Page 2 of Happy Valentine's Day, Omega
Even if I were interested in finding a mate, which I’m not, the fact of the matter is, Alpha Novikov and I aren’t compatible.
He’s dominant, even more so than the average Alpha, and he’s extremely particular about everything.
And me?
I’m an Omega who doesn’t fit The Omega Academy mold.
I’m competitive to a fault and never one to back down from a fight.
I’m messy, unwilling to preen over my appearance when I could focus on more important things, like working out how to beat the pompous asshat sitting in front of me with a smug smirk.
I hastily swipe my things off the table and into my bag. “Nothing for you to worry yourself about, Novikov.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he says, his nostrils flaring. “Something is bothering you.”
I straighten my spine, responding to his firm tone.
My ire rises.
I’m quick to anger, my temper flaring hot and burning bright. A family trait the academy still thinks they can fix.
If they make me an obedient little Omega, they can petition me off to Alphas and earn back their investment in my education. The more docile and accomplished the Omega, the more Alphas will pay for the opportunity to court an unmated Omega.
At twenty-three years old, I’m two years overdue to begin courting.
My teachers are concerned my ‘attitude problems’ will reflect poorly on the academy, and refuse to announce my availability for courtship.
Fine by me.
Once I receive my invitation to the professional tournament, I’ll have my dreams to pursue, and I can’t have a possessive Alpha holding me back.
Alpha Novikov, with his tightly calculated and controlling personality, would smother me.
“It’s none of your business,” I say through gritted teeth.
The Beta handler assigned to keep me safe from unmated Alphas is watching and will report my bad behavior to the headmistress.
I can’t withstand yet another lecture on Omega decorum from the old lady, so I keep the worst of my attitude to myself.
Alpha Novikov cocks his head to the side, giving me a clear view of his chiseled jawline. My gut clenches approvingly.
Stupid sexy Alpha.
“It’s an Alpha’s duty to care for an Omega’s mental wellbeing.”
I stiffen and clench my fists tighter in my skirt.
Why would he say something like that? He sounds almost possessive.
I sniff and look down my nose at him. “Good thing you’re not my Alpha.”
His eyebrows furrow and his jaw tightens.
The thought of Alpha Magnus Novikov being my Alpha makes me want to run and hide. We’d end up killing each other. Everything would become a competition. I’d drive him insane.
“I look forward to our next match,” he eventually says in a measured tone. “I suggest you study The Sicilian Attack.”
I grit my teeth to stop myself from snapping back something snarky. He makes a good point, though. I need to develop my aggressive openings.
