10. Brylee
10
brYLEE
After a quick breakfast of a granola bar and apple, I head toward the diner once more. I really need to come up with a better place to change clothing. Perhaps there’s a shed between the two schools or even a bush I can hide behind. I make a mental note to walk the perimeter and see what I can find later today or tomorrow.
Sooner or later, the staff at the diner is going to notice something’s amiss. And I’m guessing it’s sooner rather than later if the angry “ORDER SOMETHING NEXT TIME!” from the waitress is any indication.
I check my schedule on my phone.
Combat Strategy with Alpha Jameson.
I actually know Alpha Jameson. He used to work as a consultant for my parents before getting a job at the academy. He’s middle-aged and has been married to his omega for the past five years—a sweet woman who always smells like cherries when she hugs me.
The only problem? Teddie knows Jameson too, and vice versa.
Fortunately, Jameson hasn’t been around in years, so even if he does run into “Teddie,” I doubt he’ll notice any differences in appearance.
Hopefully.
This particular class takes place in an amphitheater, with rows upon rows of seats all facing down to a small stage and podium. Most of the first-years are already here, and I make eye contact with Sam. He gives me a tiny wave and gestures toward the seat beside him.
Relieved that I don’t have to wander around like a dork, I hurry toward him—and then remember that men don’t hurry but swagger. At least, I think that’s what they do. God knows that the only men I’ve been in contact with the last year or so are Caran, Teddie, and Mr. Sneaks.
I work to control my strut—fuck, men don’t strut, do they?—and throw myself into the seat beside the beta. I end up putting way too much weight on my right side and nearly fall out of the seat. Dammit.
Sam stares at me as if I grew three heads, a pair of tits—if only he knew—and started doing the cha-cha in the middle of the room.
“You okay there?”
“Perfect.” I offer him a slanted grin, one that Teddie used to throw around often when he was on the dating market.
Wait…
Is that his flirty smile? Am I flirting with Sam?
Fuck. Why is this so hard?
I compress my lips in a straight line and try to adopt an expression of bored impassivity. I probably just look like I’m shitting and trying to hold in my grunt.
“Umm…” Sam bounces his fingers across his desk. It’s one of those tables that is built into the chair itself. All you have to do is open the armrest and pull it out. As Sam gets his thoughts in order, I do just that. “This probably makes me a nosey asshole, but where were you last night?”
I whip my head toward him, eyes as wide as saucers. “Huh?”
“You didn’t come to the room.” He shrugs.
“How do you know that?” I’ve been banking on the layout of the dorm being similar to that of Darling Academy—two tiny rooms connected by a bathroom with doors that can lock.
Sam continues to give me a strange look. “Because I’m your roommate.” He speaks the words slowly, as if maybe I’m hard of hearing or just plain stupid. Probably the latter. “You didn’t even unpack anything.” He shakes his head, his brown hair flopping. “Do you get, like, special treatment because you’re the prince or something? Your own room? Because if you do, let me know, and I’ll move some of my stuff over to your side of the room.”
Oh…fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Sam and I are literally roommates. As in, we share the same room.
How could Caran have allowed this to happen?
“Oh.” I force myself to chuckle. “Yeah. I was visiting my sister over at Darling Academy and got preoccupied with a hot piece of ass.” Inwardly, I wince and instantly hate myself. Barf. Teddie’s a lot of things—and a player was one of them before he met Caran—but he would never demean an omega like I just did.
But Sam doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes go wide, and his mouth opens. “You’re seeing an omega?”
“Harper.” I blurt out the first name I can think of that isn’t my own. The last thing I want is for rumors to spread that Teddie is sleeping with his twin sister. God, that’s a “yuck” on so many levels. I actually feel a little vomit in my throat at the thought.
Sorry, Harper.
“Damn.” Sam whistles and settles back in his chair. “Wish I was the prince. The rest of us aren’t even allowed to look at Darling Academy yet.” A note of bitterness seeps into his tone, and I wonder if it’s because he’s a beta who won’t ever have a scent match. He can still mate with an omega, of course, but only if he can find an alpha team that will take him in.
If I thought being an omega sucked, it’s nothing compared to being a beta.
“Yeah, well, I suppose there are some benefits.” I offer another chuckle, praying he lets the subject drop before I can weave myself an even bigger web to get stuck in.
Fortunately, whatever Sam wants to say is interrupted by Alpha Jameson stepping up to the podium. He looks exactly as I remember him, though his hair has a little bit more gray and there are a few more wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.
I shrink farther down in my seat as his eyes survey the class, stopping on me momentarily before continuing on.
“Good morning. I’m not going to waste your time with pleasantries or small talk. We have a lot to cover in the next hour and a half.” The class goes silent immediately. At Darling Academy, the girls usually giggle and gossip and engage in whispers even when lessons have begun. That doesn’t appear to be the case here. All conversations are snuffed out like a candle flame, until the great room is utterly silent and still.
Jameson clasps his hands behind his back and begins to pace. “I could go into the history of our war with Nóthos, but what would be the point? This is common knowledge. Most of you weren’t even born yet when the war first began.”
Everyone has heard the story of how the war started between our country and theirs. Years and years ago, Hypso and Nóthos were allies and often traded supplies. We were developed in a lot of ways, but nothing compared to them. They were years ahead of us in technological and medical advancement. Then, a dozen of their trading ships blew up near our coast, costing them millions of dollars and killing hundreds of their citizens. They blamed Hypso, despite the fact my parents claim we had nothing to do with it and it must’ve been an isolated attack. Nóthos’s president didn’t believe us and refused to allow our own traders to return home. Thus, the war began, and it doesn’t appear to be close to stopping.
My kidnapping is proof of that.
As if on cue, my ankle begins to throb, and I inwardly curse and attempt to rotate it. That’s one of the only things that helps alleviate the pain.
God, sometimes I wonder how different everything would be if we weren’t at war with Nóthos, a country that is, admittedly, more powerful than our own. Hypso has the numbers—our population is twice theirs, and our land is three times the size—but they have weapons we’ve never even heard of. And medicine.
Like the medicine that can cure Teddie.
A lump forms in my throat, one edged with razor blades, and swallowing proves to be impossible.
“This class will focus on creating strategies that will help us win not only a battle, but the war.” Jameson levels us with a piercing glare before his gaze flicks upward, toward something over my shoulder. A second later, I hear the sound of the heavy lecture doors slamming shut.
Did someone arrive late?
I desperately want to swivel my head to see who’s here, but I don’t.
Because I already know.
Their scents permeate the air, engulfing me in a heated embrace. And scents, as in multiple. More than one. Definitely more than one.
My heart pounds so fast I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone could hear it.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“What are you four doing here?” Jameson asks, a hint of suspicion in his tone. “Thought you finished this class…hm…five years ago? Six? Seven? Do you just love hearing me talk that much?”
Someone chuckles, and the low, seductive sound tornadoes through me. “Thought we would drop in. Check out the new recruits.”
“We have bets going on which ones will piss their pants first when it’s our turn with them,” another voice interjects, punctuating the words with a laugh.
Sam swallows from beside me.
Their scents become stronger the closer they get.
Why the fuck are they coming closer?
Why? Why? Why?
Someone claps a heavy hand down on my shoulder and squeezes—squeezes so tight I swear the bones in my shoulder rub together. Pain flares, and I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood to keep from crying out.
Slowly, I turn my head, coming face-to-face with the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life. He looks like a literal angel, and he has a face I’ve only ever seen on omegas—delicate features, almost, with sooty lashes, firm lips, and chiseled cheekbones. Blond hair, the color more golden than my own, brushes his forehead.
I can feel my breath catch and heat climb up my cheeks. His scent is overwhelming. Consuming. I feel tingly all over…
And then he presses his fingers even deeper into my shoulder, and the pain eclipses the lust.
His blue eyes are hard in his face.
And…
Is that hatred ?
Why is he staring at me like that?
Eyes dropping, I see the pin on his chest. The golden circle with a symbol stamped upon it to show his military designation—which unit he belongs to. My chest shreds into ribbons when I realize that his pin is stamped with a black X right through the center.
Alpha Team X.
Oh, shit.
My mom wouldn’t have told them what I said, right? She’s not that cruel or dumb. She wouldn’t?—
“We also thought it would be a good idea to stalk some of our more troublesome students,” he says with a cold grin. All the warmth leaves me at once.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Jameson rolls his eyes but continues the lesson. But the alphas… They don’t leave. Oh no. That would be too easy. Instead, they all sit in the row directly behind me. I can’t see them all, not with my eyes ensnared by the angel and the other three bathed in shadows, but I know they’re watching me.
Glaring at me.
The blond angel leans in even closer, and my breath hitches, another warm wave washing over me despite everything.
“Remember that bet?” His silky voice shouldn’t cause my hands to turn clammy or my pussy to clench with need. Fucking dammit. It’s the whole “mating” thing. My body is predisposed to be hornier than usual around them. Even though I don’t want them whatsoever, I’m wet as hell. I really, really hate being an omega.
I hate that my body is betraying me.
I hate that my heart can’t seem to get with the program my brain laid out, warning me to stay the hell away.
I hate that I have no control of myself or my instinctive reaction to their presence.
Then his words register.
I don’t dare speak, not trusting my voice, but he continues as if I had.
“I put all my money on you, little princeling.” He squeezes my shoulder once more—hard enough to break a damn bone—and then releases me, settling back in his seat. “I’m looking forward to the next class.” A wicked grin curls up his lips.
What the fuck did I do?
One thing becomes abundantly clear—I never should’ve gone to my mom. Instead of solving my problem, she created an even bigger one. And now Alpha Team X knows I tried to get them fired.
Sorry, Ted. I’m pretty sure I’m going to die today. Adios.
You’ll be fine, my inner voice reassures me. What’s the worst they can do?
Famous last words.