Chapter 9 – Billie #2
Madame Loriyne's lips twitch, like she wants to smile but can't quite remember how. "You have come far in your time here, Miss Moreau. I trust you will remember your lessons and conduct yourself in a manner befitting an omega of Valemyre."
Translation: Don't embarrass me or I'll make your life even more miserable than it already is.
"Of course, Madame. Thank you for everything." The words taste like battery acid, but I force them out with what I hope passes for sincerity.
She nods, apparently satisfied with my performance. One of the guards opens the carriage door, and I climb inside, grateful to escape her scrutiny.
The interior is exactly what I expected. Plush velvet seats, windows enchanted to show perfect weather regardless of reality, and that ever-present smell of magic and money. I settle against the cushions as the door closes, and within moments, we're moving.
The journey through the city is both familiar and different from my first trip.
The same impossible architecture, the same casual displays of power and wealth.
But now I notice things I missed before.
The way humans scurry out of the way of Fae nobles.
The subtle hierarchies displayed in clothing and jewelry.
The omegas trailing behind their mates like prized possessions, their collars glittering in the afternoon sun.
That'll be me soon. The thought makes my stomach turn, but I push it down. It's just another mission. Another role to play. Get in, get close to the prince, complete the objective. Simple.
Except nothing about this is simple, and I know it.
The city gives way to countryside, but instead of heading toward the mountains like I expected, we turn toward what looks like a solid cliff face. I lean forward, frowning, as we approach what appears to be a dead end.
Then I see it. A waterfall cascading down the cliff, the water sparkling with an inner light that has nothing to do with the sun. The carriage doesn't slow.
"Wait," I start to say, but we're already plunging through.
The world explodes into sensation. Water that isn't wet, cold that isn't cold, pressure that isn't pressure. My ears pop, my vision blurs, and for a moment, I'm convinced we're about to crash into solid stone.
Then we're through.
"Holy fuck," I breathe, forgetting my demure act entirely.
The guards chuckle, apparently used to this reaction. I barely notice, too busy staring at what lies before us.
If I thought the Royal City was impressive, if I thought the Assimilation Academy was opulent, I was a fucking idiot. Valemyre University makes everything I've seen so far look like a child's crayon drawing compared to a masterpiece.
The buildings don't just reach toward the sky, they own it.
Spires of crystal and stone twist upward in impossible spirals, connected by bridges that look like they're made of frozen starlight.
Gardens float at different levels, defying gravity with casual arrogance.
Water flows upward in some places just like in the city, forming fountains in mid-air that spray diamonds of liquid light.
And the magic. Gods, the magic. It's so thick here I can taste it, feel it pressing against my skin like a a lover's touch. The collar around my neck hums in response, warm but not unpleasant.
Students move between buildings, some walking on paths that wind through the air itself.
Most are Fae, their otherworldly beauty almost painful to look at en masse.
But I spot humans too, following their betters like well-trained dogs.
All of them wear collars, but these aren't the simple metal bands like mine.
These are works of art—gold and silver and precious gems, some glowing with magic, others shifting between different metals as the sunlight touches them.
Status symbols, I realize. The Fae showing off their pets like fucking trophies.
The human omegas are dressed in ways that make my traveling clothes look positively modest. Flowing gowns that leave little to the imagination, intricate costumes that must take hours to put on, jewelry that probably costs more than entire human settlements.
They move with practiced grace, every gesture calculated to draw attention while appearing effortless.
I was wrong about the Academy. This is going to be hell. My own personal, customized version of hell, wrapped in silk and delivered with a smile.
The carriage rolls to a stop before gates that make the Academy's entrance look like a garden fence.
They're made of something that might be metal or might be crystallized moonlight, shifting between states as I watch.
Symbols are carved into every surface, pulsing with power that feels wrong even at a distance.
"This is as far as we go," one of the guards says, opening the door. "Only students and faculty may pass beyond this point."
I climb out and reluctantly take the guard's offered hand, my legs surprisingly steady despite the chaos in my head. The guards unload my trunks, setting them beside the gate with efficient movements.
"What about the collar?" I ask, gesturing to my neck. "Don't you need to update the restrictions or whatever?"
They exchange amused looks that make me want to punch them both.
"That won't be necessary," the taller one says, smirking. "The university has its own safeguards. Only Fae can leave the grounds without an escort."
I don't know what that means, but something in his tone suggests I'll find out soon enough. And that I won't like it.
"Enjoy your education, Miss Moreau," the other guard adds, and there's something mocking in the way he says it.
Then they're back in the carriage, leaving me standing alone before the massive gates with nothing but my trunks and a growing sense of dread.
The gates open without anyone touching them, because of course they do. Everything here is designed to remind you that you're in their world now, playing by their rules.
I grab the handles of my trunks, grateful for the enchantments that make them lighter than they should be, and step through.
The moment I cross the threshold, I feel it. Eyes on me from every direction. Whispers starting before I've taken five steps down the path.
"Is that her?"
"The wild omega who dropped out of the sky?"
"I heard she was raised by the Seveline cult."
"Look at that collar. So plain."
"She's pretty enough, I suppose."
"Prince Corvinus will be amused."
That last one makes my steps falter for just a moment before I catch myself. Of course they know. Of course everyone already knows about the hunter-turned-omega. I'm probably the most interesting thing to happen here in this perfectly curated paradise in decades.
A group of omegas clustered near a fountain stop their conversation to stare as I pass.
They're all dressed in coordinating shades of pink and gold, their collars matching, like some kind of fucked up sorority.
The one in the center, a blonde with eyes like chips of ice, looks me up and down with an expression that could freeze hell.
"Ladies," I murmur, inclining my head slightly as I pass.
They don't respond, but I feel their eyes burning into my back as I continue down the path. The weight of their judgment, their assessment, their immediate categorization of me as either threat or prey.
Anastasia's warning echoes in my head. These bitches can be vicious.
But I've faced down vampires and werewolves and creatures that would make these pampered pets piss themselves in terror. I've been trained since childhood to be a weapon.
I can handle a few mean girls in pretty dresses.
The path winds through gardens that smell like every good dream I've ever had, past fountains that sing in harmonies that make my chest tight with emotions I can't name. Students lounge on benches that float a few feet off the ground, their conversations stopping as I pass.
Everyone's watching. Everyone's whispering. Everyone's already forming opinions about the wild omega who shouldn't be here.
Good. Let them watch. Let them whisper. Let them think they know what I am, why I'm here.
Because I know something they don't. I'm not here to find a mate or secure my position in their twisted hierarchy.
I'm here for Prince Corvinus Luxellier.
And I'm going to kill him.