Page 45 of Vicious Kings
"I'll walk you," he says when I don't respond.
Of course he will.
I say nothing the entire way, hoping he'll get bored.
The walk to class is an exercise in torture. Everyone stares. Everyone whispers. Everyone wonders what the freak omega is doing with Prince Caelyx. I wonder the same thing.
The classroom is different from the others. Bigger, for one thing, with seats arranged in a circle rather than rows. But unlike my first class, they're actual seats. No fluffy pillows. The colors are muted earth tones rather than unicorn barf.
And it's not just omegas who are present. For the first time since arriving, I'm in a room with alphas. Fae mostly, but I spot a few shifters and what might be a djinn in the corner. The air is thick with pheromones, all of them seeming to give the same pulsing, unspoken command.Submit.
No thanks.
I find a seat as far from Caelyx as possible, which turns out to be pointless because he just drops into the one next to mine. The temperature in the room drops about ten degrees as every omega in the vicinity realizes what's happening.
"You're going to make me very unpopular," I mutter.
"You were already unpopular," he points out. "I'm merely adding fuel to the fire."
Okay, now Iknowhe's fucking with me. A part of me grudgingly respects that he's not even bothering to hide it.
"How generous of you."
Professor Riverden enters before I can say anything else. She's Fae, obviously. White hair, gray eyes.
"Welcome to Bonding Theory and Practice," she says, her voice carrying easily through the room. "Today, we'll be discussing the various types of bonds that can form between individuals of compatible biology."
She launches into a lecture about mate bonds, pack bonds, and various other ways people can tie their souls together like supernatural friendship bracelets. I take notes mechanically, trying to ignore the weight of Caelyx's attention, which definitely isn't focused on the professor.
"The strongest bonds," Professor Riverden continues, "are those formed between true mates. These are rare, perhaps one inten thousand, but when they occur, they create a connection that transcends physical death itself."
Someone raises their hand—a pretty blonde omega who looks like she stepped out of a fairy tale. "Professor, how do you know if someone is your true mate?"
"An excellent question, Miss Meadows." Makes sense her name is Meadows. She looks like a fucking flower in human form. "True mates often experience an immediate recognition, though this can manifest differently for different individuals. Some describe it as a pulling sensation, as if their very souls are trying to merge. Others speak of a sense of completion, of finding a piece of themselves they didn't know was missing."
"And the physical symptoms?" This question comes from a male Fae across the circle, his eyes fixed on me in a way that makes my skin crawl.
Something breaks his relentless stare and he actually, physically jolts, looking away like he was just shocked. When I dare a glance to my right, Caelyx is facing the other Fae's direction, and I could swear his eyes are redder, but I don't dare look for more than a second. Better not give him any ammo.
What the fuck just happened?
"It varies by species and individual nature, but there are some generalities. Heightened awareness of the other's presence," the professor replies, seemingly oblivious to whatever alpha male power struggle is going on here. Or just numb to it. "Increased sensitivity to their emotions. In some cases, the ability to sense their location or physical state across great distances. And, of course, the mating drive itself becomes particularly intense."
Several people shift in their seats. The pheromones in the room ratchet up another notch, and I have to resist the urge to bolt for the door.
This is starting to feel less like a classroom and more like a pressure cooker. Alphas and omegas, all stuffed into the same space, discussing topics that tend to make both classes react in unexpected ways. This is the last fucking place I want to be.
"Now," Professor Riverden continues, "let's discuss pack bonds, which are somewhat different in nature..."
She drones on, but I'm finding it hard to focus even if this is exactly the shit I should be honed in on. Caelyx's presence beside me is like a live wire, making me hyperaware of his every movement, his every breath. I can feel the heat coming off his body, smell that impossibly good scent.
This is bad. This is very, very bad.
I need to focus on why I'm here. Prince Corvinus. The mission. Not his younger brother who looks at me like a puzzle he wants to solve with his teeth. Or his dick. Still not sure which.
The class drags on for what feels like hours. By the time Professor Riverden finally dismisses us, I'm wound tighter than a spring. I shove my notes into my bag, ready to make a tactical retreat, when disaster strikes.
My papers explode out of my bag like someone set off a bomb inside it. They scatter across the floor in a perfect arc, and I know immediately this isn't natural. The bag was closed. Zipped. Secure.
