28. Brylee
28
brYLEE
The first time I met the triplets, I was sixteen.
Teddie had left earlier that morning to attend a meeting in my parents’ stead, and I’d followed him. Of course, Teddie knew I was in the car behind him, but I’d like to believe he was oblivious.
A part of me always resented the fact that Teddie was handed all of this power despite not wanting even an ounce of it. It wasn’t as if I thought Teddie would be a bad ruler, but my twin was often impulsive. He would make decisions without any thought to the consequences.
I just wanted my parents to trust me like they did Teddie. It wasn’t as if I wanted the throne for myself. No. That wasn’t for me. But to be able to help? To do what I could for my people? I needed that. More than anything.
So I followed Teddie to the domineering estate of some esteemed noble my parents wanted to impress. When my twin stepped out of the car, I slid further down into my seat, until only the top of my head was visible. I knew that this particular noble was in possession of land rich with oil. It was no secret my parents wanted to own that land for themselves and the country. This meeting had to go off without a hitch.
I created flashcards to help Teddie deal with Byron Wallis.
Would my brother remember to ask Byron about his pet dog? My sources claimed that Byron was obsessed with his mini doodle. Would Teddie know not to mention Byron’s omega, who passed away two years prior?
Fuck, I should’ve been in there with him.
I began to chew on my nail as I waited for my brother to emerge.
Come on, Ted. Come on. You can do this. Our parents are counting on you. The country is counting on you.
I was so transfixed, staring out the window at the mansion, that I failed to realize someone had approached my window until knuckles tapped against it.
I jumped, accidentally biting down on my finger hard enough to draw blood, and whirled toward the stranger.
A handsome man stood there, staring at me curiously. Behind him were two more men, all of them eerily identical in appearance.
Triplets, I realized belatedly.
Sexy triplets.
They wore ripped jeans and flannel shirts and were carrying gardening equipment—shears, hedge clippers, and rakes. They must be gardeners for Byron Wallis and were probably wondering why I was staring at the man’s house like a creeper. Maybe they thought I was casing the joint.
“Can I help you?” The man who spoke had a deep voice. Husky almost. I felt heat surge up my neck and land in my cheeks at the sound of it.
Who would’ve thought that those four words would change my life forever?
And not for the better.
Since then, I’ve avoided love like the plague I know it is. Caring about someone has only ever led to heartbreak and pain. So much pain.
I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself to think of the pack who destroyed me. For so long, I’ve locked those memories away, barricaded them behind a steel door locked tight. Now, they’re all I can focus on, all I can think of, popping to the surface like corn kernels in a microwave.
Pop. Our first kiss.
Pop. The first time they said “I love you.”
Pop. The impassivity in their gazes when they sold me to the Noths.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
“Hey.” Sam arches an eyebrow from where he sits next to me in the amphitheater—one of the only rooms big enough to hold all of Eros’s students plus faculty. I don’t see Colter or any of the members of Alpha Team X, but I know they’re nearby. I can sense the former’s gaze on the side of my head like a physical caress, a hot iron brand that scalds and marks. “You okay…Ted?” He stumbles over the name. “You kind of zoned out there for a moment.”
I blink, forcing myself to claw out of the memories and back to the present. It takes considerable effort when every voice in my head demands I confront the demons of my past.
“Yeah. Sorry. It’s just been…a long night.” Understatement of the century.
“Yeah.” Sam’s leg begins to jiggle as he runs a hand through his floppy brown hair. “I texted my parents and brother about what happened, and they’re freaking out.”
“Huh. Must be nice,” I murmur, unable to disguise the acerbic bitterness that seeps into my voice. Teddie, of course, would care if I was attacked, but my parents? I’d be lucky if they even sent an advisor to check in on me.
It’s funny because my parents hadn’t always been like this. I could’ve sworn that, at one point, they were compassionate and doting.
Then I got kidnapped and rescued.
Nothing was ever the same after that.
You would think that my parents would become even more overbearing than before, but the exact opposite occurred. It was almost like they were ashamed I could allow myself to be seduced the way I was. That I could be weak enough to fall for such blatantly obvious tricks.
I swear the temperature in the room plummets in tandem to my racing thoughts.
Before Sam can comment on my obviously sour mood, Headmaster Graves moves to the center of the room, where a lone spotlight illuminates the bald patch on the top of his head. It’s kind of shaped like a crescent moon.
He clears his throat and brings a microphone up to his lips.
“It’s with a heavy heart that we even have to call this assembly.”
My god. Is he licking the microphone? I swear it’s practically in his mouth. Disgusting.
Graves’s piercing gray eyes travel over the assembled students. “As most of you are aware, a contingent of Noth soldiers were able to infiltrate Eros Academy and attack a student.”
More than one head whips in Sam’s direction, and the beta sinks into his seat with a muffled, “Stop staring.” His cheeks are bright red.
“Fortunately, we were able to dispatch all of the Noths, thanks to the hard work of our faculty members. Please give them a round of applause.”
Silence.
Someone a few rows above me awkwardly coughs.
Graves clears his throat uncomfortably but forges on. “I would also like to take this moment to honor someone who went above and beyond to help a fellow student.” Unerringly, Grave’s gaze finds me in the crowd, despite the fact that all of us students are sitting in darkness. “Your Highness? If you’d join me down here please.”
No. Fuck no.
A cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck, and my hands begin to shake.
“Go,” Sam whispers, his lips barely moving.
Fuck.
Slowly—keenly aware of every eye on me—I stand and make my way down the steep staircase.
Did I remember to put my wig back on? My bodysuit? Oh god. Am I walking like Teddie does? Why am I suddenly forgetting how he walks?
Don’t fuck up, Brylee. Don’t fuck up.
Almost desperately, I scan the crowd until I set eyes on them , standing on the opposite side of the amphitheater, near the exit. Ridge is scowling at nothing in particular, Luka is staring intently at his phone with a furrow between his brows, and Kylian is pouting like someone stole his favorite toy.
But Colter? Even with his mask in place, I know his gaze is fixed on me. The calm reassurance he radiates propels me the last few steps toward Headmaster Graves, and it feels as if I can finally breathe again. But that breath lodges in my throat when the headmaster throws a heavy arm over my shoulder and twists me to face my fellow classmates.
At once, panic sets root, sinking its spindly fingers into my skin and refusing to release me. I pray that my breathing doesn’t pick up speed. That I don’t black out, the way I often do when a panic attack barrages me.
He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.
“We’ll be together forever, Bry,” he promised, nothing but love and adoration emanating from his gaze.
“Fuck fated mates and scent matches,” his brother agreed. “You’re ours. We’re yours. Forever.”
Who would’ve thought that “forever” would last exactly one week?
I try to inconspicuously free myself from the headmaster’s seemingly innocent embrace, taking a step to the side.
Fortunately, Headmaster Graves doesn’t seem to notice my moment of panic.
“Prince Theodore went above and beyond what any student is required to. I am pleased to have him under my tutelage.” Headmaster Graves puffs out his chest as if he somehow trained me himself. The mere thought is almost comical. “As such, the school would like to award His Royal Highness with a privilege only a select few receive—a Medal of Valor.”
Whispers ripple through the crowd, and I swear my cheeks are ten shades of red.
A Medal of Valor is usually only reserved for alphas who have done heroic deeds. Saving orphans from a burning building. Freeing hundreds of hostages from a Noth’s prison camp. Infiltrating enemy territory and ending the life of a top army general.
Me saving one beta isn’t worthy of this award.
Don’t get me wrong. I firmly believe that all lives are equal, whether that life belongs to an alpha, beta, or omega. But I also know that I would never have been awarded the Medal of Valor if I hadn’t been the crown prince. Did Alpha Team X receive medals for all that they’ve done to stop the Noths? No.
This is nothing but a publicity stunt to ensure “Teddie” looks good when he eventually claims the crown.
Even so, I can’t ignore the trickle of pride I feel at being recognized in the first place. I wonder what Headmaster Graves would say if he discovered it isn’t an alpha being awarded but an omega.
No omega has ever received the Medal of Valor. I have to bite my lip to hide a grin as I imagine Ted’s and Caran’s faces when I tell them.
“To celebrate such a monumental occasion, we’ll be traveling to Darling Academy in two weeks’ time for another ball.” Graves’s smile broadens, especially when he finally elicits a positive reaction from the crowd. “But…not only that, we’ll be joined by Atlas Academy for Strategic Minds and Iris Academy for Omegas.”
This time, the applause is almost deafening. Atlas Academy for Strategic Minds is an all-women’s alpha school that teaches them to analyze battles and develop strategies to ensure our victory. There’s also a stellar aviation program there—one that I secretly wanted to join years ago.
Iris Academy for Omegas is an all-men’s school. Like the women at Darling, they’re taught how to care for the household and their alphas, but also how to protect their mates if the need arises.
I honestly have no idea why all the schools are separated. If you ask me, it’s an archaic and sexist tradition. Then again, I think the same thing about alphas, betas, and omegas. Our society thrives on sexism and on this outdated belief that birth determines worth. My omega caste is a supposed limitation that I refuse to acknowledge.
The excitement in the air is almost palpable, and I know why. More omegas present will give alpha groups a better chance at finding their scent match and vice versa. Sometimes, male alphas and female alphas will also discover they’re in the same pack by mingling at events like this. I know Harper lamented the other day about wanting a pack of sexy alpha men and at least one female as her own. Maybe she’ll stumble upon her scent matches at this ball.
But god, I can’t believe that the school is organizing an entire event around my—I mean, Teddie’s heroics.
How am I supposed to be Brylee the omega and Teddie the esteemed alpha on the same day?
Panic beats like a snare drum in my head.
Maybe Brylee can be sick and refuse to leave her room. Then, Teddie can attend instead.
But what if Madam Ellora insists I make an appearance? What if Brock and his packmates are there? What if Harper checks in on me?
I’m not sure if I can do this alone anymore. Though I’m giving a wide-eyed, full-toothed smile to the crowd, I’m not at all happy about this news.
An idea occurs to me then, and I weigh the pros and cons.
If I could have help…
Not help from Sam or Colter, who are restricted to the ballroom only at Darling Academy, but help from an omega.
From someone who I may even consider a friend.
I think it’s time I bring Harper on board.