Page 37 of The Omega Trials: Part One

“Exactly, so instead of a small shock or muscle cramp, when a noble alpha touches a bonded noble omega, it causes full-body, crippling pain. I’ve heard it explained like being set on fire or dumped in a vat of acid.”

This time, I can’t help but laugh. “That sounds a bit dramatic.”

Paisley sweeps her hair to one side and begins braiding it idly. “Does it? You know how intense heats can be—it’s that same intensity but in favor of pain instead of pleasure.”

My brows rise, and I admit, “I guess that does make sense. I wonder if there’s a drug out there that mimics that effect without having to bond—you know, like Lust Dust is for bond lust?”

“You really don’t get along with your alphas, do you?” she teases, wrapping an elastic around the end of the now-finished braid.

“That’s an understatement.” I laugh.

“Paisley, hi!” We look up and an omega I recognize from the dining hall waves as she strolls over to us. Her high blonde ponytail swishes dramatically as she walks with an annoying pep in her step. The alpha who shouted about bringing me to heel has his arm wrapped around her shoulders and an arrogant as fuck smirk on his face.

They pause a few yards away from us and the omega wrinkles her nose. “You really should be careful who you associate with, Paize.” My jaw drops and Paisley cocks her head at her gall. “And I say that as a friend. I’m just looking out for you.” Her smile is grotesque.

Paisley crosses her arms. “We haven’t been friends since the third grade, Merigold.”

“Oh, Paize.” Merigold laughs like a witch and waves her hand. “You’ve always been such a jokester.”

“What my omega is too polite to say is . . .” The alpha’s eyes are devious as he looks right at me and says, “If you sleep with dogs, you get fleas.”

“Oh, fuck off.” I roll my eyes, seeing these idiots for what they are: snivelly nosed, little bitches.

He drops his arm from around his omega and snarls, “Don’t bark at me, bitch.”

Paisley flinches, but I just relax against the trunk, unimpressed. “A for effort, but B for reusing boring dog analogies.”

His eyes narrow into angry slits. “You’re an embarrassment to the Echelon.”

“I’d rather be an embarrassment than an uncreative asshole.”

“Ugh, let’s go, Yves.” Merigold tugs his arm with a huff. “I’m getting a headache just looking at her.”

“Now that’s a good insult. Take notes, Yves,” I call after them.

Once running away was ruled out as an option for escape, I decided my next best bet would be to make sure the Ceruleans lose the Trials. In theory, if they’re sent home, I’m sent home. But now, seeing these are the idiots they will be competing against, it seems like it might be a harder task than expected.

They disappear around a corner and Paisley stands up and flattens her skirt. “Anyway, have you seen the garden?”

The flower garden is full of blue and purple blooms. A six-foot-tall hedge creates walls on all four sides. There’s a single arched opening to come and go like a doorway to this open-air room.

Each corner boasts a marble pedestal in the likeness of Grecian columns. On top is a giant version of each family’s animal mask. In the center of the square is the fifth, the Azurites’golden stag shining in the sun. Every column is surrounded by a different flower.

I follow Paisley to one corner where the ground is covered with small bluish periwinkle flowers.

“Forget-me-nots,” I say, realizing they match the carvings on her collarbones.

“Yep, though I always thought it was a little on the nose.” She nods to the elephant-shaped mask on display.

Curious, I look around for a flower that matches the one on my chest. I find it in the far-right corner. The mask on this pedestal looks like it would cover the bottom half of one’s face rather than the eyes. It makes it a little harder to tell which animal the sharp teeth and scrunched nose is supposed to be.

“Is that a bear?” I guess.

“Mm-hmm, the Cerulean bear—oh, don’t touch that!” she calls as I reach out for one of the towers of pale blue flowers. “Delphinium—or larkspur—is toxic. Just touching it can give you a nasty rash.” She looks at me and tilts her head in assessment. “It seems fitting. I know I just met you, but it feels right. Beautiful but deadly.”

A smile pulls at the corner of my mouth. We look at each other conspiratorially. “You know, I was just thinking the same thing.”

Balancing the Scales

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