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Shatter’s response—her shock and tears told me one thing that gave me hope: no matter what she claimed, she hadn’t been certain her mates would do this for her at all.
NINETEEN
Now back on suppressants, the subject is rapidly regressing to the state shewas in when she arrived. Additionally, she displays symptoms of depression, including extended periods of catatonia, and has debilitating panic attacks at any mention of her designation as an omega.
SHATTER
My nails dug into my bag as I clutched it to my chest and poked my head into the classroom. It was a smaller space than the auditorium, and full of rows of desks and chairs.
But omega studies didn’t start for another thirty minutes, and there was no one here.
Good, that was good.
This was my most unnerving class, and I wanted to give myself time to get settled.
Dusk, while forcing me to take my scent blocker this morning, had told me I didn’t have to attend. “Could join us in the Genetics and Genomic Arkology class if you want to?” he’d asked.
“I’m fine to go,” I’d replied.
The star he’d placed on my necklace was a symbol of commitment, and I could get out of Rookwood Academy’s mandated Omega Studies classes if his pack agreed that they didn’t mind.
“I want to,” I told him.
I didn’t, but that wasn’t the point.
Ineededto go.
I was good at Arkology, but this was uncharted territory. I might not remember my past before the Institute and then the Estate with Uncle and Aunty Lauren, but I was certain there had never been any omega etiquette education. Ever since I’d discovered my mates existed, I’d been filled with newfound determination to claim my omega side, even damaged and neglected as it was.
There would have to be now, though, with Roxy Vasilli competing for my mates. She held herself far too well, and I was sure she’d been to a dozen classes like this before.
I hurried down the rows and took the desk second from the back. My favourite was the back, but I didn’t want to look as nervous as I was feeling.
As I sat down, I scanned the empty classroom. Two students per desk, which meant I should have a partner. My stomach did a flip as I wondered what they’d think of me.
I hadn’t even tried to smuggle out a scent marked scrunchie this morning, too preoccupied with getting ready. Dusk had ended up leaning against my door frame, asking me why I was making them late as I fretted over putting my hair up or down for the millionth time. Indecision was its own answer, as I’d bumbled about with it to the point of no return: it was either bun, or matted mane. That also meant Umbra’s bite was on display.
I poked it nervously now, trying to catch any stray pieces so it didn’t look too messy. I adjusted my skirt, glancing at the clock. Twenty-three and a half minutes until class started.
Still, I was alone.
I began unpacking my bag.
Pencil case. Notebook. Spare notebook. Spare pencil case (what if someone forgets theirs?). Making friends was foreign to me, and I’d use all the help I could get.
That was another thing I could have when I reached my mates: a chance at something as normal as real friends.
My mates weren't like Dusk and Umbra, who hid from the world. With the Lincoln pack, I could maybe go out with them and meet their friends and make my own. If I got good enough in classes like this, anyway. I'd probably have to wear my contacts; I knew their reputation was important, but I was fine with that.
Cautiously, I unzipped my main pencil case and pulled out the blue registration card. I stared at it for a long moment, my throat suddenly thick. My picture was on it. My scent. A string of twelve numbers I’d spent all night memorising. My signature, which I’d practised for hours last night, before I was finally brave enough to write it. I'd made sure the Kingsman part of the name was less readable in case I had to change it when I reached my mates. Dusk had said I didn't owe Ransom anything for it. Would he understand that I couldn’t stop fighting to get to them?
But the card wasperfect.
I shoved it back inside, glancing up at the empty classroom.
I nudged the pencil case off-kilter so I could re-adjust it, foot tapping on the hardwood. After another minute of silence, I unzipped the pencil case again, and tugged out the card, placing it perfectly neatly between my pens and notebooks.
It wasOmegaStudies… this was mine now. Proof I was like them, even if Dusk forced me to hide my scent.
