Tangled

32 Ava: Omega? (V)

I study the large, imposing building as we approach, my brow furrowing slightly. The sleek, modern architecture is striking, but it’s the logo that catches my eye–a stylized wolf’s head, rendered in shades of gray,

“This is one of our pack’s facilities,” Clayton explains, no doubt noticing my curiosity. “A hospital, of sorts.”

A hospital run by shifters? The concept is as unsettling as it is intriguing. I can’t help but wonder what sort of medical practices they employ here, how different they might be from human hospitals.

Clayton ushers me through the ambulance bay, and I can’t resist glancing around, taking in the flurry of activity. Nurses and orderlies bustle about, their movements crisp and efficient. For a moment, it all seems so… normal. Like any other hospital.

But then I catch a glimpse of a patient being wheeled by on a gurney, and I suck in a sharp breath. His face is twisted in agony, body contorting unnaturally–no

doubt the result of an uncontrolled shift. A stark

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32 Ava: Omega? (V)

reminder that this place is anything but ordinary.

We step into an elevator, and Clayton punches the button for one of the upper floors. As the doors slide shut, I find myself keeping close to him, seeking reassurance in his steady presence. It’s like an aura around him that keeps me calm.

The ride is mercifully brief, and soon we’re stepping out onto a hushed hallway, our–footfalls clacking away on the tile, echoing around us. Clayton leads me to a private room, the door ajar.

“You’ll be comfortable here,” he says, his deep voice a low rumble. “One of our nurses will be in shortly to check on you.”

“Thank you.” I slip into the room, sinking gratefully onto the edge of the neatly made bed. Clayton leaves once I’m settled, and it’s as if I’m drained the moment

he walks away.

The room is spartan and sterile, but it has a large

that faces the

door opening pulls me from my observation, and I turn to see a young woman in scrubs entering the room, a clipboard

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Ava: Omega? (V)

me a warm, reassuring smile

says, her voice gentle. “I’m Nurse Jenna. I’ll be taking care

small nod in return, suddenly self–conscious under her attentive gaze. She begins checking my vitals, her movements deft and practiced, and

Almost.

Jenna asks, her brow creasing ever so slightly as she

sore,” I

after what you’ve been through,”

The word is

few more questions, dear. How old are

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you?”

question, feeling a flicker of uncertainty. “My age? I’m twenty.”

pen scratching across the paper. “And how many cycles have you experienced so far?”

blink at

in her expression, but she schools her features quickly. “Heat cycles? When a female shifter goes into heat–when she becomes fertile

up my neck.

I forgot that I was at a shifter

dull

time.”

brows lift,

scandalized–just curious. Professional. “I see. And have you noticed any changes

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recently? Increased sexual

head. “No, nothing like that. I feel

another note

then. It’s rare, but some omegas can

word niggles at the