Chapter 18 – Billie
Eighteen
BILLIE
What the hell does starlight even smell like?
Fuck if I know. And yet, as I stare at this man I've loathed for eight years, that's exactly what my brain registers his scent as.
Prince Corvinus tilts his head, studying me like I'm a butterfly on a pinboard. His winter-sky eyes hold a detached curiosity that makes me want to drive a knife through his Adam's apple.
"The omega hunter," he says in a voice like crushed velvet over broken glass. "How delightfully contradictory."
I force myself to curtsy, a pathetic, wobbly thing that would make Madame Loriyne weep in frustration. "Your Highness."
The dark-haired man, who must be Professor Locke Drakiss, leans forward, those obsidian eyes dissecting me layer by layer. "Curious timing, your arrival at Valemyre."
Straight to the punch with this one.
"Not really." I sink into the obscenely plush seating when Tallon guides me down, trying not to let it show how the cushions threaten to swallow me whole. "The Shepherd wanted me gone. The university wanted a new omega. Simple transaction."
"Nothing involving the Moreau clan is ever simple," Drakiss says with a dismissive edge in his voice.
I keep my expression bland. Of course they know who I am. The whole fucking campus knows by now. The hunter's daughter turned omega to be whored out to the Fae who bids the highest. But that doesn't mean they know why I'm really here. It can't.
"The Moreau clan doesn't exist for me anymore," I say, injecting just enough bitterness to sell it. "They made that clear when they threw me out like garbage."
Tallon's hand brushes my shoulder in a touch meant to be comforting, probably, but it sends an unwanted shiver down my spine. "I can't imagine how awful that was for you."
"It was illuminating." I smile stiffly. "Twenty years of being told I'd amount to something special, only to find out I'm just another breeder for the Fae to collect."
Corvinus laughs, but there's no humor in the sound. More like the same horror I saw from the headmaster when I recounted my sordid little tale. "Just another breeder? My dear, you're far more interesting than that."
He rises from his seat with catlike grace, moving closer until he's standing directly in front of me. This close, his beauty is almost painful to look at, like staring into the sun.
If the sun was an arrogant asshole who murdered people.
"A hunter raised from birth to kill the Fae, transformed into the very thing we covet most." His fingers ghost under my chin, tilting my face up toward him. "The irony is delicious."
Every instinct screams at me to snap his wrist, to headbutt that perfect nose, to grab the decorative letter opener on the side table and see how far I can shove it into his eye socket. But I stay still, letting him study me like I'm some exotic pet he's considering for purchase.
"I could make your time at Valemyre very comfortable," he says, and his thumb traces along my jaw. "A private suite in the claimed omega wing. Protection from the more... aggressive students Tallon tells me you've been having trouble with."
My gaze slides over to the shifter, who smiles patiently as he sips his wine, as if he's waiting for the prince to close the deal. A foregone conclusion.
That's why he brought me here. Because Corvinus is bored with the endless options at his beck and call and wants his novelty.
"You'd have access to resources your current scholarship could never provide," Prince Corvinus continues. "All you have to do is say yes."
My stomach churns. This is it. This is what I came for. Say yes, you fucking idiot. Say yes and get close enough to—
"In exchange for what?" The words that come out of my mouth certainly don't sound like a yes. They're also dripping with sarcasm. "Being your pet?"
Oops.
His smile widens, showing teeth that are just a little too sharp. Not as sharp as Caelyx's, though, and only the one set. "If you wish to call it that."
"You collar omegas and dress them in frilly pink bullshit," I say flatly, because evidently this is my version of being charming. You work with what you have, and what I have is mommy issues and unbridled feminine rage. "What else would you call it?"
"Such a crude term." Corvinus releases my chin, circling behind me like a shark. "Think of it as a mutually beneficial arrangement. You get protection and privilege. I get the novelty of a hunter on a leash, who just so happens to be an omega."
The rage that floods through me is so intense I see red. This fucking prick. This arrogant, entitled piece of shit who killed my mother and ruined my life wants to parade me around like a trophy. The word is out before I can stop it.
"No."
Oops again.
"No?" Corvinus repeats, like he's genuinely never heard the word before.
"I said no." I stand, needing to not be surrounded by them, needing space to breathe. "Find another omega to play dress-up with. I'm sure Isabella would cream herself for the opportunity."
Tallon makes a choking sound that might be suppressed laughter. Or he's aspirating on his sparkly drink. Locke's expression doesn't change, but his energy gets even stormier.
Corvinus just looks... amused.
"How refreshingly honest." He returns to his seat and sinks into it with that same easy grace. "Most omegas would kill for such an offer."
"I'm not most omegas."
"No," he agrees thoughtfully. "You certainly aren't."
I've fucked up. I've completely, utterly fucked up. He's offering me exactly what I need—proximity, access, and plenty of chances to learn his patterns—and I'm throwing it away because my pride won't let me bow to the bastard who destroyed everything.
"I should go," I say, because if I stay here another second, I'm going to do something spectacularly stupid but satisfying. Like try to strangle him with my bare hands.
"So soon?" Tallon stands with me, and he looks genuinely disappointed. "The party's just getting started."
"I need to find my friend." It's a weak excuse, considering I'm pretty sure Olivia doesn't want to be found, but it's all I've got. And now that I'm standing, I'm just close enough to swipe that letter opener and stash it in the pocket of my skirt without any of them noticing.
"The pink omega?" Locke's voice is flat, unimpressed. "Everen has her well entertained."
Clearly he's been watching our every move, despite the disaffected routine.
"Then I need air." I move toward the stairs before any of them can stop me. "Thank you for the... offer, Your Highness. I'm sure you'll find someone more suitable."
I don't wait for a response, just flee down those ridiculous floating stairs like my life depends on it.
And considering how close I am to attempting to behead the prince with a letter opener, it probably does.
My heels click against the dragon glass, each step a reminder of how badly I've fucked this up.
I'm a hunter, not a spy.
I was trained to kill, not to seduce and manipulate. The Shepherd should have known this would happen. Should have known I couldn't stomach playing nice with my mother's murderer long enough to get close.
But that doesn't mean the mission is over.
The shimmer. Olivia said it collapses after a set time. If I could find a way to accelerate that collapse, to trap them all inside when it goes...
The thought takes root, spreading through my mind like poison. It wouldn't be clean or honorable, but when has anything about this been honorable? They'd all die when the pocket dimension imploded. Every Fae here, including the precious Prince and his bonded pack.
I scan the crowd, looking for Olivia's unmistakable pink cotton candy cloud of a dress. She's by the bar, laughing at something Everen is saying, looking more relaxed than I've ever seen her. Fuck. I can't leave her here to die. It's my fault she's here in the first place.
As I weave through the crowd, I study the architecture, looking for weak points. The whole space hums with magic, reality bent and twisted to create this impossible paradise. There—near the windows. The magic feels thinner there, like fabric worn too bare. If I could just disrupt it somehow...
"Billie!" Olivia's voice is bright with champagne. "Where have you been?"
"Around." I grab her arm, trying to look casual as I lead her away from the semi-immortal thirst trap. "We need to go."
"What? No!" She yanks away, pouting. "Everen was just telling me about his travels through the Shadow Courts."
The shifter watches me with amber eyes far too alert. "Leaving already?"
"Billie's just tired," Olivia says, waving her hand dismissively. "She can go. I'll find my own way back."
"You don't even know where we are," I hiss.
"I don't care." She turns back to Everen with a smile that makes me want to shake some sense into her.
Fine. If she wants to play difficult, I'll just have to give her a reason to leave.
"I was just offered the position of Prince Corvinus's personal pet," I say, loud enough for several nearby Fae to hear. "Turned him down flat."
Olivia's champagne glass shatters on the floor.
"You WHAT?" Her shriek probably registers on the Richter scale. "Are you fucking insane?"
"Probably."
"He offered you—Prince Corvinus offered you—and you said NO?" She's practically hyperventilating. "Do you have any idea what you just threw away?"
"My self-respect was worth keeping."
Everen steps back, hands raised. "I think I'll give you ladies a moment."
He disappears into the crowd, and Olivia rounds on me like a tiny pink tornado.
"Self-respect? SELF-RESPECT?" She grabs my shoulders, shaking me with more strength than I thought her capable of. "You could have been set for life! Protected! Pampered! And you threw it away for fucking pride?"
"You're welcome to go offer yourself as a replacement." I shrug her off, moving toward the windows. "I'm sure he'd find you entertaining."
"Don't think I won't!" She hoists up her fluffy skirts and follows me, heels clicking furiously. "Someone needs to salvage this disaster."