body is trying to do what it was made to do. The more you resist it, the more aggressive your system becomes.”

My arms fold tightly over my chest. The room suddenly feels smaller.

Dr. Avery watches me, the same way she always does right before she says something I won’t like.

“You’re not broken. You’re not malfunctioning. Your body is reacting to constant suppression. You’ve forced your system out of rhythm for so long, and now it’s fighting back.”

“This isn’t new.”

“No. Because the truth hasn’t changed. You’re in heat because you’re supposed to be. You’re needy because your body wants to bond, nest, and claim. And that’s not shameful. It’s not weakness.”

I stare at the ceiling. I blink until everything blurs. “You think I should stop fighting it.”

“I think it’s hurting you more to keep pretending you don’t need something fundamental to your biology.”

She rises, hands me a printed slip of notes, and walks out, leaving me alone again. Outside, the wind cuts across my skin.

The sun is too bright. My shoes crunch over gravel as I make my way toward the parked taxis, steps dragging.

I’m halfway to the lot when I almost barrel into someone.

“Cora? I haven’t seen you in a while.” Grace steadies me with a hand on my arm. “You okay? You’re pale.”

I try for a smile, but it cracks on one side. “Just left the clinic. Nothing serious.”

Her eyes skim my face. “Want to talk about it? I’ve got a quiet shop and tea with your name on it.”

Something in me breaks open a little. I nod. “Yeah. I think I do.”

We walk the few blocks to her flower shop in silence. Inside, the scent of cut flowers and damp soil wraps around me.

The warmth, the light, the hum of something living... it’s comforting in a way I didn’t expect.

She hands me a mug filled with something earthy and sweet, sits beside me on the worn couch tucked into the window nook, and waits.

I stare into the tea. “Why am I so afraid of Alphas?”

Grace tilts her head but doesn’t interrupt.

“You have Rowan. Jake. Ash. You live with three Alphas, and you’re happy. You built a life together. I don’t understand how. How do you let that happen without feeling like you’re losing yourself?”

She gives me a soft smile. “Because I’m not giving anything up. Not really. I’m choosing them. And I’m choosing how I let them in. Power isn’t about who marks who.”

I exhale, slow and shaky. “I’ve never bonded. Not even close.”

Her tone stays soft. “Why not?”

“Because…” My throat tightens. I force the words out. “I grew up in foster care. Moved from house to house. No one stayed. No one taught me what trust looks like. I learned to protect myself, build my own things. My bakery? I started that from scratch. Took over the space and turned it into something that mattered. Something safe. I’ve had interest. Plenty. But I never let anyone close enough to see the parts of me that aren’t strong.”