Not that I wouldn’t be just as protective of an omega if I were bonded. The familiar pang of loneliness seized my chest. I pushed my feelings aside and pulled up room eight’s chart.
Westin Anderson, age twenty-five.Unbonded.
I let out a sigh of relief. Thank god I wouldn’t have to fend off a pack of crazed alphas. I frowned as I looked over the rest of the chart. She had come in because she’d passed out, but they hadn’t run any tests on her yet. At the bottom of the page, a note read,“The omega has a long history of lying and making up symptoms for attention. She is highly manipulative and future care team members must proceed with caution.”
Shit. I steeled myself as I walked towards her room, unsure what I was getting myself into. But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I opened the door.
Ava.
The world stopped turning as I took in the omega who I’d spent the most incredible night of my life with. She was curled up in bed, almost completely covered by the thin hospital blanket, but I would recognize that silver hair and those big brown eyes anywhere.
Her eyes widened and she tried to sit up, wincing as she did.
“Here,” I said, moving quickly to her side and arranging the pillows to support her.
“Nox?” she whispered.
I shifted my weight awkwardly. “It’s Liam. And you’re Westin?”
She nodded, still looking disoriented. “You work here?”
“Yeah. I was assigned to you, but I swear I didn’t know who you were when I got your chart. If it makes you uncomfortable, I could transfer you to someone else.” I almost growled at the thought of anyone else getting close to her. I felt even more possessive of her than I had that night, especially since she looked so tired and vulnerable.
“No,” she said quickly, her hand twitching like she wanted to reach out and grab me. “Please don’t leave.” There was an edge of panic in her voice.
“Okay, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” The term of endearment rolled off my tongue before I could stop it, and my face heated. Something about this omega made me lose control, and I wished more than anything she could be mine. Except… what did that note in her chart mean?
“You’re too hot to work in the hospital,” Westin murmured, her eyelids growing heavy.
I snorted out a laugh and my cheeks burned. “Is that right?”
She groaned and covered her face with her hands. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“You’re cute,” I said. “Now, what’s going on? Your chart says you passed out.”
She uncovered her face and met my gaze, biting her lip.
“I got dizzy,” she said, her voice soft.
“Does that happen a lot?” I asked, my chest feeling tight.
She nodded.
“Are you experiencing any other symptoms?”
Her breaths were coming faster now and I breathed in automatically, expecting to read her emotions through her scent. Then it hit me—she didn’t have a scent. Was she using blockers again?
“My head hurts all the time,” she whispered, eyes flitting to the door. “And sometimes I get so tired I can’t get out of bed.”
“Why haven’t you gone to a doctor before now?” I asked, trying to keep the harshness out of my tone. Why wasn’t she caring for herself? She needed someone to protect her.
Westin’s expression shuttered and she shifted so she was staring at the back wall, an unsettling blankness in her eyes. “No one believes me, anyway.”
My mind went to the note in her chart. What happened to put that there? It was obvious just looking at Westin that she wasn’t feeling well. There were dark marks under her eyes and her skin was pale. Before I could ask her anything else, the door opened.
“Who the fuck are you?” a low voice growled.
I whirled around and was faced with a pissed-off alpha dressed in all black.
