Page 5 of The Hive

“Yes, instructor,” I said, a wave of anxiety racing through my body. I knew what that meant. Zillarah had been bragging about her big, fancy accommodations and her new roommates since she’d been moved out of the girls’ dorm and into the private decoy cell. The amenities sounded nice, but the company, less so.

I preferred the idea of a surface allocation, doing mundane tasks with Lyrah, rather than forced proximity to alphas. Even if omegas were treated like royalty once they emerged, living in halls of gold, eating honey and fruit all day, the classification came with a lot of attention I didn’t want. More staff to watch my every move, daily physical examinations, the leering eyes of the headmaster. My experiences with the male betas had not been good before I was assigned to Greylan. If betas were that bad, I could only imagine what a full-grown alpha would be like.

As much as I wished to be a beta, my blood work said I was not. Maybe I wouldn’t emerge, much like Lyrah. Then I could go to the surface as well. I’d be free of the ever-watchful eyes of the keepers and able to do what I wished without being disciplined. It might not be as glamorous as the brood chamber, but betas had a freedom that I never would.

I hurried into the locker rooms, where I showered and changed into my uniform before heading to my newly assigned sleeping quarters. My thoughts raced a million light-years a minute as my footsteps echoed through the halls. Security cameras tracked me like tiny eyes spaced intermittently throughout the corridors, ensuring I did as I was told. The fear of discipline had been beaten into me a long time ago. No matter how much I would prefer to avoid the inevitable meeting—which would be completely awkward and uncomfortable—it wasn’t worth the risk.

The walk to the decoy cells was long, all the way past the gendered dorms. It felt like an eternity of brushing past students headed to and from their quarters. But eventually, I made it to the quarters I had been assigned. The airlock to my new cabin hissed as it opened, and I stepped into the dimly lit room.

It was empty. Air whooshed from my lungs in relief. At least I could avoid meeting my roommates a little while longer.

The hexagonal cabin was clad in dark metal like most of the rest of the complex, but instead of the egg-shaped sleeping pod used in the girls’ dormitories, there was a massive raised platform enclosed in drapery and covered with mounds of bedding and pillows, including the blankets from my pod. It was like a real omega nest.

A grumble rolled in my throat as I approached the piled linens. I didn’t want people touching my things, especially my pod things. When I told my handler about that a few months ago, he grinned with smug satisfaction. It backed up the blood work and gave the impression that I was likely to emerge as an omega, and soon. Ever since I had mentioned it, my things had been handled more carefully. Being an omega prospect had some perks. I couldn’t deny that.

As I approached the plush platform, I sniffed and smelled nothing but my familiar honey-drenched sunshine. No sign of my blankets being tampered with or touched. They must have accounted for my rising territorial nature and taken precautions not to scent the material. I was grateful for that consideration. The heightened sense of smell was an inconvenient omega attribute my handler was very pleased about.

Ignoring unpleasant thoughts of roommates, I examined the piles of comfortable fabrics and fur. The plush, silky thickness enticed me to crawl in and roll around, blending my blankets, thick with my scent, with the fresh, clean linens. Everything was so soft, like a fluffy heaven. I burrowed deeper and shifted the silks and furs until I felt perfectly cocooned.

The whoosh of the door sliding open startled me from my brief snuggle interlude. I was so distracted with fluffing and arranging my new nesting materials that for a blissful moment I had forgotten the whole point of being here. Wiggling through the thick blankets, I peeked out from under the folds to investigate the noise. Grey stood in the doorway, his face lit by the soft, mellow light of the room. When he saw me, the corner of his lips kicked up in a half smile and he walked in. Behind him loomed two shadowed silhouettes of large males standing at attention, still as statues.

“Come out, Saphyra,” he said, chuckling to himself.

I huffed, squirmed free of my tangled sheets, and shoved the riot of honey gold hair out of my face. It was like a rat’s nest on top of my head after my recent exploration, but I had no interest in impressing anyone here. Well, maybe Grey, a little. I smoothed my hair down, hoping I didn’t look like the mess I felt. “Hello, Greylan 10225.”

He cleared his throat, seeming nervous. “Saphyra.”

I gave him my most winning smile and crawled off the raised platform, straightening my uniform.

“I brought your decoys. This is Soldier 6612 and Soldier 5376.” Alphas never had names, only numbers, which made them hard to keep track of. I decided I would give them names, just between us. Otherwise, I would never remember what to call them.

I looked them over, assessing their qualities. 6612 was longer and leaner than 5376, with light hair that gleamed silvery white and blue-gray eyes that reminded me of a long-forgotten sea. He was ethereally beautiful and moved like smoke. His steps were soundless on the bare metal under his feet as he stalked into the room. I knew immediately what to call him. I would call him Ghost.

5376 was the exact opposite of Ghost with sooty black hair, dark eyes like the endless space between the stars, and broad shoulders thick with muscle. I couldn’t help the shiver that raced down my spine. His brows were pulled down as if troubled by some painful memory, a perfect companion for a soldier named Ghost. This darkly haunted man would be called Shadow. That fit him for now.

Unsure of the protocol for this sort of meeting, I looked at my handler for guidance. Next to the massive alphas, he looked small, even though I knew he wasn’t. Amusement at my discomfort danced in his gray eyes. “Aren’t you going to say hello, Saphyra?”

“Hello, Soldier 6612. Hello, Soldier 5376. I am Omega Prospect 1571, but my gifted name is Saphyra,” I dutifully said, shuffling my feet, again reminded of the injustice that soldiers didn’t get names. The Imperatrix treated them as disposable, even more so than the rest of us. Only Altairan staff, the omegas, and omega prospects got any sort of special treatment. It was stupid and unfair.

Shadow, 5376, grunted out a reply and moved further into the room. He skirted the wall as if he would rather keep his distance, which suited me just fine. If anyone but Greylan had brought the soldiers here, I might have been suspicious watching Shadow’s cagey movements. But Grey seemed at ease with them, so I took that as a good sign. If they had been sent as spies, or had some other nefarious agenda, he wouldn’t be so relaxed.

Ghost, 6612, grinned and walked toward me with no hesitation. To my great surprise and humiliation, he dropped to a knee and brought my knuckles to his lips for a chaste kiss. “You are more beautiful than I ever imagined.”

I slid my fingers from his grasp and stepped back, bumping into the edge of the nest, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“I’m flattered, thank you.” I looked to Grey again, desperate for direction, but all he did was grin and shrug. With no help from my handler, I went on. “Maybe get up, though? I’m sure you are both looking forward to getting settled in, and 10225 would be happy to take you to your accommodation.” I hoped that, by some fluke, I would be the exception and not have to share my room with the strange alphas. Deep down, I realized that hope was futile, but it was worth the attempt.

The three men shared a look, and Grey stepped in closer as Ghost joined Shadow near the wall. “Saphyra, decoys stay with their omega prospect. In their quarters. That’s why they are allotted a larger cabin,” he said, motioning to the space.

My brow scrunched. I knew that already, but I wanted to be wrong. There was one more pressing concern, and I was afraid I knew the answer to that as well. “Where are they supposed to sleep, then? There is only the nest,” I said, pointing to the single, large dish-shaped platform.

Grey sighed and ran his fingers through his ruffled brown hair. “In your nest, with you. I thought you understood and that your nurse would have explained. I’m sorry that I didn’t cover it in more detail.”

My nurse had explained, but I wasn’t going to interrupt him. The longer he talked, the longer I didn’t have to be alone in a room with a pair of strangers.

“The presence of alphas, and their pheromones, are to induce the emergence of your classification. The Imperatrix is getting impatient, and a few omega prospects are past due. She is not pleased with the lack of progress. They will stay with you until you emerge, or until she runs out of patience. If that happens, she may order for hormone treatments despite the fertility risks.” He looked uncomfortable while he explained the situation in plain terms.

Raised as an omega prospect, I had been taught this already. I had hoped the keepers would wait or that I could get out of it somehow. What I really hoped was that they would give up on my emergence entirely and assign me to the surface as a beta. Obviously not.

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