Page 8 of Storm

His face is flushed with pain, but his eyes twinkle with amusement. The corners of his lips twitch slightly, a hint of a smile playing on his face. I roll my eyes at him, knowing exactly what he’s gonna say.

"Storm by name,hurricane by nature.”

Chapter3

Storm

Asoft knock interrupts my thoughts of seeing Rook’s face again. I quickly sit up, smoothing the blanket to hide any evidence of my plans in my backpack and shove it under my pillows.

"Come in," I call, trying to sound neutral.

It's not Miranda or Veronica but the beta Dr. Winters, the facility physician. My stomach drops. I wasn't scheduled for another check-up until next week. And fuck that. If she thinks I’m going back to have her poke and prod me. I’ll be long gone.

"Hello, Storm," she says, clipboard in hand. "How are you feeling today?"

"Fine." The word comes out clipped. I don't trust her clinical smile.

"Your pheromones are causing some issues in the house, and I want to make sure you’re getting enough scent blockers." She sits on the edge of my bed without asking.

I shrug. "Are the other omegas telling you I stink?"

Dr. Winters gives me a tight smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "No, actually. It's causing some distress among the staff."

I can't help the smirk that forms on my face.

"What kind of distress?" I ask, not bothering to hide my satisfaction. "Am I making the beta staff uncomfortable?"

Dr. Winters' professional mask slips for just a second, revealing annoyance before she composes herself again. "Your scent is particularly strong for someone on scent blockers, Storm."

I cross my arms over my chest. "Not my problem."

"Actually, it is." She opens her clipboard. "Your file indicates you've been refusing your heat suppressants."

Shit. Someone found my stash.

"I don't want them," I say, chin lifting defiantly. "They make me feel like I'm not myself."

"They're for your own good," she counters. "First heats can be unpredictable and extremely painful without proper medication."

"I'll take my chances."

Dr. Winters sighs, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Storm, I understand this transition has been difficult for you. Most beta-to-omega transitions are rare. You haven’t been raised like the other omegas, knowing what is to happen."

I turn away, staring at the wall. She doesn't understand anything about me.

"Your dark chocolate scent is... particularly potent," she continues, her voice softening slightly. "It's affecting the beta staff, and if we get any alpha visitors, it could cause serious problems."

"Then maybe don't bring alphas into the Omega House," I snap. "Seems like a design flaw."

Dr. Winters' lips thin into a tight line. "The Omega House is run by alphas, Storm. They could visit at any time."

I shrug. I don’t care.

“We are going to give you a double dose of blockers starting tomorrow and we will be watching you take them each day until your scent is dulled.”

I clench my jaw, the taste of fury bitter on my tongue. "You can't force me to take anything."

"Actually, we can." Dr. Winters' voice turns cold, clinical. "Section 12 of the Omega Protection Act allows medical intervention when an omega's health or safety is at risk. Your refusal of heat suppressants qualifies. But I don’t care if you don’t take them. You will be the sorry one. But the blockers you don’t have a choice."