Chapter 12 – Billie #2
"Now then," Professor Wyngrave continues, moving to the podium with that inhuman Fae grace, "let's begin with a review of last week's material. Miss Haliver, perhaps you could remind us of the three stages of omega maturation?"
A blonde near the front practically bounces in her seat at being called on.
"Of course, Professor! The three stages are Awakening, Acknowledgment, and Bonding.
Awakening occurs when our omega nature first manifests, usually accompanied by our first heat.
Acknowledgment is when we accept our place in the natural order and embrace our destiny.
And Bonding is when we find our perfect match or matches among the Fae! "
She delivers this like she's reciting a fucking fairy tale, complete with clasped hands and dreamy sighs. I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood.
"Very good, Miss Haliver. And who can tell me about the biological changes that occur during Awakening? Miss Larue?"
The girl in emerald, the queen bee, lifts her head slightly.
When she speaks, her voice is like frozen silk.
"During Awakening, an omega's body undergoes several physiological changes.
Pheromone production increases dramatically, particularly during heat cycles.
The reproductive system becomes fully active, preparing for potential offspring.
Sensory perception heightens, especially in regards to potential mates.
And the nesting instinct manifests, driving the omega to create safe spaces for herself and future young. "
She rattles this off like she's reading a grocery list, completely dispassionate despite discussing things that make my stomach churn.
"Excellent as always, Miss Larue." Professor Wyngrave's approval is subtle but clear. "Now, let's discuss the variations in Awakening timing..."
The lecture continues, each word making me want to crawl out of my skin. The other omegas take notes with pretty little pens in pretty little notebooks, nodding along like this is all perfectly normal. Like discussing the biological imperative to become some Fae's incubator is just another Monday.
They talk about heat cycles like they're planning a fucking vacation. Compare notes on what they've heard from claimed omegas about the experiences. Giggle over the prospect of nesting, sharing ideas for the perfect omega sanctuary.
My pen digs into my notebook so hard it tears through three pages.
I need to know when to expect this shit. The heat they forced on me in the woods was artificial and short lived, but according to everything being discussed, the real thing is inevitable. I can't afford to be caught off guard, not when I have a prince to kill.
"Professor?" My voice cracks slightly, and I clear my throat. "I have a question."
The room goes silent. Twenty pairs of eyes turn to stare at me like I've just announced I'm planning to streak through the courtyard.
"Of course, Miss Moreau. What would you like to know?"
"Awakening… does it happen immediately? As soon as someone is identified as an omega?"
The laughter starts as a titter and builds to outright giggles. Even some of the more reserved omegas hide smiles behind their hands. My cheeks burn, but I keep my eyes on Professor Wyngrave.
"Ladies." Her voice cuts through the laughter. "Need I remind you that we all come from different backgrounds? Miss Moreau's education has been unconventional. There is no shame in seeking knowledge."
The laughter dies, but I feel their judgment boring into me. Olivia, sitting three rows ahead, turns just enough for me to see her roll her eyes.
"To answer your question, Miss Moreau, no.
Omega traits can be identified through blood markers quite early, mostly during routine medical examinations and blood tests.
However, the physical Awakening typically occurs around age nineteen or twenty, which is why most omegas begin their university education at this time.
Some may Awaken earlier, some later. It varies by individual. "
So the heat in the woods was entirely artificial. Hopefully I have some time before my body decides to fuck me over.
"And what happens," I press, ignoring the whispers starting up again, "when an omega on campus goes into heat?"
Someone actually gasps. Like I've just asked about the mechanics of ritual sacrifice.
Professor Wyngrave's expression doesn't change, but I catch a hint of approval in her eyes.
"An excellent question. The university is well-equipped to handle such situations.
Any unclaimed omega experiencing heat is immediately provided with suppressants and moved to a secure, comfortable environment until the cycle passes.
This ensures both their safety and comfort, as an unmated omega in heat can be vulnerable. "
Vulnerable. That's a nice way of saying "broadcasting a supernatural mating call to every alpha in a five-mile radius."
"The suppressants are quite effective," she continues. "Most omegas use them regularly until they're claimed by a mate or pack, at which point natural cycles resume under the protection of their bonded."
A mate or pack. I feel bile rising in my throat. But at least I know they have suppressants here. One less thing to worry about.
"Thank you, Professor," I say, settling back in my seat.
"You're quite welcome. Never hesitate to ask questions, Miss Moreau. Education is why we're here, after all." She turns back to the class. "Now, let's discuss the hormonal changes that precipitate heat..."
The rest of the class blurs together in a nightmare of biological determinism and romantic delusions.
They discuss optimal nesting materials (silk, apparently, though cashmere is an acceptable substitute).
Debate the merits of different pheromone-enhancing perfumes (as if we need help smelling like prey).
Share tips on "presenting well" during social events where potential mates might be present (I nearly break my pen at this point).
By the time Professor Wyngrave dismisses us, I feel like I've been flayed alive. My notebook is full of anatomical diagrams and hormonal charts that make me want to burn the whole thing. But I've learned what I needed to know.
The suppressants are my safety net. As long as I can access them, I can keep my body from sabotaging my mission. One small victory in this silk-wrapped nightmare.
I gather my things, preparing for another gauntlet of stares and whispers. The other omegas flow around me like I'm a rock in their perfect stream, careful not to get too close to the hunter-turned-omega who doesn't know basic biology.
As I reach the door, a voice stops me.
"Miss Moreau."
I turn to find Professor Wyngrave watching me with those unsettling golden eyes.
"Yes, Professor?"
"A word of advice." She moves closer, voice dropping so only I can hear. "The suppressants are indeed available to all omegas at the clinic on campus. But they're not without cost, and you can only take them for a certain length of time without a break. Use them wisely."
Before I can ask what the fuck that means, she's gliding past me, leaving me standing in the doorway with more questions than answers.
The hallway is chaos, omegas clustering in groups to dissect every moment of class. I catch fragments of conversation as I push through, mostly gossip about my complete lack of omega knowledge. As if hunters dedicated time to learning how omegas work when we exist to kill their masters.
I grit my teeth and keep walking. Let them talk. Let them think I'm just some ignorant backwoods girl playing dress-up in their world.
I have access to suppressants here on campus. That's all that matters.
For now.