Chapter 11 – Billie #2
Nothing. Not even a letter opener. The most dangerous thing in the entire store is a nail file, and even that has rounded edges.
These fuckers really thought of everything, didn't they?
I pay with my collar—which is exactly as humiliating as it sounds, holding my neck up to some kind of scanner like I'm a fucking barcode—and make my way back to the dorm.
The sun is starting to set, creating a cotton candy sky that would be beautiful if I wasn't so pissed off.
Something tells me my roomie would love it.
The dorm is more crowded now, omegas returning from wherever they spend their days being decorative. They part before me like a disapproving sea.
I push open the door to my room, already dreading—
She's here.
My roommate stands in the center of the room like she owns it, which, given the amount of pink everywhere, she probably thinks she does.
She's everything I expected and then some.
Blonde curls that cascade down her waist in perfect spirals.
Blue eyes so bright they look fake. Skin like porcelain, lips like rose petals, the whole fucking princess package wrapped up in a dress with a literal bow hanging from the collar. And the dress is—you guessed it—pink.
She turns to look at me, and her perfect features twist into an expression of disgust so profound it's almost impressive.
"So it's true," she says, her voice high and sweet with an edge sharp enough to cut glass. "They actually put me with a hunter."
Points for directness, I guess. At least she's not pretending to be nice while plotting my social destruction.
"Guilty as charged," I say, dropping my shopping bags on my bed. "Though technically, I'm an ex-hunter. Current omega. It's a whole thing."
"This is unacceptable." She stamps one delicate foot, and I swear to all the gods the floor actually seems to vibrate. "Do you have any idea what this will do to my reputation? To my chances of making a good match?"
"Not really my problem, princess."
Her eyes narrow. "My name is Olivia. And it absolutely is your problem, because I refuse to have my prospects ruined by being associated with some... some savage who probably doesn't even know which fork to use at dinner!"
I know exactly which fork to use, thanks to Madame Loriyne. I also know seventeen different ways to kill someone with said fork, but I don't think that's the kind of knowledge she's looking for.
"Look, Olivia," I say, trying to channel some of that demure omega energy Anastasia told me to fake. It comes out more like irritation. "I'm not exactly thrilled about having a roommate either. So if you want to put in for a transfer, be my guest. I'd be happy to have the room to myself."
She draws herself up to her full height, which is still a good three inches shorter than me. "Oh, I absolutely will. First thing tomorrow morning. The housing committee will hear about this travesty."
"Fantastic. Looking forward to it."
She gives me one last withering look before stalking toward the door, pausing dramatically at the threshold. "Just try not to touch any of my things. I don't want your hunter germs all over my belongings."
Hunter germs. Are we fucking five?
The door slams behind her with a bang that probably woke up half the floor. Good. Let them all know that Billie the Hunter is here, and she's already pissing off the locals.
I turn back to survey the room properly.
Olivia's side is even more elaborate up close.
The vanity alone is a work of art, and it seems to be made out of some sort of carved bone with vaguely pink-tinted glass.
Perfume bottles that look like they belong in a museum are arranged in neat order.
Jewelry boxes, makeup cases, hair accessories, the whole shebang.
I had no idea so many products even existed, let alone that one person could need them all at the same time.
The mirror catches my attention again. It's good quality, heavy silver backing. If I could find a way to break it without immediately getting caught...
But no. Too obvious. Too messy. And despite her attitude, I don't actually want to destroy Princess Pink's stuff. Yet.
I sink onto my bed, which is admittedly more comfortable than anything I've ever slept on, and try to process the last few hours.
I'm here. Actually here, at Valemyre University, surrounded by Fae and their pet omegas.
Somewhere on this campus, Prince Corvinus is walking around, breathing air he doesn't deserve, probably not even thinking about the hunter he killed eight years ago.
My mother.
The rage that's been simmering under my skin since the Unmasking flares hot and bright.
I have to clench my fists to keep from punching something, preferably something with the Prince's face on it.
I'm honestly shocked Olivia doesn't have his picture hanging on her wall.
She seems like the type who'd be hunting him every bit as passionately as I am, albeit for different reasons.
But I need to be smart. Patient. I need to learn the layout of this place, figure out the Prince's schedule, find a weapon that won't immediately give me away. I need to play the part of the grateful omega while planning a murder.