Chapter 1 #2
Miss Phillip sighs, the sound heavy with administrative exhaustion.
"You must have gotten one of the mishap applications.
There was a batch that went out missing the final page agreement.
IT assured me they'd fixed the issue, but clearly.
.." She pinches the bridge of her nose in a gesture I'm becoming intimately familiar with. "This is the third time this semester."
"What does that mean?" Rafe cuts in, stepping forward with the confidence of someone who's never been ignored in his life.
Miss Phillip gives him a side-eye so sharp it could draw blood.
"It means," she says coolly, "that this doesn't concern you, Mr. Calder. Go hover somewhere else."
She flicks her hand in a shooing motion that would be comical if Rafe's expression of wounded pride wasn't so satisfying to witness.
Oh, I like her.
"As for you, Ms. Rose," she continues, turning back to me, "I can handle a housing switch. But it may take a week or two to establish alternative arrangements, if you can manage to wait."
Two weeks.
Two weeks of living with three Alphas whose scents make my hindbrain do backflips.
Two weeks of thin walls, one bathroom, and a kitchen that apparently requires combat skills to access.
Stuck seeing Rafe Calder's stupid, perfect face every morning and remembering how he made me cry until my eyes were swollen shut.
I open my mouth to say yes, absolutely, two weeks is fine, get me out of here as fast as humanly possible.
But then I catch Rafe's expression from the corner of my eye.
That cocky smirk.
That knowing look that says 'she'll break' and 'she can't handle it' and 'same old Nerdy MaeBell, always running away.'
No.
Absolutely not.
I didn't survive thirteen years of rebuilding myself from the ashes of sixth grade just to let him think he still has power over me.
"It's fine," I say, and my voice comes out steadier than I expected. I pause, letting the silence stretch just long enough to see Rafe's smirk widen into a full grin.
Then I continue.
"Two weeks is manageable. I'd love to see if maybe I can get a different set of roommates. Being in a dorm with all guys may be a bit uncomfortable."
The grin slides off his face like ice cream off a hot sidewalk.
Ha.
Cal makes a sound that might be a poorly disguised laugh.
étienne's lips twitch.
Miss Phillip nods, completely unbothered by the drama unfolding around her.
"Not a worry at all, Ms. Rose. I'll personally handle the arrangements."
"Thank you." I smile sweetly, not looking at Rafe. Not giving him the satisfaction. "I appreciate it."
"Now then." Miss Phillip claps her hands together once, the sound crisp and final. "Let me officially welcome you to Valenridge University. I'll take you through a tour of the campus and get you associated with everything you'll need to know."
She pulls out a sleek tablet, scrolling through what looks like an itinerary.
"We'll start with the Omega Lounge on the third floor of the main building. It's a designated safe space for Omegas to relax, study, or socialize without Alpha interference. Very popular during heat season."
Heat season.
Right. That's a thing I'll have to deal with eventually.
My heats have always been irregular thanks to my late presentation, but they're getting more predictable now. More intense.
More inconvenient now that I’m going to be living with three Alphas whose scents make you want to climb them like trees.
"Then we'll visit the nurses' station for your initial health check.
Standard procedure for all new students.
After that, I'll show you the Omega-exclusive shops on the east wing.
Most Omegas enjoy having them handy for major essentials, especially during.
.." She clears her throat delicately. ". ..sensitive times."
I nod, filing away the information.
Omega Lounge. Nurse. Shops. Got it.
But there's one thing I need to know more than any of that.
"What's the process for those who want to use the rink?"
The question comes out before I can stop it, tumbling from my lips with an eagerness I hadn't meant to reveal. My cheeks flush, but I don't take it back.
Miss Phillip beams, her entire demeanor shifting from polished administrator to genuine enthusiast.
"Ah, the rink! I can explain all of that for you.
" She tucks her tablet under her arm, gesturing animatedly.
"I know hockey training is about to start, so we're currently waiting for the finalized schedule.
But there are designated off-times that allow anyone to use the rink, including skating lessons for beginners. "
She pauses, and her smile widens.
"There's also a figure skating club for Omegas.
Very active. They practice three times a week and compete regionally.
And," her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, "there's a professional team in the works.
The board approved funding last month. We're hoping to have a competitive squad by next season. "
A professional team.
In the works…
My heart stutters in my chest, and for a moment I forget about slushie-throwing mean girls and naked hockey players and the ticking time bomb of my twenty-fifth birthday.
Figure skating. Real figure skating. Not just YouTube videos watched at 2 AM while pretending I don't miss the ice so much it hurts.
"Do you skate, Ms. Rose?" Miss Phillip asks, studying my face with keen interest.
I shrug, forcing casualness into my voice even as my pulse races.
"I do it as a hobby from time to time. My dad was a coach here and there."
Here and there.
Like it wasn't the center of my universe for fifteen years. As though I didn't spend every free moment on the ice until my ankles ached and my fingers went numb.
Or how giving it up felt like cutting off a limb.
Miss Phillip practically squeals, which is not a sound I expected from such a composed woman.
"Oh, you absolutely must try out if you're interested! We're always looking for talented skaters. The club would be thrilled to have fresh blood."
Fresh blood. Interesting choice of words.
But the excitement bubbling in my chest is hard to suppress.
This is why I came here. Not for the Alphas or the pack integration or the elaborate escape plan from my parents' machinations.
For the ice.
For the chance to remember who I was before the world told me I wasn't enough.
Hell, it would be nice to finally have hobbies again.
To find the joy I used to take for granted, thinking that spark would be there forever.
"I'll think about it," I say, which is Mabeline-speak for 'I'm already mentally planning my tryout outfit.'
"Wonderful!" Miss Phillip claps her hands again. "Now, we really must start the tour. But first..." Her gaze drops to my clothes, taking in the full disaster of my current state. The blue stains. The still-damp fabric. The general air of 'I've been through a war and lost.'
"What happened there?"
I sigh, the sound carrying the weight of every humiliation I've endured today.
"Oh, nothing. Just jealous hormonal Omegas trying to protect territory no one needs." I pause, then add, "I don't suppose it would be possible for me to change first? I'd rather not tour the campus looking like a blueberry had a vendetta against me."
Miss Phillip's lips press together, but her eyes sparkle with suppressed amusement.
"Most certainly. Do you have a change of clothes?"
"Thankfully, yes." I pat my purse, which is miraculously slushie-free thanks to étienne's quick thinking with the jersey. "I tucked a spare set in here because it didn't fit in my luggage."
The universe giveth and the universe taketh away.
Today, apparently, it decided to give me one small mercy.
"Excellent. Let's go inside the dorm, and you can change." Miss Phillip turns toward the golden door, pulling out a key that looks more like an antique artifact than a modern access device. It's brass, ornate, with intricate engravings that catch the light.
She inserts it into a lock I hadn't noticed before, and the door swings open to reveal a warmly lit entryway. Polished hardwood floors. Rich burgundy walls. The scent of cedar and something floral that's clearly meant to be calming.
Fancy. Very fancy. Not at all what I expected from 'pack integration housing.'
I take a step toward the threshold, relief washing over me at the thought of finally escaping the hallway and the three pairs of Alpha eyes that have been boring into my back.
But before I can cross into the sanctuary of the dorm, three sets of heavy footsteps move to follow me.
Miss Phillip holds up a hand without even turning around.
"No Alphas during the tour."
Rafe's voice is incredulous.
"But this is OUR place."
"Your place," Miss Phillip agrees, still not looking at him. "Which you can return to after the tour is complete. You know the rules, Mr. Calder. Rooms are off-limits when tours are happening. I'm not breaking them for you or anyone else."
"That's bullshit," Rafe protests, and I can practically hear the pout in his voice. "We live here. She's going to be living here. What's the point of—"
"Scram."
Miss Phillip closes the door in his face.
I stand there, gawking in shock, as the solid thud of wood meeting frame echoes through the entryway. From the other side, I can hear muffled protests, Cal's soothing murmur, étienne saying something in rapid French that sounds vaguely like 'I told you so.'
Miss Phillip turns to face me, completely unbothered.
"Men," she says, with the weary affection of someone who has dealt with far too many of them. "You just have to be rough with them and diminish their existence, and they usually cooperate."
A startled laugh escapes me before I can stop it.
She grins, the expression transforming her from intimidating administrator to potential ally.
"The bathroom is down the hall, second door on the left. Take your time. The tour will still be here when you're done."