Page 45 of Broken Omega

I get my purse and take my phone back out of it, going back through the photos.

I smiled more when I was younger, but there isn’t that much of a difference between me at eighteen and me now. At least, if there is, I don’t see it. Everyone else clearly does.

Especially the Alphas. They don’t look at me like they used to.

My Beta boyfriend in high school was kind of sweet, I guess, but I only said yes to dating him when his friend became Zelena’s boyfriend, and I realized it would make it easier to keep hanging out together. I wasn’t attracted to him, really, but I did at least like him.

I’d choose someone like him over the Alphas that come here any day of the week.

There’s no way my father would allow that, of course. This whole thing about marrying me off to an Alpha is for the express purpose of giving him grandchildren with Alpha and Omega blood.

I might not have Alpha and Omega children if I don’t marry an Alpha, and that would be the worst thing I could do to my father. He’d probably murder me and go back to the academy to find another Omega to marry and give him multiple kids like he’d wanted in the first place.

There’s a knock on my suite door while I’m scrolling through prom photos.

I look up at the open bedroom door, startled out of my thoughts by the intrusion.

I didn’t order dinner tonight. I knew my nerves would make it impossible to eat.

I picture Lana for a moment, but I know she’d never come to my door.

For a second, I picture my father, and I get shivers.

No. He wouldn’t come out here.That would be way too much effort.

Then again, he’s been very persistent about this whole finding a mate to marry thing.

Oh, God. I really hope it’s not my dad.

Taking a calming breath, I force my feet to move.

I head out of the bedroom, into the main room, and then there’s another hard, sharp knock.

My shoulders shake and I drop my phone, which I didn’t even realize I was still carrying.

I step over it to get to the door, ignoring the urge to pick it back up.

My hands are trembling lightly. I’d only drop it all over again.

I stand in front of the door, catching my breath.

I’m almost afraid to look through the peephole.

It’s probably just one of the kitchen staff bringing someone else’s food to the wrong suite.

That thought calms me enough to let me check the peephole.

When I see who’s standing there, I let out a relieved sigh, and I unlock and open the door quickly, not wanting to keep the head administrator of Goldcrest waiting.

Geraldine Sawyer stands in the hallway, looking like her face lost a fight with the floor.

My gaze is quickly drawn to the bruising around her eyes and nose, as I examine the color and swelling, logging the details in my thoughts for later. I know a photo is out of the question. Geraldine has no idea about my little SFX hobby, and I don’t think she’d be too pleased if she knew I was going to use her injury as a reference point for future bruise work.

Come back to the present, Brooke. She’s pissed, and she knocked on your door for a reason.

She’s wearing a tight smile, which tells me she’s angrier than her bruises look.

I heard Secret broke her nose. The news of what happened spread like wildfire through the academy on Tuesday afternoon, which was apparently immediately after the new girl introduced her fist to Geraldine’s face, with good reason as far as the rest of the rumors go.

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