It seemed as though the examination was never ending. Vaginal samples, blood taken, saliva and perspiration. The specialists were so thorough and intent they had her ready to scream more than once. She’d thrown up twice, and though the doctor’s touch was uncomfortable, it wasn’t horrendous. It was just sickening.
For more than four hours she endured it before lifting her hand as they came at her again.
“Enough.” She really didn’t want to throw up again.
Drs. Armani and Sobolova shared a concerned look before turning back to her.
“Don’t argue with me,” she snapped. “I’ve had it. I’m showering, dressing and returning to my room.”
“The more samples we can get before your mate arrives, the better,” Sobolova stated. “He’s not known for his cooperation, Cassie. And such males can be territorial …”
“Then he can be territorial by himself.” She lifted her shoulder in unconcern as she slid from the table, aware of her mother’s silence as she stood next to the examination bed. “Now, leave me alone.”
“Elizabeth.” Armani turned to her mother almost beseechingly. “Talk to her.”
Gathering her clothes, Cassie wondered if this would be the one time her mother sided against her.
“Cassie’s made her decision,” her mother stated though her expression was concerned. “You have all you’re going to get at the moment. Besides, according to her father”—she tapped the communications device at her ear—“her mate’s arrived. As soon as Cassie’s taken to her suite he’ll be here for his own examination.”
Cassie tensed. His examination? They’d touch him? See him naked and aroused? Something feral rose inside her.
Before she could halt the sound, a low growl left her throat as her gaze sliced to Armani and Sobolova.
“Cassie.” Elizabeth Sinclair stepped between her and the doctors. “The males don’t receive a physical examination. They won’t allow a female’s touch this early in the mating, I promise you that.”
Of course they didn’t. She knew that.
God what was wrong with her? It wasn’t as though she wanted him herself, did she?
“I’m not feeling well, Mom,” she said faintly, pushing past her mother and heading for the showers. “I’m sorry.” She hated this. The arousal tearing her apart, making her hypersensitive. She hated what this mating shit was doing to her. All the dark, furious emotions she’d kept buried so deep inside her were pushing at the shield she’d always kept in place, trapping them.
Those emotions terrified her. She’d kept them locked inside her for so long that she feared what would happen if they suddenly surged free. And what she was experiencing now was tempting them in ways she couldn’t bear.
As she stepped from the shower fifteen minutes later and hurriedly dried and dressed, a knock at the door assured her that her mother had waited long enough to talk to her.
The woman who had risked her own life, countless times, to save her. The mother who had fought for her, nearly died for her. And believed in the goodness Cassie showed the world. She never, never wanted her mother to know what she hid inside. She didn’t ever want to see the distaste and disappointment she was certain her mother would feel if she even suspected the animal Cassie kept contained.
“Cassie?” The door opened as she finished dressing.
The black silk slacks and matching T-back camisole gave her a small feeling of confidence. Sliding her feet into the four-inch heels, she met her mother’s gaze as Elizabeth pushed open the door.
“Well, that wasn’t fun.” She gave a small, uncomfortable laugh as her mother stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “No wonder everyone avoids it as much as possible.”
Her mother watched her intently. “It’s usually quite painful actually. The first year your father and I were mated, it would feel as though knives were piercing my skin at times.”
She could hear the question in her mother’s statement. Why wasn’t the effect so extreme with her daughter as well?
“Ask Drs. Frankenstein,” she said with a snort as she removed the ebony hair sticks she used to pin her hair out of the way of the water.
Her mother simply stood still and silent, watching her.
God, her mom didn’t look any older than she did when Cassie was nine. In fifteen years, she didn’t appear to have aged a year. Her skin was still unblemished, her blue eyes sharp and missing little. Dark brown hair fell just below her shoulders, and she was still trim, with a slight athletic build.
Her mother trained often with her father, believing that should danger come, she should fight at her mate’s side, not wait for him to protect her. And many times she’d had to do just that. Fight at his side to help protect her family.
“Cassie.” There was a bit of chastisement in her mother’s voice. “Talk to me.”
Cassie shook her head, frustration and even fear building inside her. “What do you want me to say?” she demanded, more agitated now than she had been during the examination. “You said my mate was here. I need to see him.”