Dr. Mercer sits behind his desk, his expression grave as I enter. A manila folder lies open in front of him, and he doesn’t look up immediately. Making me wait. Establishing dominance. Classic alpha power play.
“You wanted to see me?” I prompt, refusing to fidget under his scrutiny.
He finally meets my eyes. “Please, sit down.”
I take the chair across from him, folding my hands in my lap to keep them from trembling. Not from fear—from anger. I know exactly what’s coming, but that doesn’t mean I can avoid an emotional reaction to the unfairness of it all.
“I’ve received a rather disturbing complaint,” Mercer begins, tapping the folder with one finger. “About you.”
“I see.”
“According to this, you’ve been practicing medicine under false pretenses. Claiming to be a beta when you are, in fact, an omega.”
There it is. The accusation lands hard, even though I’ve been bracing for it. I take a breath, steadying myself.
“Is it true?” he asks, though his tone suggests he won’t be interested in anything I have to say.
I consider lying. Consider the years of work, the sacrifices, the dreams that hang in the balance. But I’m tired of hiding.
“Yes,” I say simply. “I am an omega.”
Mercer’s expression hardens. “You do understand the seriousness of this situation? You falsified medical documentation. You lied on your application. You’ve been treating patients while concealing your designation.”
“My designation has no bearing on my ability to practice medicine,” I reply, keeping my voice level. “My academic record and clinical performance speak for themselves.”
“That’s not for you to decide.” He closes the folder with finality. “I’ve been required to forward this complaint to the licensing board. And until their investigation is complete, I have no choice but to place you on administrative leave.”
Despite expecting it, the words still sting. “So I won’t be able to complete my rotation?”
“Likely not.” He at least has the decency to look somewhat regretful. “I’m sorry, Dr. Chang. I actually think you’re quite talented. But rules are rules.”
Rules created by idiot alphas who refuse to live in the twenty-first century, but I keep that observation to myself.
“I understand,” I say instead, rising from my chair. “I’ll clean out my locker.”
“Dr. Chang,” Mercer calls as I reach the door. I pause, looking back at him. The look of sympathy on his face is surprising, considering the circumstances. “I hear that we have you to thank not only for correctly diagnosing the children we’ve been seeing, but also for discovering the source of the heavy metal contamination. For what it’s worth, I hope the board is lenient. It would be a shame to lose a physician with your potential.”
I nod once, not trusting myself to speak, and exit his office.
I’m halfway down the hallway when Greta appears at my side, her eyes wide with concern.
“Is it true?” she whispers. “Are they really firing you?”
“Administrative leave,” I correct automatically, though the distinction hardly matters.
“But why? You’re the best resident we’ve had in years.”
I hesitate, then decide there’s no point in secrecy anymore. “Because I’m an omega.”
Her mouth forms a perfect O of surprise. “But how? You smell like a beta?—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I sigh, not wanting to delve into the details. “But someone filed a complaint, so…that’s that.”
“That’s not fair,” she says fiercely. “You’re a good doctor.”
“Thank you.” I swallow against the lump in my throat, blinking back tears.
I am a good doctor.
