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I huff. “Bless your heart, who’s that true about?”

She doesn’t look offended.

Instead, she pushes a cup of steaming tea toward me, and I wrinkle my nose at the calming herbal scent. “Have a drink.”

“Drugging me already…?”

“You’ve caught onto my dastardly plan. It’s made with wild lemon bee balm.”

I sniff, delighted by the intense citrus and spicy oregano scent.

I warm my hands on the mug before taking a sip.

My mouth waters at the savory taste.

Damn that’s good.

It’s like drinking Texas itself. How did someone invent this?

I snuggle lower in the seat, taking another slurp.

Dr. Lawson smiles. “Did my gift win your attention?”

I lick my lips. “I’m listening. Also, I’ve filled in about a thousand lists with my needs, limits, safe words, boundaries, consent, and⁠—”

“Ten. There were only ten forms.”

I rub my hand over the velvet chair, before gesturing around at the luxurious office. “This isn’t what I was expecting.”

She arches her brow. “You’re a VIP.”

I stare at the doctor blankly.

I come from a poor town, which is struggling to survive. I have worked my ass off for years toward a dream, which will only exist for three more weeks before my inn is auctioned off.

This is the first day in a year that I have even worn shoes.

A VIP?

Has she mistaken me for someone else?

Seeing my confusion, Dr. Lawson picks up a tablet that rests beside her chair. The screen glows against the ambient lighting of the therapy room.

I narrow my eyes. “Why couldn’t I have had one of those?”

Without looking at me, she glides a stylus over the tablet. “Because research shows that Omegas with your sensory needs respond well to the feel of a pencil in their hand.”

I poke at the pencil graveyard on the coffee table. “My research says that yours is bullshit.”

Dr. Meredith turns the tablet to show me the screen. “Your plan, see? It is the elite package.”

My eyes burn. “This is Beau’s package.”

“It’s paid for, and it’s meant for you.”

There she goes again, avoiding saying my old pack’s name. Ever since I have stepped in here, she has danced around my situation.

“It’s from Beau and Evan,” I press. “The Monarchs. They have names.”