Chapter 5 Faye
FIVE
Faye
After a few more amazing days bonding with my new Stella sisters, I’m itching to get started and grateful when the start of classes rolls around.
I scoff down a delicious blueberry and lemon muffin that Delilah baked the night before.
I don’t know how she has time to bake, but she’s able to whip up a scrumptious treat in seconds.
It’s not exactly a healthy breakfast, but the sugar boost is exactly what I need before my first class.
I have two courses with Professor Grub, who is one of the founding fathers of health botany. His books have been staple reads for me and Gram, so I feel like a giddy child waiting to meet Father Christmas for the first time.
I’m not the only one who is excited, though. By the time I reach the greenhouse, a line of first-year students are already waiting. I crane to get a better look at the dense greenery pressed against the panes.
“Look, it’s him!” someone shouts. “It’s him!”
“This way!” Professor Grub’s voice is different from what I expected. It’s nasally and wheezy with a high-pitched whiney edge, making every sentence sound like a complaint. “Follow me.”
We’re beckoned inside then jostled down a small path.
The humidity hits me the moment I walk inside.
Trying to ignore that, I look ahead of us to where an archway of vines form a tunnel.
The scents are overwhelming: geraniums, mint, eucalyptus, something rooty, mushrooms, garlic, and more unusual notes, like fig sap and passionflower.
At the end of the tunnel, it opens up into a teaching area where work benches are set up. They’re all equipped with sinks, scales, vials, mortars and pestles, and there’s a larger storage cabinet at the back, stuffed with supplies.
“Choose a bench!” Professor Grub claps his hands. “Come now! No time to waste!”
Everyone hurries to find a spot, and I select a bench right in the front. There are around fifteen of us. From what I can see, there are no alphas and only one other omega—which I find surprising, considering one of the primary uses for health botany is to help omegas.
Professor Grub is short and stout, with a balding head and a round tummy that his shirt buttons strain over. His shrewd, icy-blue eyes scan the room, examining each of us like he’s assessing plant roots to determine whether we’re rotten.
“Welcome to health botany,” he declares.
“This subject is a delicate art. A balance of nature and medicine. The epitome of natural healing. My previous students have become some of the most esteemed experts in the world.” He stops to soak in the awed rumblings.
“Before we begin, we will go over the greenhouse rules. All of my students have an entry pass, which you’ll collect from me today.
You are free to enter whenever you’d like.
However, be warned that we do house many poisonous plants that, when mixed incorrectly, could kill every alpha on campus. ”
A few girls gasp audibly, and I let out a shy giggle.
His head whips in my direction. “Do you find something funny?”
“N-n-no.” I feel my cheeks flush. I thought he was telling a joke. “S-s-sorry.”
“What’s your name?” he snaps.
“F-f-faye.”
“This class is one to be taken seriously, Faye.” The way his face distorts when he says my name makes it seem like he smelled something foul. “You omegas may think your enhanced scenting abilities will help in this class, but mixing herbs is about more than sensitive nostrils.”
The warmth in my cheeks spreads down my neck. Somehow, I’ve offended him and made a fool of myself in front of the class before we’ve even finished going over the rules.
“As I was saying…” Professor Grub glares at me before continuing. “While you will have unfettered access, make sure you treat all plants with care. We will start today’s class with a test.”
A test? On our first day? All of the saliva in my mouth seems to evaporate.
“In my hands, I’m carrying cards that have the names of twelve rare herbs that are hidden somewhere in this greenhouse.
” Professor Grub weaves his way between the tables.
“Herbs that are notoriously difficult to identify as they resemble many others. It will be your job to locate the herb on your card then make the elixir outlined underneath it.”
He pauses at each workbench, selecting cards for each student and handing them out.
“Easy,” one beta tsks. “Holy basil.”
Finally, Professor Grub reaches me.
“Ah, Faye.” He hands me the last card as his lips curl into a snide smile. “I’m sure you’ll find this one easy enough.”
My heart sinks when I turn it over and see a putri flower.
Not only has my earlier blunder left me with a difficult flower to find, but it’s especially dangerous for an omega to handle because of its potency.
If the petals are crushed, they release a particularly stinky odor that can burn an omega’s nostrils for a week.
I didn’t expect college professors to be so … cruel. Professor Grub watches me expectantly, as if awaiting my complaint. Instead, I nod dutifully, deciding I’ll use this as a chance to redeem myself.
“Very good,” he murmurs to me before he addresses the class. “Begin!”
Students dart in every direction, descending on the pruning shears in the storage cabinet and each grabbing a small wicker basket. I hang back, waiting until everyone has gathered what they need before I grab my things and follow a slender path deeper into the greenhouse.
The sounds around me instantly put me at ease—insects chirping, sprinklings whirring, bubbling brooks, and even a trickling stream.
From my earlier research, I know that the greenhouse is organized into different climate-controlled areas, and in addition to the main space, there are smaller biodomes for special plants.
After passing a wetter, mossier, marshland area, I look through the glass into another room filled with sand that hosts countless amounts of cacti.
The room next to that is a rich jungle area with gorgeous plants in tropical colors.
I rotate on the spot, slightly breathless, trying to soak in every detail, so I can tell Gram about it later. This is a plant lovers paradise.
I know the only other omega in class is approaching when I catch a hint of her scent—light citrus with a twist of violet.
Her long, black hair swishes around her waist with each stride before she stops and smiles almost pityingly at me.
“If it’s any consolation, I thought he was kidding around too. I’m Amora, by the way.”
“Faye,” I cringe. “But I guess everyone already knows that.”
“It’s only the first day. It’ll get better from here.” She turns her card over to show me her plant. “Not too hard, right? I’m heading to the swamp room.”
“Good call,” I reply then show her mine. “I’m looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“He should have given that card to a beta.” Frowning, she wrinkles her nose. “It’s dangerous, if you handle it the wrong way.”
“It’s supposed to be a test, right?” I shrug. “I figure I’ll have the best chance of finding it if I follow a water source.”
Putri flowers are usually found in rock pools, close to riverbeds and in dark caves.
“Have you been to that corner of the greenhouse yet?” Amora points over the top of some palms. “There’s an unlit room over there. It could be worth a look?”
“Thanks.” Even if she’s only taking pity on me, it’s nice that at least one person has been friendly today. “Fingers crossed.”
When we part ways, I venture to where she gestured.
In this part of the greenhouse, everything is strangely quiet.
The plants are dense, making it difficult to forge much of a path, so I have to be extra careful where I’m stepping until the cavernous room comes into view.
At first, I almost walk straight past it.
From the outside, it looks like a potting shed.
However, on second glance, I notice that the windows are completely blacked out, and a small, faded sign above the door reads: ‘Midnight Plants.’
I slink inside and close the door, leaving the lush forest behind.
I stand for a moment, breathing it in. The scents are even richer in here, so I inhale deeply, letting them fill me up.
Once my eyes have adjusted to the unique lighting, I have just enough visibility to pick my way ahead to follow the sound of a faint trickle.
This environment is completely different, sending a fresh surge of excitement racing through me.
I’m immediately cast in a soft-white glow, the light coming from tiny pinpricks in the bio-dome ceiling that resemble stars.
I could spend hours exploring every crevice of this greenhouse, pouring over the leaves and watching the flowers bloom across the seasons.
In front of me, a soft stream flows over jagged rocks.
That’s when I see it.
Beside the rocks is a putri flower.
I pull on my gloves then grab my bonsai shears from my basket, preparing to pluck it. I take my time, being cautious to perfectly preserve the flower head. Satisfied, I carefully hold on to its stem, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a new scent hits me.
My head snaps up, like a famished vampire getting its first smell of blood. The scent is subtle, but it’s so damn intoxicating.
“Sorry I didn’t see you there,” a male voice comes from behind me. “I thought I was alone.”
He takes a few steps forward, revealing a tall, lean alpha.
His messy, brown hair falls over his forehead, making it look like he was recently dragged through a hedge, and not in an intentional way.
To the contrary, his tortoise-shell glasses appear to be expensive, his button-down shirt unwrinkled and tucked in.
He clutches a copy of Bizarre Blooms, which is a brilliant guidebook for lesser-known, strange flowers.
“S-sorry.” I jump up. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“I’m Ren.” He’s soft spoken but a little breathy, making me want to lean in to hear him whisper secrets in my ear. “What’s your name? I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Faye.” He must be an older student. “It’s my first class with Professor Grub.”
“Faye. Lovely name.” God, I love the way my name sounds rolling off his tongue. “It suits you.”
Unused to compliments, I stand awkwardly, but my cheeks heat in pleasure from his praise.
“Thanks,” I mumble, suddenly even more aware that we’re standing very close together. Alone. In the dark.
Ren clears his throat. “I’m taking one of Grub’s classes as an elective this semester. I major in Literature, but I’ve always been interested in botany too.”
Maybe I’m being stereotypical, but I always thought that alphas were hypermasculine and aggressive by nature, but he seems to be nothing like that.
His scent makes me want to curl up next to him in a giant armchair and read.
He smells like writing on a rainy afternoon with fresh ink on thick parchment paper, combined with the warmth of Earl Grey tea wrapped in a lavender mist. And there’s something else hiding under the surface too…
The embers of a fire, a hint of smokiness.
Maybe it’s the flowers, or maybe it’s his scent, but a tight knot in my stomach lurches hard, causing me to wince. Then it happens again, spinning me into a panic.
No, not now. I’ve never missed a dose of my suppressants since my first and only heat. It can’t be…
Despite my inner pleas, my body has its own ideas.
The unmistakable prickling under my skin that comes before a heat dances up my arms and across my chest. Even though it’s been years, I recognize the distinct sensation instantly.
My breathing quickens, heightening all my senses.
All I want to do is launch myself into this random alpha’s arms and ask him to read to me dirty stories in his whispery voice until—
“Are you okay?” He squares his shoulders, his pianist’s fingers grasping his book tighter. Have hands always been so hot? How would his fingers feel against my skin? “Is that a putri flower you’re holding? You’re crushing…”
I can barely hear what he’s saying. A warmth rushes from my belly down into my core, then a gush of slick soaks my scent-blocking panties.
This can’t be happening! Not now!
My hand curls around the flowerhead, crushing the delicate petals.
The sharp odor of the flower is released, temporarily blotting out the alpha’s scent.
However, even the toxic fumes isn’t strong enough to expel him from my imagination entirely as my mind still wonders what it would be like to undress him under the moonlight.
Nope! I squeeze the flower like I’m trying to juice a lemon.
My nostrils are on fire, but it pulls me to my senses long enough to realize I have to go.
“I have to l-l-eave.” I almost stumble over a root as I stagger away.
“Wait!” Ren calls after me, but it’s too late.
I’m already running. I race out of the greenhouse, not even stopping by Professor Grub to excuse myself.
I have to get back to Stella House!