Page 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

NOVA

T he large clinic smells like antiseptic and magic—a strange, not entirely unpleasant mix that reminds me of both hospitals and a storm. The waiting area is quiet, save for the occasional murmur of hushed conversations. In the corner sits an omega and her alpha, judging by the possessive hold he’s got around her waist. A few other solo patients in various stages of nervousness are spread throughout the spacious waiting room. One keeps checking her phone, and another can’t stop tapping on her knee in a fast rhythm.

I’ve never been inside it before, but I’ve heard the rumors—how the heat clinic is run with almost militaristic precision, how they keep everything safe, private, and above all, anonymous.

It’s unsettling. I tug at the hem of my sweater, the fabric suddenly itchy against my skin. The reality of what’s happening feels like it’s sinking in all at once.

I haven’t had a text back from Callum yet, but it’s still early and we were out really late. Maybe he slept in or something. If I haven’t heard back by Monday, I’ll hunt him down and demand answers.

Mom’s text was short, asking if I was okay, but I haven’t responded yet because I don’t know if I am. Always the diplomat, she’s testing the waters before she lays her cards on the table. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to have another conversation with her about Luka.

Not when it just causes everyone involved pain. And besides, my dads have all been briefed on what went down with him, anyway. They can relay it to her, because I’ll just fuck it up.

Before I can dwell too long on what went down on Earth, a sudden commotion at the clinic’s entrance draws my attention. Two female fae hurry in—one looking decidedly worse for wear. Her eyes are unfocused, and she’s breathing in quick, shallow bursts. A pair of staff members materialize, guiding her away. The other woman tries to follow, but a nurse gently stops her with a hand to the shoulder, explaining that her friend needs immediate care. Even from a distance, I catch fragments of the nurse’s words—something about a “severe reaction” and needing to adjust her suppressant dose.

My stomach tenses. It’s one thing to hear the warnings about suppressants, and it’s another thing to see it in real time. The staff’s efficiency is almost uncanny, as though they’ve rehearsed for emergencies like this a thousand times. Still, the flash of panic on the healthy fae’s face lingers in my mind as she’s ushered to a private waiting room. This isn’t just a routine checkup for her friend—it’s life or death. My grip tightens on my sweater, and I force myself to look away, to seek Tai’s comfort. If the heat clinic aims to keep everyone safe, it’s clear they aren’t taking any chances.

Before I can open my mouth to speak, the door whooshes open.

I glance up when a thin male nurse calls my name. “Novaleigh Drake?” A flicker of recognition ghosts across his face. No doubt he’s seen me splashed across social media and newspapers. “I’m Samson, and I’ll be your nurse today. Would you follow me?”

I force a smile and stand, my boots heavy against the polished floor. Tai exchanges a glance from the corner where he’s planted himself like a giant, overprotective tree. He gives me an encouraging nod, though his crossed arms and tight jaw betray his discomfort.

He doesn’t like the idea of my invasive pelvic examine any more than I do.

“I’ll be fine,” I mutter, more to myself than him, as I follow the nurse through the double doors and into the heart of the clinic.

The room he parks me in is quaint, with bright fae lights spilling across the pale green walls. A plush chair sits in one corner, and there’s a small desk stacked with pamphlets titled Navigating Your First Heat, The Dangers of Heat Suppressants, and Understanding Omega Physiology. I pointedly ignore them as the nurse gestures for me to take a seat in the large chair while he pulls a little swivel seat out from under the desk, setting it between me and the big exam table.

He sits across from me, tablet in hand, and smiles again. “Alright, Miss Drake, we’re going to start with a few basic questions, and then I’ll explain the options for your heat management. Afterward, the doctor will come in to give you a physical exam, assess your overall health, and answer any specific questions.”

“Sure.” I try not to fidget. My nerves are practically vibrating, and I’m certain he can sense it.

The nurse’s tone is calm and practiced as he begins. “Have you noticed any significant changes since your magic came in? Beyond the wolf shift, I mean.”

I blink, my fingers curling into my lap. “Uh, yeah. My magic’s been ... a lot. It’s been hard to control.” Glancing at his wrist, I notice a beta symbol on a little charm on his bracelet. Next to it is another charm with a little pack emblem.

So, he’s a wolf fae, too.

He taps a note into the tablet. “That’s not unusual, given your lineage. We’ll make a note for the doctor to address it during your visit. Now, about your heat—have you experienced any symptoms yet? Restlessness? Increased sensitivity? Cravings? Nesting?”

Heat prickles at the back of my neck, and I glance at the wall behind him. “Maybe?” I wince. “Nothing major yet, but I’ve been really hungry. And I’ve changed my pillows three times this morning alone.” Nothing feels right.

He nods knowingly. “That’s expected. Your first heat is typically the strongest, so preparation is key. Have you decided how you’d like to proceed? We offer a variety of options depending on your comfort level.”

“Options?” My voice comes out more strangled than I intended, and I clear my throat. “Like what?”

The nurse pulls out a laminated chart, sliding it across the desk toward me. “There are two primary routes: solo or attended. Solo means you manage it on your own with suppressants and other aids like shots, but those carry significant risk we can discuss in more detail. Attended is the most common for omegas—it involves partnering with an alpha to help you through the heat physically.”

My stomach tightens as I think back to the protests and the dire warnings splashed across bulletin boards on campus. Say no to suppressants, it’s not nature’s way!

“And if I choose ... attended?”

“There are strict protocols in place to ensure your safety and comfort.” He points to the chart. “Enchanted sensors monitor all interactions. We will equip you both with voice modulators and a vision spell to ensure anonymity, and a system of safe words is in place—green to continue, yellow to proceed with caution, and red to stop immediately. An automated system matches you with an alpha, who receives briefing beforehand on your specific needs and boundaries. If you choose to have partial vision during your heat, you’ll see an ideal version of your mate.”

I nod slowly, absorbing the information. “What about my personal guard? Can he?—”

“For attended heats, only the omega and the alpha are allowed in the room, unless the omega’s labs indicate otherwise. It’s a privacy and safety measure. After your first heat, we’ll do some bloodwork to see where you fall.”

Figures. I chew on the inside of my cheek, glancing down at the chart. The thought of being alone with a stranger—an alpha—during something as intimate and vulnerable as a heat sends a shudder through me. But the idea of going through it without any help at all? That’s worse.

Omegas die if they don’t have a knot during their heats.

I knew this. It’s why all omegas need an alpha, unless we’re on suppressants, but having it confirmed sends a curl of dread through me.

Why? Why did I have to become a wolf fae?

“I’ll ... think about it,” I say finally. Not because I need to, but because I’m uncomfortable and have no idea what else to say. I’ve already made up my mind. There is zero chance I’m going to go out and find me an alpha to fuck me. Nor am I going to fuck up my health by messing with my hormones. “How long would I have to be stuck here if I choose attended?”

“First heats average five to seven days. After that, some drop down to as few as three days, depending on whether their cycle comes monthly or quarterly.” The nurse’s smile is patient, understanding. “The doctor can answer any additional questions you have. Speaking of which,” he turns back to his tablet, scrolling through something, “he’ll be in shortly. If you’ll just wait here, I’ll let him know you’re ready.”

A few minutes later, after a quiet knock, the door opens to reveal the doctor, a towering fae with broad shoulders and an imposing stature. His black hair is neatly styled, framing his chiseled jawline, which is accented by a hint of stubble that makes him look both refined and just a little untamed.

He wears a crisp white lab coat that fits him perfectly, the fabric pristine, but it’s what’s underneath that catches my attention. Dark wash jeans hug his hips and thick thighs in a way that feels almost unfairly distracting, the contrast between the clinical coat and the casual denim making him seem both authoritative and approachable. The sleeves of his coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms dusted with dark hair, and the fitted black shirt beneath it pulls across a broad chest.

My gaze lingers a little too long, and my cheeks heat up as I quickly look away. Probably not fast enough, though—I catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips, as if he knows exactly where my thoughts have wandered. I swallow hard, trying to focus on anything but the way his presence seems to fill the room.

His scent drifts toward me, subtle at first but impossible to ignore—a hint of mint that cools the air like a breeze over frost-covered fields, softened by the caramelized sweetness of toasted brown sugar. Beneath it all, there’s a bright twist of lemons, crisp and clean, carving through the warmth and leaving something almost refreshing in its wake. It wraps around me, dizzying, like stepping into a familiar dream.

Fuck, he smells good.

“Novaleigh?” he asks, glancing at the tablet in his hand before meeting my stare. His pupils blow, eating up the gray of his irises. “I’m Dr. Hayes. Nice to meet you.”

I nod, my throat suddenly dry. “Hi.”

He steps over to the desk, setting the tablet down. “I’ve gone over your file. Hard to control magic, newly shifted omega, first heat on the horizon. How are you feeling about everything?”

“Overwhelmed,” I admit. “And I don’t really know what to expect, other than the cursory stuff I learned about in class.” Stuff that admittedly, I didn’t even pay attention to.

I don’t want to be a fucking wolf fae.

“That’s completely normal.”He taps the tablet a few times before looking up at me. “First heats can be unpredictable, but that’s what we’re here for—to make sure you’re prepared and supported.”

I nod again, though it feels like my head is on autopilot. He gestures to the exam table in the corner.

“Why don’t we start with a checkup? I’ll make sure everything’s on track physically, and then we can talk more about your options.” He gestures to the plush exam table covered with a long, white paper. Around his wrist is his bracelet, sporting an alpha charm but no pack emblem.

Do the staff participate in heats and ruts here, too? I can see why some people might think that’s wrong, but if there’s true anonymity, and no one knows who they’re rutting with, I guess that redresses any power imbalances?

“Okay.” I rise to my feet but stop when he continues.

“Before we begin, I’ll need you to change into a gown. It’ll make the examination easier, especially since we’ll be checking for magical imbalances.” He gestures to a folded bundle of pale blue fabric on the chair. “You can change behind the partition there. Nothing under the gown, please.”

My mouth opens to protest, but nothing comes out. I guess what they say is true: an omega’s first physical exam is invasive. I don’t know whether to rejoice or run and hide because my doctor is hot.

He catches my hesitation, his lips twitching into something that might be a smirk. “I’ll step out to give you some privacy. Knock when you’re ready.”

I nod stiffly, trying to act as though the idea of stripping down in a room that still smells of antiseptic and herbs doesn’t make my skin crawl. As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, I grab the gown with far more force than necessary and retreat behind the partition. Just in case.

The fabric is soft but alien, shimmering in the light as I shrug out of my clothes. It’s got to be that antimicrobial type of fabric hospitals use. My fingers tremble, the enormity of what’s coming hitting all at once. This is real. My magic’s come in. I’m officially an omega.

“Just get it over with,” I mutter to myself, slipping the gown over my head. It’s sleeveless, backless, and ties at the neck and waist. Perfectly designed to make me feel utterly exposed.

I glance down at my legs, at the goosebumps rising against my skin. My wolf stirs, more curious than anything. But another instinct pushes back, curling low in my stomach—the need to please, to submit, to make sure everything is alright.

Damn omega instincts. It’s everything I’m not.

After shoving my bra and underwear under the pile containing my shirt and pants, I knock on the door before I can talk myself out of it.

“Come on in,” I call, forcing my voice to sound steady.

Dr. Hayes enters a moment later, his expression still professional but with a hint of something ... else. His gaze flicks over me briefly, assessing, before he nods. “Good. Let’s get started.”

He moves around the room with practiced efficiency, gathering instruments and small magical tools from drawers and cabinets. There’s a glowing orb floating near his shoulder that helps him see into the back of the cabinet.

“Hop up on the table.” He gestures with a gloved hand.

I hesitate for a fraction of a second before obeying, climbing onto the raised platform covered in crinkly, enchanted paper that scratches against the backs of my legs.

The doctor takes a seat on a rolling chair and props the tablet on one of his thick thighs. “Are you currently sexually active?”

The question catches me off guard. "What?" I splutter, heat rising to my cheeks.

Dr. Hayes looks up from his clipboard, his expression neutral. "I need to know for the exam. It affects which tests I run and the supplies you’ll need."

"Oh. Um, no. I'm not." The words come out stiffer than I intend.

He nods, making a note on his tablet. "How many previous sexual partners?”

“Zero,” I rasp.

“Any non-penetrative sexual activity?”

“Any what?” I whine. Fucking whine . Somebody bury me.

Dr. Hayes's lips twitch, just slightly, at my pitiful response. "Manual stimulation, oral sex, use of toys or other objects?"

I shake my head vigorously, unable to find my voice. My face burns with embarrassment. But then I remember. “Oh, um.” I clear my throat. “I’ve given, but haven’t received, oral.”

He stills, just the briefest of pauses, before he makes another note.

“And I occasionally stimulate,” I squeak out. “I mean, by myself. No partner.” This would be a whole hell of a lot easier if my doctor wasn’t hot.

He hums. “How often?”

"Maybe once or twice a week," I mumble, eyes trained on the ceiling. The sterile white tiles offer no reprieve from this mortifying interrogation. I’m lying. Absolutely freaking lying. Once or twice per day, if I can find a pocket of time when Tai and Sylus are either sleeping, showering, or having meals.

He makes a few more notes, stylus gliding across the tablet screen. "And during these solo encounters, do you penetrate yourself with fingers or any devices?"

I squirm, and he senses my hesitation.

“As an omega, you’ll need to take a knot several times during each heat. While his come, purrs, and growls will help ease you, it’s infinitely more difficult to take an alpha’s knot if you’ve never had penetrative sex, whether through self pleasure or otherwise.” He glances up from making notes. “To best prepare you for this, we need to know if you’ve had any kind of penetration, so we know what to send you home with.”

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. "No, I haven't ... penetrated. Just, you know, external touching." I can barely meet Dr. Hayes's eyes.

His expression is still maddeningly neutral as he taps on his tablet. "Alright, that's helpful information. We'll make sure to provide some graduated plugs and dilators in your pre-heat kit then, to help you work up to taking a knot comfortably."

“Pre-heat kit?”

“Given your inexperience, I recommend starting with the smallest knot simulator we have available. You'll want to practice with it daily leading up to your heat."

Oh gods, is he really going to send me home with a bunch of sex toys? I want to crawl under the exam table and hide, but I force myself to stay put.

He sets his tablet aside and leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I know this can be an uncomfortable topic to discuss, but it's important we prepare you properly for your first heat. The more comfortable and relaxed you are, the easier it will be for you."

I nod, still unable to meet his eyes. My cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Now, let's discuss your options for heat partners," he continues. "Have you given any thought as to preferences? Male versus female alphas? Your limits? Orders?”

I shake my head, feeling completely overwhelmed. While not opposed to having a female alpha during my heat, I’m most attracted to males.

Dr. Hayes gives an understanding nod. "That's perfectly normal. Many omegas your age haven't had experience with alphas yet. Let's go over some of the key considerations, then."

He picks up his tablet again and pulls up what looks like a questionnaire. "In terms of physical characteristics, do you have any strong preferences? Tall or short? Muscular build or leaner? Any racial preferences?"

“I thought this is anonymous?”

“Yes, but you’ll have an opportunity at the end of your heat—if you both consent—to exchange masked phone numbers using our app. This still gives you anonymity, but also allows for you to choose the same partner in the future if you’re both agreeable to it.” He rummages through another drawer to find a bracelet and sets it on the countertop. “Sometimes, using the same partner repeatedly can make your heats much easier, as your wolf will be more amenable to the familiarity, even when there’s anonymity. Fewer cramps for you, and less nerves, too.”

“But why would preferences matter if I don’t ever see what they look like?”

“It’s not unheard of for pairings to decide they want to take things further in the future, especially if they go through several heats together.”

The wolf from the hospital.

I don’t even know what he looks like as a fae! Why am I even thinking about him?

I shake my head, swallowing hard. “No preferences. I don’t want to know them.” I’ve got my betas, and I don’t want an alpha in my life. Ever. I’d never want a monster who can’t control his urges.

Dr. Hayes makes a note on his tablet. "Very well, we can accommodate that. Now, let's discuss your limits. It's important to establish clear boundaries to ensure your comfort and safety during your heat. Are there any specific acts or behaviors that you’re not comfortable with?"

I bite my lip, considering the question. The thought of being intimate with a stranger, even in the throes of heat, is daunting. “I need to be able to say no if something doesn’t feel right.” What I don’t tell him is I’m a big fan of playing with knives, and if used in the middle of my heat, I might just confess my undying love for the alpha. So definitely no knives.

“If you want everything to stop, you say red. If you’re unsure or need things to slow down, it’s yellow. And if you’re good to go, it’s green. Easy enough?”

I incline my head.

He scrolls through a few more questions. "What about scent preferences? Some omegas find certain alpha scents more appealing during heat. Musky, woodsy, spicy, or fresh scents for example."

I fidget on the exam table, the paper crinkling beneath me. "Um, I guess woodsy scents are nice. I hate powdery smelling perfume, so probably nothing like that. Not a fan of flowers, either.” Pausing for a moment, I mutter, “Mint, lemons, and brown sugar smell pretty good, too.”

Dr. Hayes’ fingers tap on the tablet screen as he records my preferences. "Woodsy scents, no powdery perfumes, or floral notes. Prefers lemons, mint, and brown sugar?” He glances up to ensure he’s got it, and I nod. “We'll make sure to match you with an alpha whose natural scent aligns with your preferences, though both your scent and the alpha’s scent will be altered slightly, so there’s no chance you’d recognize each other in public by scent alone."

"Now,” he sets his stylus down, “let's discuss aftercare. It's important to have a plan in place for your post-heat recovery. We offer a range of options, including warm baths, soothing massages, and a quiet space to rest. Is there anything specific you'd like your alpha to offer you?”

I shift uncomfortably. The idea of a stranger caring for me in such an intimate way after my heat making my skin prickle with unease. There’s a reason why the tabloids sometimes refer to me as the Ice Princess. I’m really not much of a cuddly kind of fae. Though, now that my magic is in, who knows, because apparently it’s changed my entire fucking personality. "I'm not sure," I admit. "I guess a warm bath or shower and some quiet time to rest would be nice."

“Perfect. Heats usually come on within a month of your magic manifesting, so you have some time to complete the detailed questionnaire we’ll send to your email. This will match you with an alpha on campus. The sooner you can get this done, the better. No one, other than our automated system, will know who your match is. I won’t know, reception won’t know, nor will any of the nurses, attendants, or other doctors. This protects the both of you, so be as honest as possible. If either party doesn’t abide by the rules, the offending party is removed immediately and automatically banned by our system. There’s a sliding scale, so if you’re unsure of anything, such as any kinks or fetishes, and you’re curious about them, don’t hesitate to mark it down.”

I sigh, trying to take in all the information Dr. Hayes throws at me. It's overwhelming, the thought of trusting a stranger with my body during such a vulnerable time. But I know I have no choice. Without an alpha's help, my heat will kill me.

“What if I don’t match with an alpha?” I whisper. Knowing my luck, I’ll have zero options.

He clears his throat. “With the large concentration of alphas here, that’s never happened. Between students and staff, there are always at least two or three matches.”

“Staff?” So I was right to wonder about that.

“Staff at the center employed to help with heats.”

“Oh.” Guess that answers that question.

“Do you want us to send you home with birth control tea, or would you prefer to learn a birth control spell?”

I clear my throat. “Tea sounds good.”

Unlike on Earth—where my mom grew up—we don’t get communicable diseases in Bedlam, so prophylactics aren’t really a thing here.

He rises from his swivel chair before moving to a row of cupboards above the countertop.

“This part will be a bit uncomfortable,” he warns, pulling out a device that hums with magic. “It’s a diagnostic tool. Think of it like a stethoscope, but for magic.”

“I’ve never had a stethoscope used on my ... magic,” I mutter. Nor anywhere else, really.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “First time for everything.”

The device emits a delicate, golden light as he moves it over my chest, my arms, my abdomen. I can feel the warmth of his hands through the gloves, and it’s not entirely unpleasant. My wolf shifts restlessly, the proximity of an alpha sending little jolts of awareness through my body.

The golden light glows against my skin as the diagnostic tool hums softly, a soothing sound meant to calm nerves. Not mine, though. My wolf stirs again, her presence leaning closer, just enough to make my pulse quicken.

Don’t you dare , I snap at her, gritting my teeth.

He’s an alpha, she purrs, her tone dripping with admiration. Our alpha. Let him see how impressive we are.

He’s not our alpha! He’s a doctor! A doctor! Stop it—whatever you’re thinking, just stop!

But she doesn’t.

It’s subtle at first, like the slow burn of embers catching flame. A delicate warmth pools low in my belly, and then I feel it—a ripple of something more, spreading through the air like a sigh.

The doctor freezes.

His hand stills mid-motion, the golden light from the diagnostic tool quivering as if it, too, felt the shift in the atmosphere. His jaw tightens, and he exhales through his nose, but I can see it—the barest twitch of his fingers, the way his shoulders tense.

"Novaleigh." My name comes out strained as he carefully sets the device aside.

Oh gods.

You didn’t! Stop perfuming!

He’s noticing us, my wolf croons, smug as ever. Let him.

I’m going to murder you, I think, though I can’t even focus on forming coherent words because all I can see is him—Dr. Hayes, the picture of control, his professionalism cracking at the edges as my scent envelops him.

He’s so beautiful it hurts.

You could ride his thick thighs.

His throat bobs as he swallows, and for the first time, his eyes dart anywhere but my face. “Your magic ... appears to be ... reacting instinctively.” His words are clipped, as if he’s forcing them out.

“Instinctively?” My voice pitches up.

“Yes.” His eyes track briefly to the corner of the room, as though he needs an anchor, something to ground himself. “Omegas, particularly newly shifted ones, sometimes release pheromones when they’re ... unsettled.”

Unsettled, my ass! This is all for you, big, sexy alpha. The smug hum of my wolf grows louder. He likes it. Look how he’s reacting. We’re doing great.

“Stop it!” I hiss, my fists clenching at my sides.

Dr. Hayes raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Not you!” I blurt, heat rushing to my face as I wave a hand dismissively. “Just ... never mind.”

His lips press into a thin line, but he picks up the diagnostic tool again. “Let’s try to focus. The sooner we finish, the sooner you can, uh, regain control of your instincts.”

I nod frantically, though my wolf has other ideas. We’re not done impressing him yet.

Oh, I’m going to kill you when this is over. If I survive.

Dr. Hayes works quickly, his hands precise and impersonal as he examines the markers that apparently indicate my omega status. He explains everything as he goes—how the glands near the junction between my hips and thighs are slightly more sensitive now, how my scent has changed, how my body will respond differently during a heat.

My cheeks burn hotter with every word, and I’m sure he can feel the tension radiating off me.

“Relax,” he murmurs. “It’s perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed. But your body knows what it’s doing, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

I meet his stare briefly, startled by the gentleness there. For a moment, I forget that he’s a stranger, and that he’s my doctor and I’m his patient.

“Your omega instincts will guide you,” he continues, “and when the time comes, we’ll make sure you’re supported every step of the way.”

I swallow hard. “Thanks.”

“Your magic’s strong,” he says after a moment, his tone thoughtful. “A bit ... erratic, but that’s expected given how recently it came in.” Dr. Hayes straightens, setting the diagnostic tool aside. “I’m going to check your internal omega markers now. This will be more invasive.”

My mouth goes dry as he gestures for me to place my feet in the stirrups at the end of the table.

Oh, gods. It’s time.