Page 26 of The Omega Trials: Part Two

Ugly > Bitch

Sinclair

“Ithink getting these was the best decision I’ve ever made,” I say and kick off the dock to make my chocolate-doughnut-inspired inner tube spin. The lake water under me is cool and refreshing, while the sunshine warms my limbs and face.

I’ve never cherished the subtle touch of the sun like I do now. After my time at the Doll House, each warm breeze and streak of soft light carries a beauty it didn’t before.

Lively color has returned to my skin after months in that dark, dank place. I even saw a few faint freckles dusting my cheekbones in the mirror this morning.

A fate worse than death is starting to feel more like a breath of new life.

“Were you still at the brotherhood night when everything happened with the Cobalt omega?” Paisley asks, floating on a blow up raft that looks like a slice of key lime pie, her light-brown skin glowing even warmer under the sun.

“No, I don’t think so. What happened?”

“One of their Elders touched her and had an alpha aversion, and because he’s an old fart”—she huffs with clear disgust—“it was like he had a goddamn heart attack. Fell on the floor wheezing, clutching his chest, the whole bit.”

“Did he not know she was bonded?” I ask, and my fingers automatically go to my own claiming bites, tracing the slightly raised, scarred skin.

“No, hedid,”she adds dramatically, “but apparently, it’s their family’s tradition to give blanket permission to all Cobalt Elders.” I make a grossed out face and she nods. “It gets worse though. Once he was done getting fussed over, he demanded she apologize for disrespecting him.”

“She?” I balk. “Why was it her fault?”

“Because isn’t it always the omega’s fault?” she says cynically, and I wonder if behind closed doors, Paisley and her alphas aren’t the happy, fated mates they seem to be. She trails her fingertips through the water wistfully and continues, “It was awful. You could tell her mate didnotwant to give permission, but by then, the entire brotherhood was watching.”

“So he gave it,” I finish. It’s not even a question. It’s just the way things are in this world.

“Yeah, I grabbed my boys once the Elder told her to make it up to him on her knees. We left. We weren’t going to watch that.” There’s rust in Paisley’s usually polished voice. My own stomach churns.

I recall my first days here when the Cyan Elder demanded I be punished for my own show of disrespect. The humiliation I felt was ten times worse than the slap of Titus’s palm. But a slap, I can take. It’s a split second of embarrassment, and at least I could stand proud in how I took it with a brave face.

But to get on my knees for some old man in front of everyone?

It wasn’t even her own actions that got her there.

A fate worse than death . . .

Could that still be true? Maybe here in this place, the warmth of the sun is just disguising the heat of hell.

“Ladiesss,” an obnoxiously saccharine voice sing-songs.

“Oh god, what does she want?” Paisley grumbles as we both sit up in our floats to see Merigold flitting over to us in a cotton-candy-pink skirt.

The heels of her stilettos sink into the grass as she works her way over to us. She exhales dramatically when she reaches the dock. “Whew, these arenotthe shoes for this.” Her ensuing fake laugh is cloying.

“How can we help you, Merigold?” Paisley seems to have no patience for the Cyan omega’s usual antics today.

Her shoes clack on the wooden dock as she walks to the edge where we’re floating. “A bunch of us are going into town for manis and pedis and wanted to see if you two are interested in coming.”

The friendly invitation immediately sets off alarm bells in my head.

“Who isus?” I ask.

“The other Trial omegas—poor Angel has been in such a mood since the brotherhood night.”

I assume Angel is the Cobalt omega and subtly look to Paisley, who confirms with a small nod.

“Well, anyway.” Merigold flaps her hand. “We’re leaving in ten if you’re coming.”

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