“I hope so.” I smile at her. “Gram says they would be, but…” I exhale deeply. “I sometimes wish I had my mom to ask about stuff. Gram has done an amazing job and taught me everything she could, but she doesn’t fully understand what being an omega is like. I… I… I feel like I’m not good at this. I don’t know how to be. Sorry, I’m probably making no sense.”
“You’re making perfect sense.” Delilah reaches over to clasp my hand. “But you’ve got us now. We’re here to help.”
“And make sure you don’t get accosted by weirdos like Kyro again,” Sabs adds.
I recall the handsome alpha I ran into last night and consider telling them about him, but I choose to stay quiet. I know they’d understand and wouldn’t judge, but this is still only my second day here, and that was my first real interaction with an alpha. Maybe a reaction like that is normal and something I’ll get used to.
Kady passes around blankets for each of us before dimming the lights. My eyelids grow heavy while Delilah and Sabs talk about what bands they want to see play this semester. I start drifting off, finally feeling like I could have a real chance at becoming the omega I truly want to be.
FIVE
Faye
After a few more amazing days bonding with my new Stella sisters, I’m itching to get started and grateful when the start of classes rolls around. I scoff down a delicious blueberry and lemon muffin that Delilah baked the night before. I don’t know how she has time to bake, but she’s able to whip up a scrumptious treat in seconds. It’s not exactly a healthy breakfast, but the sugar boost is exactly what I need before my first class.
I have two courses with Professor Grub, who is one of the founding fathers of health botany. His books have been staple reads for me and Gram, so I feel like a giddy child waiting to meet Father Christmas for the first time.
I’m not the only one who is excited, though. By the time I reach the greenhouse, a line of first-year students are already waiting. I crane to get a better look at the dense greenery pressed against the panes.
“Look, it’s him!” someone shouts. “It’s him!”
“This way!” Professor Grub’s voice is different from what I expected. It’s nasally and wheezy with a high-pitched whiney edge, making every sentence sound like a complaint. “Follow me.”
We’re beckoned inside then jostled down a small path. The humidity hits me the moment I walk inside. Trying to ignore that, I look ahead of us to where an archway of vines form a tunnel. The scents are overwhelming: geraniums, mint, eucalyptus, something rooty, mushrooms, garlic, and more unusual notes, like fig sap and passionflower.
At the end of the tunnel, it opens up into a teaching area where work benches are set up. They’re all equipped with sinks, scales, vials, mortars and pestles, and there’s a larger storage cabinet at the back, stuffed with supplies.
“Choose a bench!” Professor Grub claps his hands. “Come now! No time to waste!”
Everyone hurries to find a spot, and I select a bench right in the front. There are around fifteen of us. From what I can see, there are no alphas and only one other omega—which I find surprising, considering one of the primary uses for health botany is to help omegas.
Professor Grub is short and stout, with a balding head and a round tummy that his shirt buttons strain over. His shrewd, icy-blue eyes scan the room, examining each of us like he’s assessing plant roots to determine whether we’re rotten.
“Welcome to health botany,” he declares. “This subject is a delicate art. A balance of nature and medicine. The epitome of natural healing. My previous students have become some of the most esteemed experts in the world.” He stops to soak in the awed rumblings. “Before we begin, we will go over the greenhouse rules. All of my students have an entry pass, which you’ll collect from me today. You are free to enter whenever you’d like. However, be warned that we do house many poisonous plants that, when mixed incorrectly, could kill every alpha on campus.”
A few girls gasp audibly, and I let out a shy giggle.
His head whips in my direction. “Do you find something funny?”
“N-n-no.” I feel my cheeks flush. I thought he was telling a joke. “S-s-sorry.”
“What’s your name?” he snaps.
“F-f-faye.”
“This class is one to be taken seriously,Faye.” The way his face distorts when he says my name makes it seem like he smelled something foul. “You omegas may think your enhanced scenting abilities will help in this class, but mixing herbs is about more than sensitive nostrils.”
The warmth in my cheeks spreads down my neck. Somehow, I’ve offended him and made a fool of myself in front of the class before we’ve even finished going over the rules.
“As I was saying…” Professor Grub glares at me before continuing. “While you will have unfettered access, make sure you treat all plants with care. We will start today’s class with a test.”
A test? On our first day? All of the saliva in my mouth seems to evaporate.
“In my hands, I’m carrying cards that have the names of twelve rare herbs that are hidden somewhere in this greenhouse.” Professor Grub weaves his way between the tables. “Herbs that are notoriously difficult to identify as they resemble many others. It will be your job to locate the herb on your card then make the elixir outlined underneath it.”
He pauses at each workbench, selecting cards for each student and handing them out.
“Easy,” one beta tsks. “Holy basil.”
