Chapter 28 – Billie
Twenty-Eight
BILLIE
"Are you even reading that?"
I look up from my textbook and find Olivia watching me with a violently arched eyebrow. Clearly, she has zero faith in my ability to study in an overcrowded cafe.
To be fair, I have been reading the same page for the better part of an hour. "I'm…putting my eyes on the page."
She purses her lips and hums, looking back down at her own book. "If you say so."
Great. Corvinus finally gives me the space I asked for and I've spent the entire week waiting for something to happen. Now I'm starting to crack and even my roommate is noticing.
A burst of laughter erupts from a nearby table, and I don't have to look to know it's Isabella's crew. The passive-aggressive bullshit has ramped up since Tallon's intervention.
There haven't been any more physical confrontations—they're not stupid enough to risk his wrath again—but they've switched tactics to harsh whispers, pointed stares, and "accidentally" blocking my path in the hallway.
Omegas are creative, I'll give us that.
Olivia kicks me under the table, hard enough to make me wince. "They're staring again."
"Let them stare." I take a sip of my coffee, which I'm pretty sure the barista just dumped sugar in even though I told her I wanted it black. "Not like they can do anything about it."
"Says the girl who got jumped in an empty classroom last week." She grimaces, rubbing her arm. "I still can't wear sleeveless dresses after those catty bitches sunk their claws in."
"That was before Tallon used his alpha bark on those bitches." I turn a page I still haven't read, giving up. "Pretty sure Corvinus threatened to put a hit out on anyone who touched me after that because no one has since."
"No, but they've been making my life a living hell," she huffs. "Brittany 'accidentally' spilled her entire lunch tray on me yesterday. In front of everyone."
Guilt twists in my stomach. "Fuck. Olivia, I'm sorry—"
"Don't." She waves a hand, cutting me off. "I'm not asking you to apologize or fix it. Just stating facts."
"You don't have to hang out with me," I point out. "We're roommates, not joined at the hip. You could easily tell them you can't stand me and—"
"Oh, please. The damage is already done," she says with a bitter laugh. "They've decided I'm your ally, which makes me guilty by association. Might as well own it at this point."
I study her across the table. Pink sweater, perfectly curled golden hair, makeup that probably took an hour to apply. Everything about her screams traditional omega except the steel in her eyes. Princess Pink has claws under all that glitter.
"You're tougher than you look," I say.
"Obviously." She flips her hair over her shoulder with a dramatic flourish. "You think I survived this place for a semester before you showed up by being soft?"
Fair point.
"Speaking of surviving," I lean forward, lowering my voice even though the surrounding tables are too busy gossiping to pay attention, "how's the shifter situation going?"
Her entire face lights up and I have to resist the urge to shield my eyes from the sheer wattage of her smile.
"Everen set the date to meet his pack," she gushes, and yep, there it is. Girl's already in love. "It's tonight!"
My stomach drops. "Tonight? Already?"
"Is that bad?" Worry creeps into her expression. "You think it's too soon? I don't want to seem desperate."
"I think..." I choose my words carefully, because the last thing I want is to sound like an overprotective parent. "I think shifter packs can be intense. Territorial. You sure you're ready for that?"
"No." She laughs, fiddling nervously with her coffee cup. "But he says they're excited to meet me, so I can't exactly back out now."
"You absolutely can. Just say the word and I'll help you fake a sudden illness. Food poisoning. Heat cycle. Whatever you need."
She reaches across the table and takes my hand. I freeze, because I'm not used to human contact. Especially not the kind that doesn't come with a dagger in the back. "I appreciate that. Really. But I want to go. I'm just nervous."
Of course she is. Meeting an entire pack of supernatural predators who've probably never had a human let alone an omega in their den before.
What could possibly go wrong?
"Listen," I say, trying to channel something resembling reassurance as I begin to subtly pull my hand back, because that's enough fuzzy warmies for the day.
"If any of them make you uncomfortable, if anything feels off, you get the fuck out.
Don't worry about being polite or making a good impression. You hear me?"
"Billie…"
"I'm serious." I lean in again, dropping my voice to barely above a whisper. "You feel threatened, you fight dirty. Go for the eyes, the throat, the balls. Doesn't matter how big they are or how strong, everyone has weak points."
Her eyes go wide. "You want me to assault my boyfriend's packmates?"
"I want you to survive meeting your boyfriend's packmates." I sit back, crossing my arms. "Big difference."
She's quiet for a moment, then that brilliant smile returns. "You actually care. Under all that prickly hunter bullshit, you actually give a damn."
"And here I was starting not to hate you."
"Your secret's safe with me." She releases my hand, going back to her notes with renewed focus. Then, without looking up, "So when are you going to admit you've bagged the three most eligible alphas on campus?"
I nearly spit out my coffee. "Excuse me?"
"Prince Corvinus is in almost all your classes, carrying your bag, basically following you around like a giant lost puppy despite you rejecting him." She ticks off on her fingers. "Tallon Fairfax went full alpha-mode defending you from Isabella. And Professor Drakiss—"
"Is a professor who barely tolerates my existence," I cut in. "Not exactly a conquest."
"He let you break Prince Corvinus's nose without consequence." She raises an eyebrow. "That's basically a marriage proposal in this world."
"Or he was just entertained by watching his prince get taken down a peg."
"And then there's Prince Caelyx." She leans back, studying me with those too-perceptive eyes. "Who's basically stalking you at this point."
My blood runs cold. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, come on." She gestures vaguely toward the windows overlooking the courtyard. "He's always around when you are. Watching from the shadows like some kind of creepy guardian angel. It's actually kind of romantic, in a serial killer sort of way."
More like he's keeping tabs on his investment.
Making sure I don't blow our arrangement before he gets what he wants out of it, even if he can't be bothered to tell me what his next move is.
I'm not even sure he wants to work with me anymore after he found me and Corvinus in the bathroom. He hasn't left me any messages or tried to arrange a meeting.
But he hasn't turned me in, either.
It's an uneasy truce that could end with both our heads on a pike, but it is what it is.
"I'm not interested in any of them," I say firmly, more to convince myself than her. "Not Prince Corvinus, not Tallon, not the professor, and definitely not Prince Caelyx."
If she had any idea I let Corvinus eat me out in the school bathroom, that insistence would lose all its bite.
"Sure you're not." Her smile is all knowing. "That's why you turn bright red every time one of them is mentioned."
"That's anger."
"If you say so."
I want to argue, to explain that everything about this situation is fucked and the last thing I need is romantic complications, but isn't that what I've agreed to do?
Just because Caelyx hasn't said a damn word about the plan in over a week doesn't mean otherwise. And even if he has ditched me, I have to stay the course. It's the only way I'll get my vengeance.
"How are the alpha classes?" Olivia asks, mercifully changing the subject. "You surviving being the only omega?"
"Surprisingly, yeah." I flip to a different page in my textbook, this one about defensive ward construction. "It's actually... interesting."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Interesting? You think something at this school is interesting?"
"Don't sound so shocked." I trace the diagram with my finger, committing the pattern to memory. "Combat theory, weapon enchantment, tactical magic, it's all stuff I should know. Stuff that could—"
I cut myself off before I can say "help me complete my mission." But Olivia's not stupid. She fills in the blanks on her own.
"Stuff that could help you survive in a world full of supernaturals," she finishes diplomatically. "Even if you end up claimed by some Fae who keeps you locked in a tower somewhere."
"Exactly. Besides, I've only ever studied this stuff through a hunter's lens," I admit, turning the page.
"It's interesting to see the Fae perspective.
And the weapons are next level. Professor Thorbridge is bringing in a polearm enchanted with winter magic that—" I cut myself off when I realize Olivia is gawking.
"You're kind of geeking out right now." A smile tugs at her lips. "Oh my gods, this is like fashion for you, isn't it? All this weapons and magic stuff?"
I want to deny it, but she's not wrong. Every class with actual substance, actual skills I can use, makes me feel a little more like my old self, before all this omega bullshit.
Like I'm not completely useless in this new skin and maybe being an omega doesn't mean I have to forget everything that made me me.
"Maybe," I admit grudgingly. "At least I'm learning something useful instead of just seventeen different ways to arrange throw pillows."
"Hey, nesting is an art form." She points her pen at me accusingly. "And you're getting better at it, by the way. Madame Silvaine actually smiled at our last attempt."
"She has resting bitch face. That could have been a grimace."
"It was definitely a smile." Olivia goes back to her notes, but I catch the pleased expression on her face. "You're adjusting. In your own stabby, violent way, but you're adjusting."