Chapter 14 – Billie #2
And it's not just omegas who are present. For the first time since arriving, I'm in a room with alphas. Fae mostly, but I spot a few shifters and what might be a djinn in the corner. The air is thick with pheromones, all of them seeming to give the same pulsing, unspoken command. Submit.
No thanks.
I find a seat as far from Caelyx as possible, which turns out to be pointless because he just drops into the one next to mine. The temperature in the room drops about ten degrees as every omega in the vicinity realizes what's happening.
"You're going to make me very unpopular," I mutter.
"You were already unpopular," he points out. "I'm merely adding fuel to the fire."
Okay, now I know he's fucking with me. A part of me grudgingly respects that he's not even bothering to hide it.
"How generous of you."
Professor Riverden enters before I can say anything else. She's Fae, obviously. White hair, gray eyes.
"Welcome to Bonding Theory and Practice," she says, her voice carrying easily through the room. "Today, we'll be discussing the various types of bonds that can form between individuals of compatible biology."
She launches into a lecture about mate bonds, pack bonds, and various other ways people can tie their souls together like supernatural friendship bracelets. I take notes mechanically, trying to ignore the weight of Caelyx's attention, which definitely isn't focused on the professor.
"The strongest bonds," Professor Riverden continues, "are those formed between true mates. These are rare, perhaps one in ten thousand, but when they occur, they create a connection that transcends physical death itself."
Someone raises their hand—a pretty blonde omega who looks like she stepped out of a fairy tale. "Professor, how do you know if someone is your true mate?"
"An excellent question, Miss Meadows." Makes sense her name is Meadows.
She looks like a fucking flower in human form.
"True mates often experience an immediate recognition, though this can manifest differently for different individuals.
Some describe it as a pulling sensation, as if their very souls are trying to merge.
Others speak of a sense of completion, of finding a piece of themselves they didn't know was missing. "
"And the physical symptoms?" This question comes from a male Fae across the circle, his eyes fixed on me in a way that makes my skin crawl.
Something breaks his relentless stare and he actually, physically jolts, looking away like he was just shocked.
When I dare a glance to my right, Caelyx is facing the other Fae's direction, and I could swear his eyes are redder, but I don't dare look for more than a second. Better not give him any ammo.
What the fuck just happened?
"It varies by species and individual nature, but there are some generalities.
Heightened awareness of the other's presence," the professor replies, seemingly oblivious to whatever alpha male power struggle is going on here.
Or just numb to it. "Increased sensitivity to their emotions.
In some cases, the ability to sense their location or physical state across great distances.
And, of course, the mating drive itself becomes particularly intense. "
Several people shift in their seats. The pheromones in the room ratchet up another notch, and I have to resist the urge to bolt for the door.
This is starting to feel less like a classroom and more like a pressure cooker. Alphas and omegas, all stuffed into the same space, discussing topics that tend to make both classes react in unexpected ways. This is the last fucking place I want to be.
"Now," Professor Riverden continues, "let's discuss pack bonds, which are somewhat different in nature..."
She drones on, but I'm finding it hard to focus even if this is exactly the shit I should be honed in on. Caelyx's presence beside me is like a live wire, making me hyperaware of his every movement, his every breath. I can feel the heat coming off his body, smell that impossibly good scent.
This is bad. This is very, very bad.
I need to focus on why I'm here. Prince Corvinus. The mission. Not his younger brother who looks at me like a puzzle he wants to solve with his teeth. Or his dick. Still not sure which.
The class drags on for what feels like hours. By the time Professor Riverden finally dismisses us, I'm wound tighter than a spring. I shove my notes into my bag, ready to make a tactical retreat, when disaster strikes.
My papers explode out of my bag like someone set off a bomb inside it. They scatter across the floor in a perfect arc, and I know immediately this isn't natural. The bag was closed. Zipped. Secure.
Magic.
I look up, and sure enough, Caelyx is watching me with an expression of polite interest that doesn't quite hide the satisfaction in those red eyes.
"Let me help you with that," he says, already bending to gather the scattered papers.
The classroom empties with remarkable speed. Even Professor Riverden suddenly remembers she has somewhere urgent to be. In less than thirty seconds, we're completely alone.
Awesome.
"That was subtle," I say, dropping to my knees to collect my things. "Did you learn that trick in 'How to Be a Manipulative Asshole 101'?"
Talking to the prince that way is borderline suicide, but if I don't find a way to extinguish his interest now, I'm as good as dead anyway. Unfortunately, being a smartass doesn't seem to do the trick.
He laughs, handing me a stack of papers. Our fingers brush, and electricity shoots up my arm.
"You're nervous," he observes, as if he doesn't know perfectly well I know he can hear my racing heart.
"Wow. Your powers of observation are truly astounding. Do you do parties?"
His eyes glitter with amusement. "Such sharp teeth for such a little rabbit."
"I'm not a rabbit."
"No?" He tilts his head, studying me with those impossible eyes. "Then what are you?"
"Tired. Annoyed. Desperately in need of a drink and about seventeen hours of sleep."
"There's that refreshing honesty again." He stands, offering me a hand up. I ignore it, pushing myself to my feet. "Most omegas would be falling over themselves for my attention, you know."
Coming from anyone else, it would sound downright narcissistic. From him, it's just a statement of fact.
"Yeah, well, most omegas probably weren't raised to see you as target practice."
The words are out before I can stop them. Then again, he already knows what I am, so hiding it would probably be more suspicious.
But instead of being offended, he looks delighted. "Is that what I am to you? Target practice?"
"Not anymore," I say, going for casual and probably landing somewhere around manic. "Now you're just one of the last four people on campus I need to have anything to do with."
"Oh?" That seems to genuinely pique his interest. "And why is that?"
I give a stilted laugh. As if he doesn't already know. "You're a prince. Part of the Golden Triad. Every omega here is gunning for a second of your attention, like you said. And I've had two hours of it, which makes me public enemy number one."
"A fair point," he muses, taking a step forward. I only realize how much ground those long legs can cover and how close I am to the wall when my back hits it. "But wrong on a couple of counts."
"And what are those?" My voice comes out strangled.
"First, I'm not a member of the so-called Golden Triad," he begins calmly, his voice like velvet. "That's my brother, his familiar, and Professor Drakiss. Last I checked, a triad was only three people."
I swallow hard. "Well, I haven't been to math class yet."
A smile that could be classed as a deadly weapon tugs at his infuriatingly full lips.
"Second," he goes on, planting one hand on the wall to the left of my head, just close enough that his thumb tugs gently at a few strands of hair there, "it wasn't a full two hours.
Lunch was only twenty minutes, and the lecture ended early.
The way I see it, you owe me a full twenty-eight minutes. "
My mouth is bone fucking dry, and I can only blame that on the fact that all my extra body fluid seems to have gone elsewhere.
For a split second, I'm worried that my suppressants have failed, but nope.
I don't feel that torturous heat that made it seem like my veins were about to melt in the forest. Just the normal yet damning kind building in my cheeks and between my thighs.
Apparently, suppressants do not stop slick. Good to know.
"I'm afraid I just don't have room in my busy schedule," I say, channeling all the sarcasm left in my body. "No offense."
"None taken." He steps closer, and I have to resist the urge to step back, considering there's nowhere left to go but through the wall. His body is almost touching mine, and the heat coming off him is nearly unbearable. "Though I am curious about something."
"Just one thing? That's showing remarkable restraint."
"You're a hunter omega," he says, and his voice has dropped to something that makes my insides twist into a pretzel.
"Raised to kill creatures like me. Trained from birth to see us as the enemy.
And yet here you are, in the heart of our territory, surrounded by everything you've been taught to hate. "
"Your point?"
"My point," he says, and now he's close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in those red eyes, "is that it's awfully convenient, don't you think?"
"What's convenient about it?" I try to inch toward the door, but he moves with me, casual as a cat. "I got outed as an omega and shipped off to finishing school. Not exactly a master plan."
"No?" He plants his other hand on either side of my head, caging me in. "A trained hunter with access to the university? To the royal family? That doesn't strike you as perhaps too fortunate to be mere coincidence?"
My heart is hammering so hard I'm sure he can hear it. "Are you accusing me of something?"
"Should I be?"
"I don't know. Are you always this paranoid, or am I just special?"
He leans in, and for one terrifying moment I think he's going to put those fangs to use. Instead, he inhales deeply, his nose barely grazing my neck.
It's all I can do to suppress a full-body shudder, and not entirely for the right reasons. Heat floods through me, pooling low in my belly, and I have to bite back a sound that would be absolutely mortifying.
These fucking suppressants are messing with my head.
"You smell like an omega," he murmurs against my skin, more to himself than me. "But then, I suppose that could be faked."
"You—" My voice cracks. I clear my throat and try again. "You think I'm pretending to be an omega? That's your grand theory?"
He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. His have gone darker, the red deepening to something that looks like fresh blood. "I think you're dangerous. Omega or not."
"Pot, meet kettle."
"The difference being," he says, and his smile shows those too-sharp teeth again, "I'm supposed to be dangerous."
"And I'm supposed to be what? Helpless? Harmless? A good little omega who does what she's told?"
"That would be the traditional expectation, yes."
"Yeah, well, tradition can kiss my ass."
He laughs, the sound rich and dark. "Oh, I really do like you, Billie. This is going to be very interesting."
"What is?"
But he's already stepping back, giving me room to breathe. Room to think. Room to remember that I'm here to kill his brother, not engage in whatever the fuck this is.
"I'll see you around, Billie Moreau," he says, heading for the door. "Try not to assassinate anyone before dinner."
I clench my jaw, resisting the urge to dignify that with a very profane response.
And then he's gone, leaving me alone with my scattered papers.
I slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the floor, head in my hands.
This is not going according to plan. I'm supposed to be flying under the radar, playing the grateful omega, getting close to Prince Corvinus without attracting attention.
Instead, I've made enemies of half the omega population on campus and caught the interest of Corvinus's brother I didn't even know existed until two—sorry, one and a half—hours ago.
Fucking fantastic.