Page 39 of Wisteria and Cloves
His directness was refreshing after a lifetime of veiled meanings and hidden expectations. "I appreciate that," I said softly.
"Most do, eventually." His fingers drummed lightly on the violin case. "You should know that while we are pursuing this courtship with genuine intent, none of us will pressure you toward bonding before you're ready. If ever."
I blinked in surprise. "If ever?"
"Yes." His gaze was steady, unflinching. "Bonding should be a choice made from desire, not obligation. If, after getting to know us, you decide this pack isn't right for you, we will respect that decision."
The concept was so foreign I struggled to process it. "But the arrangement... the…” I stuttered out trying to find the right words.
"The arrangement was made between your parents and Julian," Nicolaus interrupted, his voice firm. "Not between us and you. You were not a party to those negotiations, which means you are not bound by their terms."
I stared at him, my mind reeling. "I don't understand. My parents said—"
"Your parents said many things that were either incomplete truths or outright falsehoods," Nicolaus replied, his analytical tone cutting through my confusion. "Legally speaking, any contract involving your future would require your explicit consent to be binding. Since you were never consulted during the negotiation process, you retain full autonomy over your decisions."
The room seemed to tilt around me. "You're saying I could leave? Just... walk away?"
"Yes." His answer was simple, unequivocal. "Though I hope you won't want to, once you've had time to know us.”
The silence stretched between us as I absorbed what he'd just told me. True choice. Not the illusion of options carefully curated by my parents, but genuine autonomy over my own future. The concept was so staggering I feltdizzy.
"Why are you telling me this?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Wouldn't it be easier to let me believe I had no choice? That I was... obligated to make this work?"
Nicolaus's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Because informed consent is the only kind that matters. Any relationship built on the illusion of no alternatives is fundamentally flawed." He paused, his analytical gaze never wavering from mine. "We want you to choose us, Lilianna. Not because you feel trapped, but because you genuinely want to be here."
I pulled the comforter tighter around myself, using the soft fabric as a shield against emotions I couldn't quite process. "I don't know how to choose," I admitted. "I've never been allowed to."
"Then that's where we begin," Nicolaus said, his voice gentle despite its directness. "With small choices that build toward larger ones. What to eat, what to wear, when to sleep. Gradually expanding to more significant decisions." He stood, straightening his shirt with precise movements. "It's a skill like any other—one that improves with practice."
I nodded, feeling both overwhelmed and strangely comforted by his methodical approach. "Thank you for being honest with me."
"Always," he replied simply. "Honesty is the foundation of trust, and trust is essential for any pack bond to function properly." He moved toward the door, then paused. "One more thing—your heat."
I tensed immediately, years of conditioning making the subject taboo and shameful. "What about it?"
"The suppressants your parents put you on—they're going to need to be gradually reduced rather than stopped abruptly. I've arranged for a consultation with a specialist who works exclusively with Omegas transitioning off long-term suppression." His tone remained clinical, matter-of-fact. "Dr. Chen is discreet and experienced. She'll develop a plan that minimizes discomfort while allowing your natural cycles to return."
My face burned with embarrassment. "I... my parents said my heats were... inappropriate. Something to be managed and controlled."
"Your parents were wrong about many things," Nicolaus said firmly. "Your heat cycle is a natural biological function, not something shameful. When you're ready—if you're ready—we'll help you through the transition. But the decision about timing is entirely yours."
The casual way he discussed something so intimate and shameful in my upbringing left me speechless. He spoke of my heat like it was simply another aspect of health to be managed thoughtfully rather than a source of disgrace to be hidden.
"The appointment is scheduled for Thursday if you're comfortable with that timing," he continued, his professional demeanor never wavering. "But it can be rescheduled if you need more time to adjust."
"Thursday is... Thursday is fine," I managed, though my voice sounded small even to my own ears.
Nicolaus nodded once, his hand resting on the doorframe. "Dr. Chen will meet with you privately first, then with all of us together if you choose to include us in the discussion. Everything will be at your pace, according to your comfort level."
The idea that I would have control over such personal medical decisions felt revolutionary. "My parents always handled my healthcare. I never spoke directly to them.”
Nicolaus's expression darkened slightly. "Of course they did. Controlling your medical care is another way to maintain dependency." He straightened his shoulders, his analytical mind clearly processing this new information. "Dr. Chen practices patient-centered care. She'll speak directly to you, answer your questions, and treat you as the primary decision-maker regarding your health."
I nodded, trying to imagine what that would be like—having a doctor who viewed me as a person rather than a problem to be managed or a responsibility to be handed off.
"If you have questions before Thursday, I'm happy to answer them," Nicolaus offered, his voice softening slightly. "Medical terminology can be intimidating when you've been deliberately kept ignorant of your own physiology."
"Thank you," I whispered, touched by his perception of my situation. "I might take you up on that."
