Page 18 of Examining the Bond

I climb into my black BMW and start the engine, sitting there for a moment while the car warms up and I decide where to go from here. It’s not like I have any plans; I never do. But something stops me from going straight home the way I normally would.

Perhaps it’s because I know Riann is staying at the hotel next to the Buchanan Center tonight, and driving away from the clinic means driving away from her. Or maybe it’s because I know once I get home there won’t be anything to distract me from my own thoughts, the ones currently consumed by her.

If I go home, the only thing I’ll have to distract myself is the gym—which is never a bad thing—but since working out on my lunch break did nothing to sway my thoughts, I doubt sweating it out will do anything.

I back out of my parking spot and drive to where the lot meets the main road. I can just see the top of the hotel peeking out above the Buchanan Center, and my alpha urges spike. Riann is so close, probably getting ready for the night.

The thought of going to find her briefly crosses my mind before I violently beat it back. Not only could I lose my job for tracking down a patient, but she’d probably call the cops.

It’s stupid and a little embarrassing that I’m acting this way, like a lost puppy trying to find its way home, but I can’t control the assault of emotions fighting inside me.

This isn’t a scent match, I remind myself.

I've studied scents, bonds, and pheromones for years. If there’s one thing I know, it’s designation studies. It’s what I’m good at, what I’m known for.

If this was a scent match, I’d know.

Still, I can’t explain what’s happening to me or to Riann. I’ve never been so confused in my entire life. All I know is that it’s not normal, and I need to get myself together until I can figure it out.

As soon as I hit puberty, it was clear I wasn’t an omega. I outgrew all my female friends, and I was far from being gentle and dainty. The way my body was shaped, my personality, my drive to be successful. I was emerging as an alpha even before I presented. I prayed endlessly to whatever god might be listening to make me anything else.

I didn’t want to be an alpha.

One of the reasons I chose to study genetic research was because I read so much about it after I presented, trying to figure out why all my female friends became omegas and I didn’t. I wanted explanations; I wanted to understand why it happened to me.

I wanted someone to take care of me. I wanted to be emotional and vulnerable, which is hard when I’m supposed to be tough and fierce like my designation demands. If I’d been given the choice back then, I would have chosen any designation other than an alpha. Hell, my eighteen-year-old self would have been overjoyed to be a beta like my sister, Lana.

With a huff, I check the rearview mirror to make sure no one is waiting on me to move before continuing my silent debate. I could hit the town, maybe go eat at a nice restaurant orsomething. I could go to the bar and chat up a bartender, just to avoid going home and being stuck alone with my thoughts.

None of it sounds appealing, but the thought of staying out a little while longer beats going home.

Should I invite someone?The thought is brief. It’s not like I have anyone to invite.

I’ve been a hermit for so long, always keeping to myself when I’m not at work, that reaching out to old friends feels like introducing myself to strangers.

No thanks.

The only person I can think to call, and who I wouldn’t mind spending some time with, is my sister. However, she’s probably busy editing client photos or something for her photography business. After hiring a social media manager, her business went semi-viral, and she’s been booked solid ever since.

I’m happy for her, and so proud, but I haven’t seen her in like a month. I doubt she’d even want to go.

After a moment of indecision, I pull out my phone and scroll to her name. As it rings, the sound comes through the car speakers, and I’m surprised when she answers.

“Skylar!” Lana shrieks, and I frantically turn down the radio volume. “Cómo estás?”

“Bien, bien,” I say, checking the rearview mirror again as the car idles. “Just got off work.”

“Are you headed home now?” she asks. Even though I rarely see her, she knows me so well.

“Nah, I was thinking about going to grab some food or something in the city,” I admit, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. “You’re probably busy, but I wanted to see if you’d go with me.”

“Actually…” She draws out the word, and my hope soars. “I just finished up a session downtown. I could meet you somewhere if you want.”

“Yeah. That’d be great.” I pull out onto the main road leading downtown, my gaze flicking up at the grant-funded hotel as I pass by. A second later, my eyes are on the road again. “You want to go to Ritual?”

Lana gasps. “Skylar, you know that’s my favorite. What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”