Chapter 26 – Billie
Twenty-Six
BILLIE
The fabric slips through my fingers like water. I'm supposed to be arranging it into something that screams "safe space for a vulnerable omega," but all I can think about is how many different ways I could strangle someone with it.
Three someones, in fact.
Maybe a fourth, depending on how he behaves.
Three days since Caelyx gave me that iron key and told me to play along with Corvinus's obsession.
And it's been three more days of Prince Charming being in every single one of my classes except this one, asking pointed questions he already fucking knows the answers to and carrying my bag like we're sweethearts in high school.
And not a word from Caelyx about when we're meeting again.
"You're doing it wrong," Olivia says, not unkindly, reaching over to adjust the pillows I've stacked like defensive fortifications instead of the welcoming nest they're supposed to be. "It's supposed to invite someone in, not keep them out."
"Maybe I don't want anyone in," I mutter, but I let her rearrange them anyway.
The Nesting and Domestic Arts classroom is exactly what you'd expect, with soft lighting and pastel everything. There are stations set up for pairs of omegas to practice building the perfect sanctuary.
The professor, a Fae woman named Madame Silvaine who makes Madame Loriyne look relaxed by comparison, circles the room like a shark, critiquing everyone's work with absolute brutality for something that's supposed to be subjective.
At least Corvinus doesn't take this class. Apparently even his obsession has limits.
Thank the saints.
Olivia hums while she works, completely in her element as she transforms our disaster of a nest into something that actually looks... nice.
I hate how good she is at this. Hate that there's a part of me that actually finds it soothing to watch her arrange fabrics and pillows like it's an art.
"Everen asked me to meet his pack soon," she says casually, like she's discussing the weather instead of dropping a bomb.
I pause mid-pillow placement. "His pack?"
"Mmhmm." She's glowing with happiness that makes her look even more like a sparkly pink princess than usual. "He says they've been dying to meet me. Isn't that sweet?"
Sweet. Right.
Or it's a trap.
Or a test.
Or any number of things that could go catastrophically wrong when you're a human omega being introduced to a pack of supernatural predators.
"Just... be careful," I say, trying to inject concern instead of cynicism into my voice. "You don't really know if you can trust him yet."
She looks at me like I've suggested she kick a puppy. "Why? Because you're a hunter and he's a shifter?"
"No." I sit back on my heels, meeting her eyes. "Because he's a guy. And particularly because he's an alpha."
Olivia's expression softens slightly. "You really don't trust anyone, do you?"
"Not anymore."
She's quiet for a moment, then goes back to fluffing a throw pillow with more force than necessary. "And yet you spend your days hanging out with the golden triad."
"I'd hardly call forced proximity 'hanging out.'"
She rolls her eyes, like she thinks this is a trivial difference. "They're all talking about it, just so you know."
My stomach drops. "Talking about what, exactly?"
"About how Prince Corvinus is in all your classes now."
"Technically, I'm in most of his."
"How he carries your bag," she goes on, ignoring me. "Then how you broke his nose and he just smiled." She shoots me a look that's equal parts curiosity and concern. "Even for Valemyre, that's weird behavior."
"I don't really care what people talk about," I say, which is mostly true. Let them gossip. Better they think I'm Corvinus's new fixation than suspect what I'm actually planning.
And Isabella hasn't followed through on any of her threats yet, so that's something, I guess.
"Then I guess you won't care about the rumor that you were talking to Prince Caelyx in the gardens yesterday."
I freeze, my hands going still on the pillow I'm holding.
Shit.
"People saw that?" I try to keep my voice casual, but it comes out strangled.
"Billie, this is Valemyre. People see everything." She lowers her voice, leaning closer. "You should be careful with him. He's Unseelie."
Like I could forget. The red eyes, the dark magic, the garden of probably-man-eating plants. Everything about him screams danger in princely packaging.
"All Fae are the same to me," I say, which isn't technically a lie. They're all obstacles between me and my target, just in different color schemes.
"You know they eat people, right?" Olivia whispers, her eyes wide. "The Unseelie. I've heard stories about what they do to humans in their realm. It's not pretty."
I think about Caelyx's sharp teeth, the way he'd looked at me like he was deciding where to take the first bite. "I've heard the rumors."
"And you're not worried?"
"I don't think I'd taste very good." I shrug, going back to arranging pillows. "Too bitter."
That actually gets a laugh out of her. "You're insane."
"So I've been told."
We work in surprisingly companionable silence for a few minutes, and I'm struck by how much easier this is than it was a week ago.
Olivia's still prissy and obsessed with her appearance, still makes me want to scream with her constant humming and perfume-spraying.
And I'm sure she finds me at least as perplexing.
But she hasn't tried to get me killed yet, which puts her ahead of most people at this university. I wouldn't say we're friends, but we're not enemies either.
Progress.
"Ladies." Madame Silvaine's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Let's see what you've created."
She glides over to our station and her silver eyes sweep over our nest, taking in every detail with scrutiny.
"Interesting," she says, and I can't tell if that's good or bad.
"I helped quite a bit," Olivia offers quickly, clearly trying to cover for my obvious lack of enthusiasm. "Billie's still getting used to the whole nesting thing."
Madame Silvaine's lips twitch. "I can see that. The defensive pillow placement is rather... telling."
Fuck. I thought I'd hidden that better.
"However," she continues, running one perfectly manicured finger along the edge of a silk throw, "the overall composition shows promise. The balance between protection and invitation is actually quite sophisticated for a first attempt."
Wait. Did she just… compliment me?
"Thank you, Madame," Olivia says, beaming.
"Keep practicing, ladies. By the end of the semester, I expect to see nests worthy of royalty from both of you." She moves on to terrorize the next pair, leaving us in her wake.
"See?" Olivia nudges me with her elbow. "You're not terrible at this."
"Don't get used to it. I'm still planning to burn this whole nest the second she's not looking."
Across the room, Isabella and her crew have been glaring at me the entire class.
Their nest looks like something out of a magazine spread with flowing fabrics in coordinated shades of emerald and gold, pillows arranged in artful patterns.
I think Isabella's is supposed to look like a flower.
Every detail screams look how desirable I am.
It's making me nauseous just looking at it.
Isabella catches me staring and her smile turns predatory. Great. She's definitely planning something.
So much for thinking she'd moved on.
Anastasia's words come back to haunt me like prophecy. Thanks to Corvinus, I've made an enemy out of the one omega on this campus I actually need to watch out for.
The bell rings, saving me from having to endure any more passive-aggressive nest judging. I help Olivia dismantle our creation, carefully folding the expensive fabrics.
"I have Weapon Enchantment next," I say, shouldering my bag. "You?"
"Advanced Courtly Dance." She makes a face. "Three hours of learning how to waltz without stepping on Fae toes. Kill me now."
"At least you don't have to deal with—"
"Billie."
The voice cuts through the classroom chatter and I freeze. I turn to find Isabella standing in the doorway, flanked by her usual posse of perfectly coiffed nightmares. Her emerald dress catches the light, making her look like some kind of avenging angel.
If angels were petty and vindictive and really, really good at destroying people with a smile.
Olivia goes pale and grips my arm, her pointy little pink nails digging into my flesh. "We should go."
But I'm tired. Tired of running, tired of backing down, tired of playing nice with people who'd happily see me gutted for looking at them wrong.
"Go ahead," I tell her. "I'll catch up."
"Billie—"
"Go."
She hesitates, clearly torn between self-preservation and whatever weird roommate loyalty we've developed. Then she squares her shoulders, surprising the hell out of me by not immediately fleeing like I expected.
Maybe Princess Pink has a spine after all.
Isabella glides into the classroom with her crew trailing behind like particularly vicious ducklings.
The other omegas scatter, suddenly finding urgent reasons to be elsewhere.
Even Madame Silvaine seems to remember she has somewhere else to be, disappearing through a side door with remarkable speed.
Cowards.
"I thought I made myself clear," Isabella says, her voice soft as silk over a rusty spike. "About what happens to people who try to touch my things."
I cross my arms, forcing myself to stand my ground even though every omega instinct in my body is screaming at me to avoid confrontation. I fucking hate that even more than the slick and the heat combined. "I wasn't aware I'd done that."
"Don't play stupid." She stops directly in front of me, close enough that I can smell her perfume. "You got yourself transferred into Prince Corvinus's classes."
Oh, for fuck's sake.
"That's desperate," one of her crew adds, a blonde whose dress has so much lace it's genuinely a fire hazard. "And pathetic."
"Here I thought hunters might at least have a sense of self-preservation," Isabella says, tilting her head like she's examining a disappointing science project.
The rage that floods through me is so intense I can fucking taste it. This is Corvinus's fault. All of this. If he'd just left my schedule alone, if he'd just accepted my rejection like a normal person instead of stalking me, I wouldn't be standing here getting lectured by the omega mafia.
"I wasn't the one who asked for the transfer," I grit out, proud of how level my voice sounds. "If you have a problem with it, take it up with Corvinus."
Isabella's laugh is piercing. "You expect me to believe the prince changed your entire schedule without your input? That you didn't bat your eyelashes and play the helpless omega until he gave you exactly what you wanted?"
"Believe whatever you want." I start to move past her, done with this conversation. "I have class."
Her hand shoots out, faster than I expected, and shoves me backward.
Hard.
I stumble, catching myself on the edge of a desk before I can fall. The other omegas close in like sharks scenting blood.
"You don't get to walk away from me," Isabella says, and there's ice in her voice now. The kind that could freeze you from the inside out. "Not when you're making a fool of yourself and embarrassing every omega at this university in the process."
"How the fuck am I embarrassing anyone?" I push off the desk, ready to fight if that's what she wants.
"By throwing yourself at a prince who's already spoken for!" One of her crew, a brunette whose collar is heavy enough with diamonds I bet she has back pain, steps forward. "Everyone knows the Triad will choose Isabella. You're just making yourself look desperate."
"I'm not throwing myself at anyone," I say through gritted teeth. "Corvinus is the one who won't fuck off."
Isabella's hand connects with my cheek before I see it coming. The slap echoes through the empty classroom, hard enough to split my cheek on one of her rings.
Olivia gasps. "What the fuck, Isabella? You can't—"
"Shut up, drab." Isabella doesn't even look at her, those dark eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that would probably be terrifying if I hadn't stared down actual monsters before. "This doesn't concern you."
The other omegas move in closer, forming a circle around us. One grabs my arm, nails digging in hard enough to break skin. Another yanks my hair, pulling my head back at an angle that makes my neck strain.
I could break free. Could use the training I've spent twenty years perfecting to put all of them on the floor before they even knew what hit them.
And I still fucking might.
But if I'm going to make this plan work, I need Corvinus and his pack to think I'm vulnerable.
Besides, if I go full hunter on these bitches and end up in whatever padded pink cell that passes for solitary in this place, it's going to be hard to complete my mission.
So I grit my teeth and take it as they shove me between them like a rag doll, their perfectly manicured nails leaving scratches across my arms. One of them trips me and I hit the floor hard, my palms scraping against the stone.
"This is what happens," Isabella says, standing over me like a conquering queen, "when you forget your place."
Olivia pushes one of the girls who shoved me, only to receive a backhand to the face that sends her to the floor with a yelp. That motivates me more than anything they've done to me, but two of the omegas grab me and hold me back before I can launch at her attacker.
I could break their hold, but I'd probably snap their dainty little wrists in the process.
I'm about to say fuck it and start breaking bitches' bones when a voice cuts through the chaos.
"Get your hands off her."
Every omega in the room goes completely still, including me. It's a familiar voice, but there's nothing familiar about the deep growl underneath it, or the current that runs up my spine in response to it.
An alpha bark.
I've never had one used on me, never experienced it beyond what my hunter training prepared me for in the event that I encountered an alpha on the field, but I recognize it instinctively.
Oh, fuck.