Page 58 of Examining the Bond

Sure, the situation is a little unconventional, but so far nothing about the past year has been normal. And definitely nothing between Skylar and me.

Somehow, in a weird way, this is exactly what I need.

Next come the tests, which I feel better about now that my body is sated. I’m still not thrilled about the idea of being poked and prodded like a lab rat.

I fill two test tubes with spit—extra thankful for the bottle of water—and someone comes to take several vials of blood. Skylar said she was alone until lunch, so I assume they work in another part of the building. Seeing the tubes of crimson makes me light-headed, and I quickly nibble at a cookie to chase away the threat of passing out.

How I still have any blood left to give after this week is beyond me…

After that, I agree to an MRI, which isn't awful aside from the steady whir of machinery while it takes pictures of me from head to toe. I lose myself to images of Skylar fucking me in the exam room, playing it over and over in my head for nearly an hour while I'm in the giant tube, thankful it can't photograph what's on my mind.

They run so many tests I lose count, but I do them happily. If it helps Skylar in her studies, I'll gladly oblige, especially because I don't know how long I'll remain a delta. At the rate we're going, and our complete inability to keep our hands off one another, I'm hoping Skylar will offer me her mark sooner than later.

Is it crazy to bond with an alpha so soon? Probably, but nothing else makes sense. There are tons of stories about alphas and omegas sharing a bite almost as soon as they meet. Why couldn’t it be the same for us?

Everything feels so impossibly perfect when we're together, like a missing piece of a puzzle has finally fallen into place, and I know she feels it too.

She has to.

If I play my cards right, she'll bite me before I fly back to Georgia in a couple of days. Then, I won’t have to worry aboutmy enrollment at the academy at all. I’ll be bonded to my alpha, and I can forget about all my problems after that.

A bashful smile crosses my face at the thought of what we could have together, and my stomach flutters. Moments later, the MRI machine turns off, and I'm once again swallowed in silence.

When the table I'm on retracts, Skylar is standing there smiling down at me, and my heart skips a little beat.

“How'd I do?” I ask awkwardly, not sure how it's possible to fuck up lying perfectly still, but if there's one person who can mess it up, it's me.

“You did great.” Her smile widens, but it doesn't quite meet her eyes. The suppressants are still bogging her down, but I can see glimpses of her normal self peeking through.

She offers me her hand, and I let her help me up. “What's next?”

Her answer catches me off guard. “Lunch.”

“Right.” I try not to sound disappointed as my chest deflates—after all, I've spent the entire morning with her already—but a loneliness stirs in me at the thought of going back to the hotel.

“Yep. Hurry up and change back into your clothes, and we'll find somewhere to eat.” Her eyes fall to the pale blue hospital gown I’m wearing, and her voice drops to a whisper. “Unless you'd rather wear that. I personally won't object to your ass being out the whole time. It could even be dessert…”

The gasp I let out echoes through the MRI room, bouncing off every surface. I frantically look toward the door, worried about eavesdroppers.

“Are you insane?” I hiss. “What if someone hears you?”

“There's no one out there.”

“And what do you meanwe'llfind something to eat?” I blanch. She can’t be implying that we go together.

Can she?

“You don't have to go with me if you don't want to,” she says, her features sagging with a tinge of disappointment. “I just thought… you might want to spend time together somewhere other than here.”

Her words hang in the air between us, and I just keep staring at her like an idiot.

Am I dreaming?

Did I fall asleep and wake up in some kind of alternate reality?

“What happened to keeping this a secret?” I gesture between us, keeping my voice low. She might not be worried about people in the hall, but my nerves are on high alert. “Won't you get in trouble?”

She shrugs. “It’s fine. I'll tell them that in exchange for letting us run all these tests you demanded French fries.”