Page 177 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

Jax and I exchange looks. This is where things get complicated.

“We don’t have one,” I tell her.

Her eyebrows lift slightly. “None at all?”

“Like I said,” Jax’s voice is tight. “It’s complicated.”

She stands there for a moment, and I can see her weighing her options. Finally, she adjusts her grip on her medical bag. “Very well. I’ll need to do a complete workup then. Blood tests, hormone levels, the works.” She looks at us pointedly. “And I’ll need honest answers about her condition leading up to this pre-heat.”

At the top of the stairs, Dr. Greene sets her bag down and pulls out what looks like a small jar. The scent of blockers fills the air as she applies it methodically to her neck and wrists.

“Standard procedure,” she says, noticing our attention. “Even as a beta, we don’t want any outside scents disturbing an omega inpre-heat.” She pulls on a pair of latex gloves with practiced efficiency. “Especially not with two omegas in such close proximity.”

The way she says it—clinical, professional—almost masks her lingering surprise at the situation. Almost.

She approaches the nest room and knocks softly. “Finn? It’s Dr. Greene.”

Silence greets us. I can feel Jax shift beside me, his tension matching my own. We both know what’s happening in there, know that Finn won’t leave Hailey unless he’s certain she’s stable enough.

After what feels like an eternity, we hear movement inside. Soft whispers, the rustle of fabric, footsteps approaching the door.

When Finn finally opens it, the scent of omega heat rolls out like a wave, hitting us with a force that makes Jax and I stagger. Even Dr. Greene recoils slightly. Finn stands in the doorway, wearing only sweatpants, his skin flushed and hair mussed. His eyes are alert though, scanning all of us before settling on the doctor.

“Sarah,” he says softly, using her first name—a privilege earned over years of trust. “What are you—” His gaze shifts to Jax and me. “Thanks for coming.”

Dr. Greene steps inside, and I glimpse the nest through the doorway. The room is a mess of blankets and pillows, and there, in the center of it all, is Hailey. I go still. She’s wearing one of my old shirts Finn used to wear, the material slipping off one shoulder, her skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat. Her hair is wild, tangled from what I know has been hours of Finn helping her through the waves. She looks thoroughly debauched and absolutely perfect.

Finn moves back to her side immediately, and I notice Dr. Greene’s subtle observation of this movement—the way her eyes track how he positions himself next to Hailey, not in front, as would be expected with a rival omega, but supportively beside.

“Hailey,” Finn says softly, “this is Dr. Greene. She’s been my doctor for years.” He takes her hand, and again, I see the doctornoting this casual touch between omegas. “She’s good at what she does, and she’s discreet. You can trust her.”

The emphasis Finn puts on trust doesn’t go unnoticed. Dr. Greene’s expression remains professional, but there’s a slight tilt to her head that betrays her curiosity.

“Hello, Hailey,” she says, keeping her voice low and soothing. “May I sit?” She gestures to the edge of the nest.

Hailey glances at Finn, who nods encouragingly. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice hoarse. I suppress a growl at the memory of why.

Dr. Greene settles carefully, maintaining a respectful distance. “I understand you’re experiencing an unexpected pre-heat. Can you tell me when the symptoms first started?”

“Um…” Hailey says. “F-for a few days. But not like this.”

“What about before?” Dr. Greene prompts gently. “How have you experienced pre-heats previously?”

There’s a pause, and I see Finn open his mouth to answer, but Hailey beats him to it. “Suppressants,” she says finally. “I was on suppressants.”

Dr. Greene’s hands still where she’s been arranging her equipment. “Suppressants? For how long?”

“Since I revealed,” Hailey admits quietly.

The doctor’s professional mask slips for just a moment, genuine concern showing through. “And when was that?”

“Si—.” Hailey clears her throat. “Six years ago.”

From my position at the door, I can see Dr. Greene processing this information. Her eyes flick briefly to Finn, who’s still holding Hailey protectively, then back to her patient.

“I see,” she says carefully. “And when did you stop taking them?”

“Not long. A few weeks ago,” Hailey whispers. “When I…” she glances toward the door where Jax and I stand, then back to Finn.

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