Page 30 of Vicious Kings
"Enjoy your education, Miss Moreau," the other guard adds, and there's something mocking in the way he says it.
Then they're back in the carriage, leaving me standing alone before the massive gates with nothing but my trunks and a growing sense of dread.
The gates open without anyone touching them, because of course they do. Everything here is designed to remind you that you're in their world now, playing by their rules.
I grab the handles of my trunks, grateful for the enchantments that make them lighter than they should be, and step through.
The moment I cross the threshold, I feel it. Eyes on me from every direction. Whispers starting before I've taken five steps down the path.
"Is that her?"
"The wild omega who dropped out of the sky?"
"I heard she was raised by the Seveline cult."
"Look at that collar. So plain."
"She's pretty enough, I suppose."
"Prince Corvinus will be amused."
That last one makes my steps falter for just a moment before I catch myself. Of course they know. Of course everyone already knows about the hunter-turned-omega. I'm probably the most interesting thing to happen here in this perfectly curated paradise in decades.
A group of omegas clustered near a fountain stop their conversation to stare as I pass. They're all dressed in coordinating shades of pink and gold, their collars matching, like some kind of fucked up sorority. The one in the center, a blonde with eyes like chips of ice, looks me up and down with an expression that could freeze hell.
"Ladies," I murmur, inclining my head slightly as I pass.
They don't respond, but I feel their eyes burning into my back as I continue down the path. The weight of their judgment, their assessment, their immediate categorization of me as either threat or prey.
Anastasia's warning echoes in my head.These bitches can be vicious.
But I've faced down vampires and werewolves and creatures that would make these pampered pets piss themselves in terror. I've been trained since childhood to be a weapon.
I can handle a few mean girls in pretty dresses.
The path winds through gardens that smell like every good dream I've ever had, past fountains that sing in harmonies that make my chest tight with emotions I can't name. Students lounge on benches that float a few feet off the ground, their conversations stopping as I pass.
Everyone's watching. Everyone's whispering. Everyone's already forming opinions about the wild omega who shouldn't be here.
Good. Let them watch. Let them whisper. Let them think they know what I am, why I'm here.
Because I know something they don't. I'm not here to find a mate or secure my position in their twisted hierarchy.
I'm here for Prince Corvinus Luxellier.
And I'm going to kill him.
Ten
BILLIE
The second my boot touches the stone path, the world fucking explodes.
One moment I'm walking through the gates like any other new student, if you ignore the whispers following me like hungry ghosts, and the next, reality tears itself a new asshole. Light slams into me from every direction, so bright it burns through my closed eyelids and sets my retinas on fire. My stomach drops like I've been thrown off a cliff, and suddenly I'm not walking anymore. I'm falling sideways through space that shouldn't exist, my trunks spilling around me.
The nausea hits before my feet find solid ground again. I stumble forward, hands scrambling for purchase on something that isn't made of pure magical fuckery. My palms slap against polished wood just as my knees threaten to buckle, and I barely manage to keep myself from face-planting onto what turns out to be the most expensive desk I've ever had the misfortune of nearly vomiting on.
"Welcome. It's about time."
