Page 127 of Claiming the Pack's Omega
And Killian did it?
Broody, authoritative, dick-headed Killian?
Well, when I put it that way, it would make sense that someone like him could pass something like that with a council full of old douchebags.
“Someone from the office or I will call you when we have the results of the testing, sound good?”
“Sure,” I say, nodding slowly. “Is that it?”
“Quicker than you expected, huh?”
“Yeah, I was expecting a lot more, for whatever reason.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep Killian waiting out there too long, he seems to get a little moody when he’s off schedule. Please text or call me if there’s anything you need, okay?” She says, standing from her seat.
I follow her and offer her a nod.
“Thanks, Charlotte.”
I leave the exam room and head back to outside, my heart beating a little faster at the thought of seeing Killian again. Because now I know he’s probably one of my scent matches. One of my fated mates.
CHAPTER 28
Killian
Istare down at my phone screen, my jaw clenching at the name popping up there.
Mother.
It’s such a bizarre thing, how something so simple can leave me reeling. Seeing her name pop up on my screen tends to leave me feeling like a little kid, desperate for some sort of acknowledgement I never received. Hell, I gave up on love and affection really early on. I truly wasn’t asking very much of her or my father.
“I’ve got to take this,” I say, lifting my phone as I nod to the nurse typing away at the reception desk. “If Reyna comes out, please tell her I’m just outside in the car.”
I take a deep breath as I answer her call.
“Good afternoon, Mother,” I say, bracing myself.
“Took you long enough to answer my calls," she sniffs. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?”
“I’ve been incredibly busy, Mother. You know that.”
“You shouldn’t be busy, I know it’s your lunch break, according to that schedule you still send us every week. Don’t forget that I know exactly how many times you let the phone ring before picking up.”
“I had to get somewhere private,” I say, wrenching the driver’s side door to my SUV harder than necessary before sliding in. “You know I skip my lunch break to work, most days, anyway.”
“You skip your calls with your Mother too, how ungrateful.”
I feel a headache starting to build, running behind my eyes from temple to temple like there’s a vice that’s being screwed shut tighter and tighter.
I pinch the bridge of my nose to try and relieve some of the tension. It only works because she’s stopped talking, waiting for me to respond.
Probably with profuse apologies, like I would when I was younger.
I don’t do those anymore. Apologies only seemed to cement my guilt in whatever perceived crime I’d committed, and the rest of my family was swift in enacting their version of punishment. Even if their punishments were nowhere near proportional to the crime.
“Why are you calling, Mother?” I sigh, exhausted from this conversation already.
“I want to see you. You’ve been avoiding the house.”
