Page 34 of Knot the Alphas' Feral Omega

“...should have been able to shift back by now.” The voice was female and whiny. My ears immediately flattened against my head, and I flinched away from the shrill sound of it.

A lower, much more soothing voice hummed, and I relaxed. “You never know what she went through to put her in this state,” a male said. “If it was traumatic enough...” He trailed off, and I listened more intently, my stomach twisting at what he might be implying, whoever this person was.

His female companion seemed to feel similarly. “What are you saying?” she scoffed. “That she might never shift back? That she’ll be stuck as a wolf forever?”

The male voice hummed again. “It’s quite possible.”

The conversation around me continued, but I faded out of it again, my mind shying away from the pain of what the voices had said.

I was still. My muscles were stiff. I couldn’t move, and as more and more time went on...I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to.

Why wasn’t anybody looking for me?

Why had everybody forgotten me?

17

Killian

Melvin Rehabilitation was a tall, imposing building at the edge of town. I felt my heart pound in my chest as I walked up to the front of it, my motorcycle parked in one of the empty employee spots.

Let them try to tow me. I almost wanted them to. I was itching for a fight—more of one than I was going to get from the stupid fucking administration when I finally made my way inside.

It had taken nearly a week before I could meet with the Melvin admissions staff. I’d raged about it, but every time I’d called to try and move the meeting up, I’d been told—by someone who sounded far too snotty for their own good—that the schedule at Melvin was firm. If I wanted to speak to their Director about one of the patients, I would have to wait for the first available appointment.

Katrina had been understandably upset about the delay when I told her about it, and there weren’t even any comforting words I could offer her to make her feel better about the situation. Her health was withering more and more by the day, and every day Lilah stayed behind the walls of Melvin was another day that she wouldn’t get to spend with her mother before she succumbed to her illness.

All of this had put me in a pissy-ass mood, and Oliver and Emmett had both gone out of their way to avoid me in the days since I’d returned to the packhouse.

The first day, Oliver had sought me out, but I had refused to acknowledge him. It didn’t matter what he had to say; the way he’d treated Lilah was absolutely inexcusable, especially when he had done so without talking to the rest of us first. Now that I knew Katrina’s history with Hunter, Oliver’s decision was even more reprehensible, and it only took a few tries of trying to get me to speak to him—and being firmly rebuffed—before Oliver finally gave up and slunk away.

A torn part of me felt bad for ignoring my packmate. We had been best friends for so many years and had chosen to form this pack together because we couldn’t imagine anything coming between the four of us. Then Jack had been murdered, and the grief had bound the rest of us together even more tightly, making us impenetrable to anything from the outside.

None of us had anticipated such a shakeup in our internal dynamic, though. I could tell that Oliver felt a little out of sorts, trying to figure out what he could do to help me feel better about the situation.

But there was nothing hecoulddo. The only thing that would make me feel better was having Lilah back under our roof, in my arms, where I could make sure that she was okay, twenty-four hours a day.

I had the feeling she would need constant support from the moment I got her out.

I blew out a breath and shoved my hands into the pockets of my slacks as I finally walked up to the front door of the building and let myself in.

The building was quiet inside, eerily so, and the receptionist looked up at me with a creepy, uncanny valley-type smile. “Can I help you with something?” she asked, her voice painfully pleasant.

I fought back the urge to growl before I offered her a small, shallow smile of my own. “I’m here to meet with Director Marcus,” I said, shoving my hands deeper into the pockets of my pants. I curled my hands into fists out of sight and ignored the way that my claws pricked at my palms as I fought my partial shift.

Lilah was here. I could feel her presence vibrating through my bones, begging me to look for her. My wolf howled, lashing at the mental restraints I had placed on myself on the drive over, and I took a slow, shaky breath as the receptionist looked at her computer and clicked a few times, seeming to take her sweet-ass time.

”Oh yes,” she finally said after an agonizing wait, looking back up at me with that same unsettling smile. “He’s waiting for you. If you’ll follow me.”

She stood up and walked over to the door to the side of her desk. A low buzz sounded as she opened it up to let me in. The hallway beyond was long and starkly white, and I saw a few doctors bustling around as the receptionist led me down and then to the right. I glanced over my shoulder and saw more doctors and what looked like a few patients shuffling around in the hallway that extended the other way, and my wolf growled again, desperate to go hunting for our mate.

The receptionist knocked smartly on the door at the end of the hallway she led me to, and a moment later, she smiled at me and opened the door. “Go on,” she said placidly, gesturing me in.

I hadn’t heard anyone tell us to come in from the other side of the door, and for a moment, I hesitated. Then, I gritted my teeth and brushed past her, letting myself into the office and ignoring the sense of trepidation that filled me as the door closed smartly behind me.

I didn’t care what I had to do. If I wasn’t walking out of here with Lilah today, I was damn well going to get a date and time when I could come and retrieve her. Otherwise, I was going to break my pact of silence with Oliver, and we’d raise hell together.

A tall, middle-aged man was sitting behind the desk in the middle of the room, typing leisurely on the computer in front of him. His graying hair was brushed back neatly, and his suit was pressed and tailored. He gestured at the chair in front of his desk without looking at me, clearly commanding me to sit, and I obeyed the silent order after a moment, my hackles raising as I folded my arms over my chest.

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