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ONE
—
M A D D I E
“Less than twenty-fourhours until we meet the Omegas who will be participating in this year’s Mating Trials, ladies and gentlemen,” a disembodied voice says from the speaker of someone’s phone as I make my way to the library.
“Indeed so, Dave. The selection committee has sifted through thousands of nominations from across the globe. Tomorrow, we’ll find out who has been chosen.”
TheRoyal Watchtalk show is everywhere as I hurry along the crowded corridors of Omega Academy, careful not to bump into anyone or trip over my own feet. Every Omega I pass has their head bent to their phone to watch the show. No one has bothered with their earphones because they’re all tuned into the same thing.
Of course, this means none of them pay any attention to me, which suits me just fine. But it also means it’s up to me not to bump into any of them. Where some students seem to weave effortlessly through the throng of moving bodies in the Academy hallways between periods, I just barely stumble through, muttering apologies as my wide, bony hips knock into sides and my elbows jab into ribs.
“For those who are only tuning in now, we’re discussing the upcoming Mating Trials during which Royal Pack Eaton will select an Omega to finally bond with.”
I pull a face, a soft sound of ick pushing up my throat. I’m so sick of hearing about the Trials, but this close to the start of them there’s no escaping it.
At the Cambridge Omega Academy, the students live and breathe for it. All of them, it seems, except for me.
Maybe I’d care more if I had any chance of being nominated.
I scoff to myself, shaking away the bitterness my mum says is unbecoming of an Omega, especially one with absolutely no bonding prospects on her horizon after graduation.
You’d think in revered halls such as these, at one of the oldest OAs in the world, slightly more important things would be occupying the minds of the students than three—admittedly good-looking—royal Alphas choosing a non-royal Omega.
It’s to the point where the staff are just as enamored as us. Screens have been brought into our instruction rooms to replay grainy footage of previous Trials while professors and students alike sigh and swoon at the fantasy. We even had to sit through an entire unit on the historical significance and importance of the Trials in Omega History this past month.
The crowds thin when I turn into the corridor leading to our majestic library. I exhale a quick sigh of relief. If I’ve made it this far without incident, I’m confident I’m in the clear.
At least for now.
Lifting my head properly, I shake my hands out at my sides and smile. The comforting scent of paper and ink fills the air around me, and I breathe it in as I stride into the library. The wide open room with its high, vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows offer me space to take my first full breath since I started classes this morning.
This is my happy place. My sanctuary.
My footsteps are silent on the padded carpet as I turn left toward Ms. Frampton’s office. I tap my knuckles on her door before I walk in.
I won’t find bullies like Clara behind this door. There aren’t professors waiting for me to mess up. There’s no sick mum, no money troubles, and most importantly, no damn Trials.
If only I could take all my classes from the sanctuary of Ms. Frampton’s library office.
Ms. Frampton looks up as I walk in. She pushes her black-rimmed glasses to the bridge of her nose before she smiles and shuts the book she was studying. “Just when I was starting to wonder if I might starve waiting for you.”
I chuckle and drop down into the chair across from her desk that I’ve been thinking of as halfminefor the last two years. “It’s chaos out there. Hundreds of zombie Omegas entranced by their phone screens.”
“Better call security then.”
I snort.
“Royal Watch?” she asks sympathetically as she reaches into her lunchbox and picks up a sandwich. “It’ll be over soon. Did you finish that book I gave you yesterday?”
I nod, rummaging through the satchel on my lap before locating my slightly squashed sandwich and taking it out of its brown paper bag. “I loved the way the Alphas treated the Omega in this one, but I especially liked the Omega herself. She was such a badass lead character.”
Ms. Frampton smiles. “I knew you’d like her. I have a surprise for you today, though. Guess who got her hands on the new Riley North?”
I nearly fall off my chair. “You did? How? I thought it wasn’t out until next week.”
She shrugs, a coy smile playing on her lips as she picks up the paperback and hands it over. “There are some perks to being the head librarian and a literature instructor here, you know. It’s not all about having lunch with you every day.”
