Page 126 of Knot Their Omega

“1999,” Dr. Malcom announces, making us even more uncertain about what he’s trying to portray to us. “That’s how many Alphas have rejected treatment.” When we exchange looks, Dr. Malcom adds, “In the last month.”

My jaw drops.

“From my doctoral institute alone,” he reveals. “This is not a hospital or clinic statistic. This is the number of Alphas who have rejected my treatment this month, despite learning of their incurable health status that will lead them to an early grave within three to six months.”

When we can’t comprehend it all, he shrugs.

“What stops us the most in retrieving life-saving treatment for the Alpha population isn’t solely due to money or the government’s ignorance,” he declares. “It’s your anatomy that makes you all stubborn, cocky assholes who believe you’re invincible.”

He points over to Nathan Jr., looking even more disappointed at his sleeping frame.

“I’ll bet you one million dollars, I will tell your packmate his diagnosis and prognosis, and he will laugh in my face. He will laugh long and hard as though he’s not on a ticking time bomb and insult my intelligence and schooling because he’s invincible. His family is all in good health, so there’ll be no possible way for such a young Alpha like him to suffer such a short, tragic end,” he summarizes as if he can see it unravel before his eyes. “I’ll suggest he looks at the documents, and he won’t. He’ll call me any word that portrays a medical fraud and request to be discharged because he has places to see, things to do, and random Omega prostitutes to fuck.”

“He can’t fuck,” Nathaníel notes. “In fact, he can’t be sexually active, can he?”

“He shouldn’t,” Dr. Malcom answers calmly. “But the internal health decline will spike his sexual drive. The craving for the rut blockers will also grow the moment we try to wean him off of them, seeing as he’s been addicted to them since his teenage years. His denial, matched with the mere idea of him losing out on life itself, will drive him into partying harder, fucking more, and competitively proving he has plenty of life left in him to do what he wants. To him, all of this will be some sort of ploy scare to force him into accepting Astraea as the Omega of the group,” he summarizes.

I may not want to accept that everything that’s being portrayed is something Nathan Jr. would do, but I won’t act oblivious that everything Dr. Malcom said is true.

“So… my brother is fucked,” Nathaníel concludes.

I have to look at him because the slight tremble in his voice makes me realize how hard this must be for him to take in.

Especially when it was only a few years ago when he lost Suzy.

“I only have one very vigorous treatment plan for these cases, but I doubt Nathaniel will go through it,” Dr. Malcom admits. “And if it’s not started ASAP, conducting it will only be in vain with such a tiny life expectancy.”

“We can force him to take it,” Nathaníel suggests. “Has anyone survived these measures you suggest? Is there maybe a way to contact the survivor to come and speak to my brother and make him realize how serious this is?”

“Yes. One person has survived the measures I have in mind,” he reveals, giving us a spike of hope. “But again, I doubt their arrival will be the push your brother needs to realize every precious second wasted could bring him a step closer to salvation.”

“We can try,” I urge. “Please, Dr. Malcom. Who is the survivor? Are you able or allowed to share such info? Would they be willing to help?”

“Of course, they’re willing to help,” Dr. Malcom emphasizes. “And as to who the survivor is, well… you’re looking at them.”

We stare back at him in disbelief, catching on rather quickly.

“You…” It’s the only word I can get out.

“And you’re still alive…” Nathaníel acknowledges the obvious.

“Diagnosed at twenty-five. Forced into vigorous therapy for six months. Was cancer-free in a year. Do preventative therapy once every quarter to ensure it stays that way while monitoring my current health status.”

“Forced.” I try to wonder who would have forced him into doing this.

“Either I lost the Omega I was madly in love by not doing therapy or lost everything,” he summarizes with a shrug. “My risky pregnant Omega was going to deal with worrying about my ass to the point of losing her surprise baby. So I was left with a choice.”

He looks specifically at me.

“And that choice is the reason why you, of all people, have to be the leader of the pack dealing with the same instance we dealt with twenty-plus years ago.” He gives me a sad smile. “I don’t regret Velvet forcing me. In fact, I’m in forever debt to her because my ego back then would have landed me in an early grave.”

He leans forward to place his elbows on the desk and press his hands together.

“I pray Nathaniel gets the wakeup call he needs to face this merciless storm, but remember, at the end of the day, it’s his choice to accept his fate or live in denial. Doesn’t matter howmuch you want to save him. He has to want to be able to save himself.”

“Did you want to save yourself back then?” I ask, looking him dead in the eye.

“I did,” he confesses, the admission barely audible. “Because after all the partying, the drugs, the lies, and endless laughter, I knew in my heart that not one of those individuals who revolved their life around me would be at my funeral.”

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