Page 7 of The Hive

Chapter Seven

Saphyra

I heard the cafeteria before I saw it. The clang of feet on metal preceded our silent group as the other students who shared my dinner hour filed into the large room. Many of the pre-emergent alpha and omega prospects had the same meal schedule that I did, including Zillarah. I could see her silver hair flipping from all the way across the dining hall.

She put on a good show, but in unguarded moments, I saw the haunted way her eyes drifted to Headmaster Vestris. He’d always favored her and often disciplined her himself. Zillarah’s bratty behavior drew attention to her, but it seemed like a defense mechanism to me. The more people looking at her, the less chance the keepers or the headmaster could get her alone and unwatched.

Her decoys were at ease, sitting close to her, their hands running up and down her arms, food forgotten as they nuzzled her neck. She shrieked as one lifted her onto his lap and started to feed her from his fingers. They were gentle and sweet with her, and she was happier than I had seen her in a long time. She might have been a brat, but everyone deserved some happiness.

Even though we’d hurried, many of the tables were packed, and the others were filling up quickly. The concern must have been apparent in my eyes because Ghost motioned to Shadow, who left my side to secure a comfortable table. I noticed he selected a seat toward the back wall, where he could watch the entrance and exit points. Alphas were trained for that while in the academy, but some clearly took it more seriously than others.

Ghost and I had no trouble picking up rations for all of us, but the fresh offerings were in short supply. They gave me a portion of a crinkly green leaf—kale, if I was not mistaken—held aside for the omega prospect’s dinners, but no such luck for the decoys. There was a benefit of having him along while getting dinner, though. The jostling that often happened in the dining hall was conspicuously absent.

When we got to the table, I was surprised when Shadow stood and pulled out a chair for me and tucked me into my seat, never saying a word.

I sat and picked at my food. From my vantage, I had a decent view of Zillarah and her decoys’ antics. Even if I didn’t, I would have been able to hear them. One of her decoys had snuck a hand up her skirt, causing her to squirm. Her shrieks and giggles carried through the room as they cavorted. It certainly looked like her soldiers were making the most of their assignment.

My alphas both saw me watching, but made no move to touch me. I wondered why. Maybe I wasn’t pretty enough, or maybe my pheromones weren’t strong enough yet. Whatever the reason, I was grateful for the space. But as much as I wished I could deny it, jealousy crept in over the attention Zillarah was getting.

Their respectful distance didn’t fit with what I knew about decoys. This was likely their only chance to be with a coveted omega. Their goal was to tip a pre-emergent omega prospect over the edge and into her first heat. Touching, and even sex, was usually encouraged. The impersonal space between us wouldn’t help that cause. Not at all.

Zillarah had assets that I didn’t, gorgeous sheets of sleek, silvery white hair and lithe frame, but I was still an omega, probably. Even if I didn’t emerge, I was female. With little access to women while deployed, I’d have thought they’d be more enthusiastic. Needless to say, my pride was bruised.

I should have been happy. What was I thinking? I wanted the option to choose my fate, and be free of the scrutiny and lecherous eyes on the Hive. Their lack of physical interest would only help that goal. Maybe Grey was right, and I was close to my emergence. My instincts were starting to show.

I picked at my rations, a nutrient bar and the bitter green vegetables, while trying to ignore the escalating commotion coming from Zillarah’s corner, but when a loud moan pierced the din, I looked up from my plate. One of her decoys had her bent over the dining table and his cock buried in her weeping pussy. He thrust into her and the wet slapping noises punctuated her ever-increasing moans. That was, until her other decoy shoved his dick between her parted lips, silencing her. I couldn’t drag my eyes away. Something low in my belly coiled at the sight and my whole body warmed.

The display riveted me, and feelings I had never experienced seeped through my skin. Desire and need filled me and I rubbed my thighs together to relieve the ache growing between them. I wanted my alphas’ hands on me, soothing away the heat and yearning, but when I looked, they were calmly surveying the room as if looking for potential threats.

I swallowed hard, trying to get a hold of myself. I reminded myself this was not what I wanted. At least it hadn’t been, until now. That was a lie, though. Thoughts of my handlers’ warm gray eyes reminded me that I had felt a sliver of this longing before. When he touched me gently or smiled in a certain way. I knew he would never want me the way I wanted him. He could have taken advantage of his position, like so many others did, but he wouldn’t. And that’s probably why I wished he would.

The sound of running boots sliced through my fantasies as a group of black-clad beta soldiers entered with Zillarah’s nurse and handler. Motioning students back with charged metal batons, the guards fanned out, circling the table. I’d seen this before. Guards from the brood chamber arrived when an omega prospect emerged in a public setting. They were there to ensure Zillarah’s safety as much as everyone else’s. If one of the young alpha prospects lost control, things could go bad quickly.

Her alphas snarled at the proximity of the other males, not liking their closeness. But Zillarah’s female nurse was able to approach the trio, who had barely paused their activities. She said something to the emerging omega that caused them all to pause. I couldn’t see around the wall of beta guards, but there was a shuffle, and then the decoys carried a mewling Zillarah out of the cafeteria at a fast clip.

I could smell the rising omega pheromones oozing off of her as they rushed past. It smelled like wilting flowers and turned my stomach. The alpha prospects in the dining hall shuffled with unease. I could see their white-knuckled grips wrapped around the edges of tables. On the other hand, my decoys were perfectly in control of themselves. Ghost wrinkled his nose as if he found the scent as unpleasant as I did. Shadow showed no sign of a reaction, but the shifting of his eyes said he was very aware of what was going on.

“I think I’m done eating,” I mumbled and pushed away from the table to stand. My decoys didn’t complain as they followed me dutifully back to our new cell.

The stench of emerging omega clung to me the entire trip. The longer I stewed in it, the worse it got. Before I even sat down, nausea rolled over me. I rushed into the bathing room, flung the door closed, and retched over the toilet. My eyes stung and streamed tears as I blindly pawed at the shower controls while simultaneously ripping at my clothes.

Too overwhelmed to answer, I ignored the tap on the door. Ghost entered in his usual silent way and pressed the panel to start the shower. Clean, heavy steam muffled the perfumed air, clearing my muddled head. It was some comfort, but I still felt drained.

“It’s ok. This is a perfectly normal reaction when you are nearing your first heat. You are sensitive to everything around you, especially scents,” Ghost said as his gentle fingers found the buttons at my throat and started to undress me with care.

I pushed his hands away. “I don’t want you to smell like her,” I said, but it came out like a croak, my throat still raw from retching. It was a ridiculous concern. He already smelled as much like her as I did, but I wasn’t in a rational state of mind.

“I’ll wash after, to make sure.” He smirked, probably at the absurdity of my request, but he was considerate and careful as he gently removed my shirt. Beyond him, I saw Shadow, a silent guardian in the doorway. As soon as my skin was bared, he averted his eyes but didn’t move from his position of vigilance.

Ghost finished undressing me. It was almost clinical, but the heat in his gaze told a different story as my soft curves were slowly revealed. He nudged me into the steady fall of warm water and picked up my clothes, dropping them into a laundry chute where all the residents’ clothing went to be sterilized.

As promised, he washed his hands and forearms thoroughly with a plain white lump of soap that I recognized. It was what the beta handlers used to eliminate odors from their skin. That explained why my decoys had no scent, but not why they would do it. Their pheromones would cause me to emerge, which was their assignment. Progress would be slowed without it.

He didn’t look at me any more than necessary, only to make sure I wasn’t about to fall down or throw up again. Confident that I was steady, he let himself out of the bathing room and shut the door. I sagged against the wall, feeling exhausted and overly sensitive everywhere.

Zillarah’s emergence had affected me more than I expected. Maybe I was closer to my own than I thought, which scared me. I had a healthy skepticism regarding what happened to students once they graduated from training. They sent the soldiers to war to keep us safe, omegas went to the brood chamber to be pampered, and betas moved to the planet to work.

But what if we were wrong?

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