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That’s the whole secret, my whole plan.
All I have to do is keep grinding, exhausting my body so hard it can’t be bothered to pump out the sex hormones that’ll force me to awaken. No packs will notice or want me because I’m defective, and at some point, the OCC will have to write me off as a loss.
Management can’t even put me in rotation because it doesn’t matter if I’m twenty-three or sixty-three. If I’m not awakened, I can’t mate or get pregnant.
I have to be so exhausted I can barely function if I’m ever going to have a future.
That leaves me to deal with the present, and the omegas I can feel bitching me out from all the way across campus.
I avoid going back to the dorms for as long as possible, but at some point, I want to sleep on a bed instead of a diving board.
It’s past midnight when I finally cave. Late enough that all the omegas should be tucked in their cozy little beds.
Knowing it won’t go down like that, I detour through the equipment room and pick the lock on the softball club’s cage. Casually armed with an aluminum bat, I sneak through the shadows to my floor.
No one’s around until I hit the common room that’s lit up for a welcoming party. Rachel and five of her minions jump from the couches to surround me.
They’re younger—the oldest maybe nineteen—but they all tower over me.
Height doesn’t scare me.
I have leverage and a killer hitting arm.
What bothers me is the intensity of their scents.
Rachel’s putting off the strongest stench. Her barely there, pre-awakening perfume smells like expired rose water on a good day. Now it hits like thorns and rotted roses. I wrinkle my nose at the bitterness.
“You’re not dancing that solo,” Rachel says through gritted teeth.
“Neither are you.” I point at her air-casted ankle with my bat.
She growls.
It’s a kitten’s growl, high and shrill. I should laugh and blow her off, but no.
Fucking omega instincts.
My spine snaps like she just slapped me and goose bumps wiggle all the way down to my tailbone. I can feel my lip curling, an answering growl rumbling in my chest.
The other omegas rumble, and the sound sets me off again.
I’m surrounded.
Surrounded and exhausted, because as much as I will protect myself, I don’t want to do this.
It’s all so fucking pointless.
Rachel clenches her fists. “You won’t take them from me.”
Huh? “Take who?”
“Cut the bullshit!” one of the mean girls shouts.
“What’s this about?” I shoot her a glare so acid she backs up a step.
“The Wyvern pack. Who do you think the showcase is for?”
Suddenly Rachel’s hysteria makes at least a little bit of sense.
