Rooming With My Ex-Mate's Hockey Star Brother

SADIE

For a moment, the room is silent, and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one in shock. Although shock might be the wrong word. Tense, maybe. Uncomfortable?

My pulse seems louder now that nobody is talking, and the longer I sit, the worse everything Dr. Ngozi just said begins to sound.

Heat is one thing. Going into it unpredictably is another. Having every unmated wolf around me know when it happens is a different problem entirely.

It takes me a moment to find my voice, and I lean closer to the desk. ”A-are you saying I could just...go into heat multiple times and start drawing unmated wolves to me?”

”That’s generally how it works, sweetheart. Most Omegas learn what their own heat is like once their wolves manifest.” She looks remarkably unconcerned about this, which I suppose is easy when it isn’t your scent being broadcast to men in the vicinity. ”Any Omega with an active wolf is essentially a ticking time bomb.”

She swivels toward Trey again.

”There’s a reason he’s on suppressants. Alphas have their own problems when their wolves start projecting mating instincts. The two of you are basically opposite ends of the same pole.”

Yes. Fascinating.

Could we perhaps discuss my end of the pole before it explodes?

”Is there something I can take?” I ask. ”To suppress the heat, I mean. Trey is around me a lot, so I don’t want it becoming a problem for him because—”

”Worry about yourself,” Trey cuts in.

I look at him. There’s a slight irritation in his expression, although it seems to be directed more at me worrying about him than the actual possibility of my heat affecting him.

”I am worried about myself,” I say. ”I can worry about two people at once.”

”Don’t.”

There’s really no arguing with someone who contributes one word at a time.

I turn back to Dr. Ngozi. ”I just don’t want to become an inconvenience to him.”

Somehow, that seems to amuse her again.

”Well,” she says, ”whether Trey considers you an inconvenience or not, I wouldn’t recommend another suppressant. They’re made for Alphas because their wolves are strong enough to tolerate them. For an Omega or really, anyone whose wolf isn’t Alpha-ranked, the risks usually outweigh the benefits.”

My stomach sinks a little. ”What kind of risks?”

”It can interfere with the connection between you and your wolf, especially when she’s already struggling to fully manifest. In your case, I’d be worried about—”

A notification from her laptop interrupts her, drawing her attention back to the screen.

”Your results are in.” She reaches for the trackpad.

I watch her scroll through the results, but the longer she reads, the more the ease in her expression fades.

”This is strange,” she murmurs.

A chill works its way down my back. I’m fairly certain nothing good has ever followed a doctor saying that while looking at someone’s test results.

”Sadie, remind me. How long ago did you take Trey’s suppressant?” she asks.

”Four days ago.” I look between her and the laptop. ”Why?”

She reads over the results again, slower this time.

”Because this doesn’t look like four days of suppression.” Her frown deepens as she scrolls a little farther. ”Your markers suggest your wolf has been suppressed for a very long time. Fifteen years at minimum, possibly longer.”

A shaky breath slips out of me before I can stop it.

Fifteen years?

”That’s not possible.” I shake my head, trying to fit that number anywhere into the life I remember and coming up with nothing. ”I grew up in an orphanage. I don’t think anyone there cared enough about me to spend years suppressing my wolf.”

The concern on her face only deepens. ”Sadie, I’m not saying you were being given something continuously for fifteen years.”

I blink, not following.

”I’m saying this could have been done to you long before the orphanage. With suppression this deep, possibly when you were still a baby.”

My eyelids flutter as I try to process that. Dr. Ngozi is watching me now, worry drawn plainly across her face.

Maybe this should be terrifying but I can’t seem to reach the feeling yet. It’s like my mind has fallen a few steps behind the conversation. I know what she said. I understand every word individually. I just can’t put them together into something that belongs to me.

A baby.

That part, at least, sticks.

I was a baby when I was left at the orphanage, so everything before it has always been a blank. I don’t have a face to attach to whoever brought me there, much less any idea what happened to me before they did.

A small smile pulls at my lips. It feels like the wrong reaction, but then again, who can react properly to this?

”So you’re saying...” My fingers tighten around my arm. ”You’re implying someone just... just suppressed my wolf when I was a baby or what?”

She nods, drawing in a breath. ”Yes. I know how that sounds, but... yes. I don’t understand why anyone would do that to you, or what could possibly...” She stops, pressing her lips together. ”Are you okay? If you need a moment, you can—”

I’m not sure when I stop hearing her, only that my thoughts have already slipped toward the part of my life I usually leave alone.

My mother.

And this time, instead of wondering what she looked like or why she left me, I find myself asking a much worse question.

Did she do this to me?

I try not to picture a woman holding me when I was barely more than a newborn and deliberately suppressing my wolf. I don’t know if that’s what happened. I don’t know if she died having me.

But I can’t stop wondering what could possibly have been wrong with me as a baby that someone decided this was necessary.

”Can you run the sample again and see if you can isolate what caused it?”

Dr. Ngozi’s voice pulls me out of the thought, and only then do I realize she’s on the phone.

She listens, her attention returning to the laptop. ”Nothing at all? How old?”

A few seconds pass before she responds.

”All right. Keep trying. If you identify anything, call me immediately.”

She ends the call and sets her phone beside the laptop. ”That was the lab. They couldn’t identify what was used on your wolf. Nothing they tested for came back with a match.” She pauses. ”But they were able to date the suppression. It’s been there your whole life, Sadie. Since you were born. They’re going to keep working on the sample and see if they can figure out what caused it.”

I realize I’ve been digging my nails into my arm hard enough to leave little crescents, but I can’t seem to make myself loosen my grip. My whole life. How can something be part of me for twenty-one years and I’m only finding out about it now?

How could someone do this to me?

”Sadie, there’s something else I need to explain,” Dr. Ngozi says. ”You might not have been born an Omega.”