Page 2 of Examining the Bond

“If I'm not an omega, does that make me,” I clear my throat to keep my voice from breaking, “an alpha?”

The doctor shakes his head again, his dark hair too perfect and his blue eyes emotionless, concealing any shred of sympathy. He's just a stranger in a lab coat. He doesn't care that the paper in his hands has just destroyed everything I know about my life.

Everything I know aboutmyself.

“No,” he says, his mouth curving downward in a frown. “Your blood also lacks the compound for the alpha gene.”

I blanch. “You're not about to stand there and tell me I'm a beta, are you?”

There's no way I'm a fucking beta, not that it's the worst thing in the world to be. A beta wouldn't be here right now having their entire designation questioned. Scents and perfumes might not affect me like one, but that's the only thing we have in common. They don't perfume or go into heat like I do, and they certainly don't have weird rut spells like I did last month…

“You're an enigma, Miss Saunders.”

I cock an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me? Is that some weird fourth designation I’m supposed to know about?”

He chuckles, which only infuriates me more. “No. You're a mystery. We aren't quite sure what's going on with you.”

Not sure?How the hell are they not sure?This is the third clinic I’ve been to looking for answers, my very last option in the state. If they can’t tell me what’s going on, who the hell can?

Panic grips my chest, my pulse lurching.

“So where do I go from here?” My voice sounds distant to my own ears. “The academy wants answers; they’ll kick me out if I can’t prove I’m an omega.”

“We’d like to refer you to the Buchanan Center for Designation Research in Boston,” he says very matter-of-factly.

“Boston, Massachusetts?"My face falls. “But that’s… so far.”

“Eighteen hours, give or take. Less if you’re flying.” His gaze softens, his mask of professionalism wavering. “But they’re equipped to perform the tests we need to investigate further,” he assures me. “Unfortunately, we're just not set up here for those kinds of things.”

Those kinds of things.

I can't help but wonder what kind of tests they'll have to run to figure out what’s going on. Will they need pints of my blood? Will it hurt? Will they need to cut into my brain to figure out what the fuck went wrong with it?

I shudder at the possibility.

“I don't have money for a trip,” I say, mostly to myself, the depression in my chest growing heavier. I spent the last bit of cash I had on the three-hour bus trip to get here.

How am I supposed to afford a plane ticket and a hotel?

Even before my parents died, we didn't have a lot of money—Dad lost a lot more than familial ties when he left his pack. In fact, if it wasn't for the academy stepping up and footing my tuition, I wouldn't be there at all. They agreed to cover the doctor visits and testing because they deemed it necessary to continue my education, but I doubt they'll pay for a trip to Boston plus a hefty doctor bill.

“The program is grant-funded,” he goes on, seeing the worry in my eyes. “All you'd have to cover is your trip there. Testing and lodging are included.”

The thought of grant funding momentarily alleviates some of the weight on my shoulders, even if I still have to work out howto get there. However, the relief is quickly replaced by a prickle of nerves crawling up my spine. I shift on the exam table, the thin paper lining crinkling in protest. The idea of being trapped in a clinic one thousand miles away, being poked and prodded by a bunch of doctors, has my anxiety on full alert.

I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a movie or two like that, and they never go well.

My lips purse as I mull over the information, my feet swinging restlessly off the edge of the table.

A grant-funded program for people like me?Are there other omegas going through the exact same thing?Maybe it includes all designations with weird symptoms.

Or maybe I’m the only one and they’ll treat me like a science experiment.

I inhale a shaky breath, trying to rein in my thoughts.

“How soon would I have to go?” I ask, considering my classes at the academy. I have no idea how long a trip like that would take.

But I guess if they’re going to kick me out, it doesn’t really matter.