Emily sat hunched in her wheelchair in the sterile waiting area, cheeks still flaming crimson from the mortifying exam with Dr. Ana.
She hadn't anticipated those gloved fingers probing her most intimate places—clinical or not, the slick betrayal of her omega body lingered like a fresh wound, heat pooling unbidden at the memory.
And pheromone therapy? Heat stimulation with all her alphas present? Dread knotted her gut tight, yet a traitorous thrill flickered too—curvier hips, fuller breasts, more beautiful, fully omega.
Reyes had stepped out to grab her test results, leaving her alone with her humiliation, milky white hands trembling faintly as she reached for her water bottle, arms aching from post-physio weakness.
