Page 92 of Vicious Kings
"At least you don't have to deal with?—"
"Billie."
The voice cuts through the classroom chatter and I freeze. I turn to find Isabella standing in the doorway, flanked by her usual posse of perfectly coiffed nightmares. Her emerald dress catches the light, making her look like some kind of avenging angel.
If angels were petty and vindictive and really, really good at destroying people with a smile.
Olivia goes pale and grips my arm, her pointy little pink nails digging into my flesh. "We should go."
But I'm tired. Tired of running, tired of backing down, tired of playing nice with people who'd happily see me gutted for looking at them wrong.
"Go ahead," I tell her. "I'll catch up."
"Billie—"
"Go."
She hesitates, clearly torn between self-preservation and whatever weird roommate loyalty we've developed. Then she squares her shoulders, surprising the hell out of me by not immediately fleeing like I expected.
Maybe Princess Pink has a spine after all.
Isabella glides into the classroom with her crew trailing behind like particularly vicious ducklings. The other omegas scatter, suddenly finding urgent reasons to be elsewhere. Even Madame Silvaine seems to remember she has somewhere else to be, disappearing through a side door with remarkable speed.
Cowards.
"I thought I made myself clear," Isabella says, her voice soft as silk over a rusty spike. "About what happens to people who try to touch my things."
I cross my arms, forcing myself to stand my ground even though every omega instinct in my body is screaming at me to avoid confrontation. I fucking hate that even more than the slick and the heat combined. "I wasn't aware I'd done that."
"Don't play stupid." She stops directly in front of me, close enough that I can smell her perfume. "You got yourself transferred into Prince Corvinus's classes."
Oh, for fuck's sake.
"That's desperate," one of her crew adds, a blonde whose dress has so much lace it's genuinely a fire hazard. "And pathetic."
"Here I thought hunters might at least have a sense of self-preservation," Isabella says, tilting her head like she's examining a disappointing science project.
The rage that floods through me is so intense I can fuckingtasteit. This is Corvinus's fault. All of this. If he'd just left my schedule alone, if he'd just accepted my rejection like a normal person instead of stalking me, I wouldn't be standing here getting lectured by the omega mafia.
"Iwasn't the one who asked for the transfer," I grit out, proud of how level my voice sounds. "If you have a problem with it, take it up with Corvinus."
Isabella's laugh is piercing. "You expect me to believe the prince changed your entire schedule without your input? Thatyou didn't bat your eyelashes and play the helpless omega until he gave you exactly what you wanted?"
"Believe whatever you want." I start to move past her, done with this conversation. "I have class."
Her hand shoots out, faster than I expected, and shoves me backward.
Hard.
I stumble, catching myself on the edge of a desk before I can fall. The other omegas close in like sharks scenting blood.
"You don't get to walk away from me," Isabella says, and there's ice in her voice now. The kind that could freeze you from the inside out. "Not when you're making a fool of yourself and embarrassing every omega at this university in the process."
"How the fuck am I embarrassing anyone?" I push off the desk, ready to fight if that's what she wants.
"By throwing yourself at a prince who's already spoken for!" One of her crew, a brunette whose collar is heavy enough with diamonds I bet she has back pain, steps forward. "Everyone knows the Triad will choose Isabella. You're just making yourself look desperate."
"I'm not throwing myself at anyone," I say through gritted teeth. "Corvinus is the one who won't fuck off."
