Chapter 27 – Billie
Twenty-Seven
BILLIE
Evidently, I'm not the only one affected by the bark.
The hands on me release immediately, and I look up to find Tallon standing in the doorway with an expression I've never seen on his usually friendly face.
He looks pissed.
Genuinely pissed, with his green eyes blazing and his shoulders squared. He usually resembles a golden retriever, but right now, he's a rabid wolf ready to attack. The easy-going shifter is gone, replaced by something that makes my omega instincts want to crawl under the nearest desk and hide.
Not going to happen.
"Tallon," Isabella says, and for the first time since I've met her, she sounds uncertain. "We were just—"
"Assaulting another student?" He sweeps into the classroom, and the omegas scatter like leaves, including the ones who were holding Olivia down. "In broad daylight? Are you little harpies trying to get expelled? Because I assure you, I can make that happen."
Isabella looks mortified. I'd almost feel bad for her, if she wasn't such a stone cold bitch who's been set on making my life hell from the moment I stepped on campus.
"She started it," the brunette squeaks, pointing at me. "She's been—"
"I don't give a shit." Tallon's voice drops to something that makes the hair on my arms stand up. Not quite a bark this time, but like a hunter's resonance, the echoes of it leave traces in the air. "Touch her again, and you'll answer to me. All of you."
Isabella's face goes through several interesting color changes. "You're defending her? After she manipulated the registrar just to get close to all of you?"
Confusion crosses the shifter's features before realization sets in and he scoffs a harsh laugh.
"What a paranoid little conspiracy theory. Corvinus transferred her classes himself," Tallon says, and the authority in his voice makes it clear this isn't up for debate. "Without her knowledge or consent. If you have a problem with that, take it up with him. But leave Billie alone."
The silence that follows is so thick you could choke on it.
Isabella's eyes narrow, clearly processing this information. Then her gaze swings back to me, and I see it the grudging realization taking shape that I wasn't lying.
Somehow, I think that makes her hate me even more.
"Ladies," she says, voice returning to its usual icy quality. "We're leaving."
They file out like well-trained soldiers, though not before shooting me looks that promise this isn't over. Isabella pauses at the door, looking back over her shoulder. Pretty sure she's hoping she'll spontaneously develop pyrokinesis.
Boo-fucking-hoo, bitch. That makes two of us.
Then she's gone, leaving me on the floor with scraped palms, a bleeding cheek, and Olivia hovering nearby.
"You okay?" Tallon extends a hand, and I take it reluctantly, letting him pull me to my feet.
"Peachy." I brush dust off my skirt, wincing when my palm stings. "If you're expecting me to thank you for that, you're going to be waiting a long damn time."
He laughs, the tension draining from his shoulders. "Wouldn't dream of it."
"This is your boss's fault," I say, examining the scratches on my arms. They're not deep, but they're definitely going to bruise.
"My boss?" Tallon's grin returns, bright and amused. "Is that what you think Corvinus is to me?"
"I assume that's how the familiar relationship works, isn't it?" I grab my bag from where it fell during the scuffle.
He chuckles, the sound warm despite everything that just happened. "Actually, more or less. You're not wrong."
Olivia clears her throat, still looking shaken. "I should get to class. Are you... are you going to be okay?"
"I'll be fine." I try for reassuring and probably end up closer to 'barely holding it together.' "Go. Don't be late on my account."
She hesitates, then nods, shooting one last worried look at Tallon before fleeing.
"Here," he says, plucking a handkerchief from his pocket like an actual gentleman. He dabs the blood on my cheek before I can stop him, but when he licks his thumb and wipes it across the cut, I dart back.
"What the—" I freeze, realizing my cheek stopped stinging immediately. When I touch it, my hand comes away dry. No blood. "What the fuck?"
He gives me a knowing smile, eyes positively dancing. "Shifter saliva has healing properties."
"That's so gross."
He just laughs. "Gross, but effective. I don't suppose you'd like me to take care of your palms?"
"Absolutely fucking not."
"I thought as much. Come on," Tallon says, offering his arm like we're going to a fucking cotillion instead of weapon enchantment class. "I'll walk you."
"Is that an offer or a command?" I eye his arm suspiciously.
"You know the answer to that."
I do. Of course I do. Everything at this university is a command disguised as a choice. I'm starting to think that's just life as an omega in general.
I slide my arm through his anyway, because what else am I going to do? Show up to class alone and bloody, giving everyone more ammunition to use against me? At least this way I have a witness that I'm not the one starting shit.
And thanks to Isabella and her crew, I'm finally wearing the most convincing and elusive disguise a hunter can possess in her arsenal. Looking harmless.
We walk in silence for a few moments, him matching his stride to mine even though his legs are significantly longer. The courtyard is busy with students rushing between classes, and I catch the stares, the whispers that follow us like hungry ghosts.
"I knew the moment I saw you," Tallon says conversationally, "that Corvinus would take a liking to you."
I snort. "Lucky me. How did you know?"
"We're a bonded triad." He says it simply, like it explains everything. "We share everything."
The way he emphasizes that last word makes heat creep up my neck. Everything. Emotions, thoughts, presumably even lovers.
"That must be convenient," I manage, trying not to picture exactly what 'everything' might entail.
His grin turns wicked. "At times, very."
We reach the Armory Building, a structure that actually looks like it has a purpose beyond making humans feel inadequate. Dark stone, narrow windows, the faint smell of oil and metal that speaks to weapons being maintained. I can't help feeling a prickle of excitement at the thought.
Maybe I can convince Corvinus that a tour of the armory is romance.
Fae enchantments are the stuff of legend, to the point where a fallen Fae's enchanted blade or polearm is every hunter's dream trophy.
I've only had this class twice so far, and both times the professor wanted to hold session outside to enjoy the weather, so I never got a glance at the goodies this baby holds in store.
And sure enough, Corvinus is already there when we arrive.
He's leaning against the doorframe like he owns it, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Those wintry eyes find mine immediately, but his arrogance turns to rage when he takes in my disheveled state.
"What happened?" He's suddenly in front of me, hands on my shoulders, examining the scratches on my arms. "Who did this?"
"Minor kerfuffle," I say, trying to step back. He doesn't let me. "Nothing to worry about."
"Tallon?" Corvinus's voice drops to something dangerous, still looking at me but clearly addressing his packmate.
"Isabella and her crew." Tallon's voice is deceptively neutral. "They were under the impression Billie had manipulated you into changing her schedule."
"I see." Corvinus's jaw tightens, and for the briefest of seconds, he looks guilty. "And did you explain that wasn't the case?"
"I did. They didn't seem inclined to believe it until I mentioned you'd done it without her knowledge."
"Good." Corvinus's thumbs brush against my shoulders, gentle in a way that makes my skin ache. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine." I finally manage to shrug him off, putting distance between us. "Can we just go to class? I'd like to learn something useful today instead of discussing my apparent inability to navigate omega politics."
His smile is soft, almost fond, and it makes my stomach twist. "Of course."
The classroom is exactly what I hoped it would be, zero frills and all function. Weapons line the walls, each one carefully maintained and buzzing with subtle magic. The desks are scarred wood instead of polished crystal, and the chairs are actual chairs instead of plush monstrosities.
Finally. A class that might actually teach me something I can use.
Professor Thorbridge, a Fae male with magically inflicted scars crossing his face in patterns that tell stories of fierce battles waged and survived, doesn't even blink when we file in. He's seen everything, clearly, and a student covered in minor injuries barely registers.
Even an omega.
"Today," he says without preamble, "we're discussing the art of magical enhancement. Specifically, how to imbue weapons with properties that amplify their effectiveness against various supernatural targets."
I lean forward despite myself, suddenly very interested in what he has to say.
"Miss Moreau." His gray eyes find mine. "As our resident former hunter, perhaps you could share your experience with enchanted weapons?"
Every head turns toward me. Again. I'm getting really fucking tired of being the center of attention. But I'm surprised a professor is actually acknowledging me in some capacity other than my omega nature.
And of course it's to ask me about something that could get me executed for treason. But if I'm going to play my role here, I have to give them something. Nothing they don't already know.
"We used iron primarily," I say, keeping my voice steady. "Sometimes silver. Cold-forged, blessed with hunter resonance. Effective against most Fae and some shifters."
"And the enchantment process?"