11. Opal
Chapter eleven
Opal
M y fingers almost crush the phone as I stare down at the message.
Hey, Opal. It's Belle. If you ever want to meet up for a chat, feel free to message x
I reread the message over and over, and what is this?
Do I have a friend?
I'm not even sure how she got my number.
Even during my four years at the Academy, I never made one single friend.
Honestly, it was better that way. Because one day I will have to destroy the very people I come to know and love.
Not that I know what love is.
It’s still a foreign concept to me.
Still, I best keep Belle away at arm’s length. I can not make any friends.
My objective is to take out the governor—her brother’s Alpha.
The poor thing deserves a hell of a lot better than me.
She’s better off not getting to know me.
That’s when a zap runs down my spine, and then I start replying to her message.
What am I doing?
Yet my thumb won’t stop, and then I click send.
For a few heartbeats, nothing happens.
But when those three dots appear, signaling that she's responding, I start to panic.
My heart rate goes right up, and then a beat of sweat drips down my back.
Finally, her reply comes through, and I respond before I can stop myself, wishing I could curl up and die.
Now, we are having brunch with Ella tomorrow at noon.
Great. Fantastic.
Brunch with numbers 22 and 23.
Nice going, Opal.
They’ll see right through me. I may not have the brand on my wrist like they do, but they’ll see through the facade.
Even I can tell a fellow Rogue from a mile off.
Shit, shit, shit.
I bang my phone on my head, dropping it on the bed. Then I get up and check myself in the mirror.
My face is shining, so I grab a tissue, dabbing at my forehead.
That ought to do the trick.
Now, I breathe in and out, pressing my palm on my chest as I feel the rise and fall of my lungs.
My heart thunders beneath my fingers, and I take a moment to calm that down, too.
It’s okay, Opal. They won’t suspect a thing. You are trained for this. Just put on your trusty sunglasses and talk the talk, walk the walk.
In the end, they’re not Reed. That Acute Alpha could probably smell my deception from a mile off, and I must be careful when he’s around.
Which thankfully isn’t a lot.
The Alpha appears to be avoiding me. He tends to avoid all social interaction by the looks of things.
Perhaps he doesn’t like it when people stare at his scar down the right side of his face. Or at his blind eye.
Nothing to be ashamed of in my books.
I personally think the look suits him.
Doubt he would care what I think though.
Finally, my breathing returns to normal, and my heart rate slows down.
Even my face is shine-free.
Now I practice my smile in front of the mirror, and there she is—the Golden Girl.
The best at the Academy.
The Omega with the perfect grades.
The guys are out so it’s just me and Reed in the house. Hence why I try to stay in my room whenever we’re alone, but I can’t just sit up here and do nothing all day.
I must uphold my Omega duties.
The house will need cleaning.
Donning my best pair of heels, I glance in the mirror, rolling my eyes when I spy the lemon blouse and the denim shorts.
What was the Academy thinking when they picked out this outfit?
Oh, I know.
The denim shorts make my big ass look even bigger.
Enough to get any Alpha's pulse racing.
They want me to breed. Be good and pregnant by this year's end.
Yeah, that won't be happening.
I'll have carried out my mission by then.
Since I'm still technically the property of the government and the Academy, the lemon must stay.
But that doesn’t mean that I have to plaster the color in my nest.
That I made my own.
Yet if the pastels help convince the pack and the world that I'm complacent and submissive, then they may suspect me less.
Hopefully.
So, I unbutton the blouse, tying it beneath my breasts, and that should please the world.
There's nowhere I could possibly hide a knife with this outfit, but that's fine.
I've got this.
Leaving the room at last, I saunter across the hallway and make my way down the stairs, arriving at the kitchen.
Spotless as usual.
Magnus really has outdone himself.
I was warned that Alphas were messy and had a habit of leaving a pile of dirty dishes in the sink for days on end. Weeks even.
I suppose I lucked out with this pack, but it would be nice to have something to do.
Maybe the flowers need watering.
They don’t, of course, but I still busy myself with a watering can, moving around the front yard in my heels as I give the flowers their water.
It has been hot for the last few days. They could do with some water.
That’s when I spy the sprinkler on the green, green grass, and this pack…
They really are every Omega’s dream.
Soon, I become aware of an audience, and I glance out the yard, spying a group of children staring at me.
I must look like a character in a storybook in their eyes.
It makes sense.
Children are drawn to Omegas naturally. We have mothering instincts.
Yet, I can’t deny the draw I have for them too.
I always wondered what it would be like to have a child, and that’s when I picture a child with Zayden’s brown eyes and my red hair.
They would be beautiful.
No. Never happening.
I even heard Magnus talking about building a tree house in the yard, but I will hopefully be long gone before its completion.
I place the watering can on the porch steps, waving at the children. I spy Maddie among them, looking the least bit impressed.
Finally, I walk up the porch steps and enter the house.
But I stop dead in my tracks when I meet those glowing eyes in the darkness.
I school my features and don my best smile, placing a hand on my chest. “Reed! You spooked me.”
A rumble sounds from his chest and now my fingers itch for a weapon.
I haven’t held a gun or a knife in years, but I still remember all the steps.
Slaying Alphas like Reed is my specialty.
I’m sure Ella will agree too when we meet for brunch tomorrow. Not that she would ever find out that I’m a Rogue too.
As far as that Omega is concerned, I am just a docile graduate fresh from the Academy.
Reed stalks closer, backing me toward the door, but I keep my cool, hoping he doesn’t spy my heart thumping through my chest.
It's okay. I may not have a knife, but at least I have my fingernails.
They will do me just fine in this situation.
Now he stands a whole foot taller as I get an eyeful of a solid wall of chest.
There, I spy bulging pecs beneath his thin black shirt, and now my heart pounds for a different reason.
Reed is one of the biggest Alphas I have ever seen.
And I’d be lying if I said that it doesn’t do things to my body.
My Omega just wants to submit to him and expose her neck to his fangs. Hell, she even wants to turn around and present for him.
Reed brackets my head with his large hands, and his palms are as big as my face.
He could fit the whole of his fingers around the circumference of my head, and the thought only entices me further.
I cannot let these decadent thoughts get the best of me. I am better than this.
Yet when Reed leans down and sniffs the soft skin of my neck, nose lingering on my sensitive pulse, my body shudders, and I close my eyes, breaths coming in short gasps.
My nipples pebble, poking through the material of my blouse, and what a day to forgo a bra.
Now I sweat for a different reason, and when the large Alpha tips my chin, tilting my head so I meet his eyes, I stumble.
Damn. He really does hate me.
Yet there’s no missing the giant bulge in his pants when he wrinkles his nose, getting a read on my scent.
The Jacobson’s Organ is a vestigial trait in most humans, and a majority of Alphas have one to a degree.
But Reed wrinkles his nose in the same fashion as a wolf, and it appears his scent really is unmatched.
What does my scent say about me?
Traitor? Villian?
The list is endless.
Finally, Reed moves away, leaving me totally bereft as he stalks backward, keeping his shining white eye on me.
My Omega mourns for the feel of his hot breath on her neck again, the anticipation of his teeth as he grazes it gently over her skin.
My heart gives a drumming beat as I remain pressed to the door, and so much for my perfect facade.
I feel each of my red curls betraying me as they rise in the heat.
Sweat gathers beneath my nose, yet I’m too afraid to reach up and wipe at the traitorous bead for fear of alerting Reed.
The nerves have nothing to do with my subterfuge, though.
No. This fear is all Reed’s doing.
I can still feel his stubble where it grazed my cheek, and my vision clouds as he keeps those probing eyes on me.
He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t have to.
His snarl is enough.
Reed is on to me.
And he is going to find cracks in my mask.
I’m done for.
No matter what, I must distract him, but only one possible answer comes to mind when I think of the many ways I can divert his attention.
I do have a number of lingerie sets.
And not all of them are lemon.
No. They’re in colors that could really get an Alpha’s pulse racing.
I just don’t think Reed is the type of Alpha to cave so easily.
Finally, he merges with the shadows, and I don’t even see him vanish.
Not only large but stealthy too, and I am way in over my head with that one.
I’m not going to last.
Because if he puts his mouth and nose on my neck again, I may just yield.
And that won’t bode well for my mission.