Daughter of Garnet (Garnet Omega #1)

1. Zoe

Zoe

When the world is divided into three parts, it’s almost impossible to have equality. We’re taught that this is how it’s always been and how we’re meant to live. Only a few seem to be happy about it, but that’s the mark of a good compromise, right?

The final year of university has come and gone, and now it is my turn to be divided. Assigned a designation that will affect the rest of my life.

“There are benefits and pitfalls to all designations,” my mother told me once when I was just a young girl. “Wishing for one over the others is like wishing for which direction the wind blows. There is no benefit, and the trajectory may change at any time. Until it is done, it is unknown.”

I had looked up at her then, so fast she almost ripped my hair out as she tried to brush out the tangles. “But why don’t we know what we’re going to be? You and Dad are Betas. Isn’t it most likely that I will be, too?”

She hummed at my question and turned my head back forward. “Well, Beta is the most common designation, and none of us know the plan the Gods hold for us. Do not count out Omega until the ceremony.”

I remember being so pissed that she assumed I'd be an Omega and not an Alpha. Omega is arguably the worst designation.

The ceremony decides where we will be housed when we move to the Institute. It's an ancient tradition that connects us directly to our Gods, through which they may impart their Blessing. If we are deemed fit, we will be given a beast to share our bodies, allowing us to shift between forms.

Everyone has been excited about the ceremony for weeks.

It was all anyone talked about in the final days of class, as we waited to see which day our ceremonies would be held.

They’re assigned by first name, so I never bothered to check when I was supposed to take part in the ceremony. I knew I'd be last.

“It’s going to be okay.” My best friend, Warren, has spent the past two days trying to assure me. “It’s easy.”

“I am not worried about the difficulty,” I speak from the side of my mouth so as not to be called out by the high priests who stand cloaked on the stage.

All of them wear black robes with stripes in the colors of their Gods embroidered on the front, but one has all the colors running in lines down its length.

“I believe the pomp and circumstance to be a bit much. If the Gods will it, why must we go through a ceremony? Shouldn’t they just give us our beasts if we are to be marked to receive one? ”

“This is how it’s always been done.” He shrugs and faces forward.

It's a poor excuse for why things stay stagnant. “Besides, I think it’s fun to see everyone undergo their first shift. There are so many options that we can be Blessed with. Though, if I am to receive one, I do hope it is not the Sea Goddess who Blesses me.”

If we are to be an Alpha or an Omega, one of the Gods bestows upon us our beast to represent their kingdom.

Aenella, Goddess of the Sea, Blesses those touched by her with beasts at home in the water—anything from a turtle to a penguin, a sea lion to an orca.

Though Aenella Blesses some, she is choosy, with very few new followers each year.

Most of those with water beasts are Omegas, though some Alphas do take the form of the more aggressive creatures.

Kashmyre, God of the Earth, Blesses the most each year. His followers receive beasts that live on the land, and all have their place in our society. The more meek of the beasts tend to be assigned to Omegas, while the Alphas will receive lions, bears, wolves, and other predators.

And there is Oren, God of the Wind. They are a quiet God, not showy in their Blessed beasts, their worshippers devout and reserved. Those Blessed by Oren are more likely to be Alphas and take the form of beasts that can soar through the sky.

Ilota, Goddess of Fire, is the fourth God, but I've never met someone who worships her. It has been so long since she Blessed someone that the records of her beasts have been lost. No one even knows if her divine power still exists. She has done nothing to show that she watches over us.

“I wish to be a Beta,” I tell Warren. “There seems to be no true benefit of being an Alpha or an Omega. Why would I want a more difficult path than I have to take?”

He stands as his name is called, and turns to look at me. “Regardless of our desires, the Gods will make their decisions. Try to keep an open mind.”

Warren moves to the stage, bowing his head at the headmaster of the Institute, a stern-looking man with a heavy brow and lined face. Once we are separated into the three designations, we all attend the Institution to learn our place in society and the role we must play.

Alphas are our protectors, our leaders. They are trained in things like combat and diplomacy, and have the God complex to go with it. They are more feral, more in tune with their baser instincts, because of their beasts, than Betas are.

Betas are our support. Without them, our world would not run. The vast majority of our population is Betas, and luckily so. Alphas enter ruts, and Omegas go through heats that make them unpredictable and take them out of commission for a week every three months.

And then there are Omegas. Omegas are the heart and home of our society.

Coddled and protected, they are the rarest designation and are not allowed out without an escort.

No one bothers to train them in combat or medicine.

It is assumed that an Omega's only desire is to give birth to and raise children.

Pretty little ornaments that sit on pretty little hearths and wait for their Alphas to return home every day.

Warren drops his robe, revealing his naked body to the room.

It’s standard practice, but it still makes my face heat.

I’m not used to seeing him naked, not since we entered puberty.

We’ve been friends all of our lives, and our mothers used to bathe us together, but that stopped when my breasts began to develop.

He certainly has grown up.

Four stones, representing the four Gods, are resting on soft pillows on pedestals at the front of the stage. One by one, each graduate must place their hand on the stones and wait to see whether a God has chosen to grant them a designation.

Warren moves slowly down the stones, resting his hand on each for a moment. There's a large emerald for Kashmyre, a clear quartz for Oren, and a beautiful pearl for Aenella. Though it is nothing more than a formality at this point, he also places his hand on the piece of garnet for Ilota.

Once all the stones are touched and no shift overcomes his body, he is handed his robe by a hooded priest, declared a Beta, and sent to sit on the side of the room with the most students.

And then, I am alone.

It is just me on the bench, waiting for my future to be decided.

When my name is called, I feel as if I am walking to the gallows, but I keep my head high.

The likelihood that I will be Blessed is slim, and if I am, for some reason, I will be designated as an Alpha.

Only one in seven of the Blessed is an Omega.

The odds are in my favor.

Though some may crave the life of luxury that Omegas are afforded, it sounds miserable to me. I want nothing more than to fade into obscurity.

I strip off my robe, hand it to someone on stage, then step forward and gently place my hand on each stone. I count to five in my head, as we are taught to do, before moving to the next. By the time I lift my hand from the pearl, the tension in my chest has lifted.

Beta.

Thank the Gods.

When my palm hits the garnet, the oddest sensation flows through me. It’s like I drank fine wine that warms my soul as it runs through my body.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Nothing happens. The warmth that I felt must’ve been a fluke of the stone.

“Accept your robe.”

I don’t know where the voice comes from, but I cannot do anything but listen, reaching out and taking the robe offered to me.

My hands are shaking as I wrap my body up. What was that voice? Was that my subconscious, reminding me that I am naked in a room full of people?

The head of the Institute proclaims me as a Beta, and I sigh in relief. It's what I wanted.

I step off the stage, searching for an empty seat, when a voice in my head makes me stumble.

“Good, Omega. Tell no one.”