It might be minutes later that Hayes guides Talon out of the room. I shut the door on them and lock myself away so I can’t hear what they say to my girl. I don’t fucking want to know what sort of bullshit excuses they do—or don’t—make.
Reid acted on behalf of their pseudo pack. While also hiding the truth about where Sharlene was until she was safely hidden away in her house.
I keep fucking watch though. And while they say goodbye, I start making plans.
Part Two
FOUR YEARS LATER
ChapterSix
RANEY
“Raney,” Tris snorts, so loud it echoes right down to where Omega Beatrice is leading the class. All the other students turn around and look back at us.
And as usual, the sea of faces staring at our work bench ranges from mild horror to all out terror. Although, let’s be serious, the opinions of these pampered omegas has no bearing on us. None at all.
“Cake making was never going to be my forte,” I snicker as I stand back and admire my handiwork, which for the record is pretty fucking spectacular. “And for the sake of the stupids in the front, the arsenic is a prop.”
Of course, one of our classmates whispers back. Her voice even cracking a little with her nerves, “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to poison alphas!”
“Actually, Bella, it’s illegal to poison anyone. Now pay attention to Beatrice, she’s getting to the part about how to manage excess cream. And let’s face it, you need all the help you can get.” Simona smiles sweetly before pushing me out of the way and setting up her portable lighting stand to get a couple of images before we get shut down.
“Sim…” Tris groans softly.
Normally if her heat wasn’t coming up, she’d be bitching right along with us. But Tris gets overly emotional in the run up to her heats.
Simona rolls her eyes before leaning over and giving Bella a side hug of apology, which Bella accepts in an instant. Which is pretty much the norm when you diss an omega, most of them accept an apology even if it’s half assed and not sincere. Just another one of those genetic fuck ups that go hand in hand with the rest of the omega lifestyle. Honestly, the way some of the omegas at Unity roll over and show their belly is truly horrific.
“Thank you, Simona,” Tris says, visibly relaxing before she leans down to look at my practical project, Baking For An Alpha. “You’re wrong about not nailing this cake shit, Raney. What you’ve achieved is a master stroke of beautiful malicious genius.”
“Yeah, well it’s amazing how being rejected helps you find your creative side,” Heidi smirks before I can reply, as she drags her finger down the back of the cake before sucking all the whipped cream clean off it.
“And your tribe,” I say, slapping her hand away when she goes back in for seconds. “Mess up your own cake, Heidi Ho.”
Simona tsks softly, “If the both of you get your fanny out of the shot, I’ll have this wrapped up before Beatrice finishes edging.” In the next second, her mood evaporates, and she becomes a calmer version of herself behind her camera.
We all laugh quietly to not distract her, except for Tris who guffaws because honestly that girl does not have one quiet bone in her body. She was born with one volume: fucking loud. It’s lucky we adore her, or she’d be muzzled and tied up under our workstation like the pig we used for last semester’s practical on Preparing Feasts Fit For Your Alpha.
These girls and I have survived the gauntlet of all the brainless trials and tribulations of omega schooling at the highly commended, Unity Collegiate. Although, our attendance here is not by choice but by government requirement. Because supposedly the second you present as an omega you need a whole new skillset on how to survive and thrive in the world where alphas rule. The mandatory curriculum isn’t expensive, attending Unity is. In King’s mind, me being here and socialising with these girls was as important as passing the endless omega courses on offer. Life without that glossy endorsement on your identification is pretty much non-existent for an omega.
I’m not sure if the whole omega schooling was made better or worse because I had to spend the first few years of my new designation in rehabilitation. I was way older than most of the students here. But the flip side of my late start meant that from the second I limped in the front doors, I was roomed with Tristan, Simona, and Heidi which was amazing for me, not so good for the Omega Mothers. Somehow, the four of us were all older, wiser and a lot more cynical than the rest of the cohort which made life here better than I could have ever envisaged.
Lessons ranged depending on what year level you were and included how to look at an angry alpha while speaking to them respectfully, how to iron a shirt, how to bleach safely (Tris and I were completely horrified this course was about laundry, and not personal grooming). The one course I refuse to even sign up for is alpha biology. I cannot for the life of me understand how Omega Gail’s course about alpha genitalia including having one show up and display his knot to the class is so popular. There is no chance in fucking hell I would sit through that humiliation.
Besides, I know my way around an alpha.
Unsurprisingly, it’s another oddity that makes me stand out at Unity more than the scars that decorate my body. Not only am I older than all the students, but on the sly, I’m the only omega in attendance that has been rejected.
I like to believe I’m not hiding fromthem. Which is a little funny, considering since the moment I woke up in hospital, Reid, Talon, Hayes, and Colt have been hiding from me. They’ve collectively maintained a clear and intentional absence from my life. Like a deep abyss absence, not even a card after Jenn died. Although that’s not quite true, I have had communication, just not from them. Their lawyers keep refusing all my lawyers requests for communication which is why in a few short hours, I’m leaving to go back home to sort this shit out once and for all. And to pack.
I’m not into the miscommunication trope but fuck them. If they don’t have the common courtesy to meet, call, or communicate with me, I see little reason why I have to disclose that I’m now an omega. If they had kept in touch, they’d know that after Colt bit me, my designation bit my ass, but they haven’t, so I don’t think it’s their business at fucking all. Which is why my designation has not been mentioned on any of the numerous forms we have provided requesting the dissolution of their pack claim. It seems like the boys from my childhood don’t want me, but judging by the games they keep playing they don’t want anyone else to have me either.
Despite all that, there was more good than bad during my time at Unity. Hands down, the girls were the absolute best thing. We always had each other’s back; we were there to wipe away the tears and provide all the snacks in the world when one of us goes into heat.
Triple checking the time, it’s a relief to see I have less than an hour to finish up Omega Beatrice’s class and get ready for the other part of my long endeavour in reclaiming myself, Kozantine Siderno. In that regard, the saying it’s easier to get over your exes by getting under a new lover, is not fucking wrong at all.
Koz is the type of alpha you definitely do not want to take home to daddy. Although, in my case it was King’s business at the Fallen clubhouse that made our paths cross in the first place. And despite the thousand or so lectures I got from King about Koz being too old for me, his excuses have fallen on deaf ears. Amusingly, the fact that Koz is an international arms dealer has never been an issue for King.
