Page 43 of The Monster at the End of This Molt

Like me, the other kids had gone to Earth for their post-secondary education and returned disillusioned and angry.

"Their ways are not better!" a client shouted at the end of a grueling session. "If I meet my fated mate at the dragon reunion, he'd better agree!"

He immediately clapped his hands to his mouth and then held them up in supplication. "I mean … he?—"

"When you meet your fated mate, you'll find a way to work together to raise your children the way you both want."

He sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of. My dad is a traditional omega, and he raised me to be a traditional omega."

"That's your homework for next time," I said. "What does it mean to be a traditional omega?"

He frowned. "Well, it means …"

"Make a list, and we'll discuss it next time."

Inspiration struck, and a beautiful smile spread across his face. "Thank you! I'll bring you that list."

"See you next week!" I called after him, but he was already halfway down the hall.

I read over the notes my magical dictation system had taken and added a few of my own while it was still fresh in my mind. Then, I jotted a quick note for the next homework assignment. Once he had a list of what a traditional omega should be, I wanted him to dissect it and tell me how each trait made him feel.

A quick knock on the door was all the warning I had before it opened and Weld slipped inside. He shut the door, plastered himself against the wall, and turned off the overhead light.

"What are you doing?"

He hissed at me. "Keep your voice down! He'll hear you."

"Oh Weld!" A familiar high and clear voice echoed in the long hall outside my door.

"Why are you hiding from Tuft?"

"He wants us to play volleyball! Won't take no for an answer!"

I stifled a laugh at the look of anguish on his face. "I fucking love volleyball."

"Traitor!"

The door swung open. Tuft didn't bother with the light. He used his phone as a flashlight, though it illuminated his bright gold highlights and white teeth more than anything else. "It's adult league night at the ballpark! Are you up for some volleyball?"

"I'm in," I said. "My mate …"

Weld flipped the light back on and sank against the wall. "Fine. I'll play. But don't expect me to be any good. I haven't played volleyball since high school gym."

"You're on my team," Tuft said. "You don't have to be good. All you have to do is stay out of my way."

He flashed another smile at us and sauntered back out, leaving the door open.

"What the fuck does he mean?"

"His intramural team won last year's tournament."

"He and Axel, and four other people, won a tournament?"

I nodded. "Is that so hard to believe?"

Weld's lips curved into a wistful grin. "Not at all. I'll be proud to be on his team."

"I'm pretty sure he already has six people, so we'll be alternates."

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