Page 87 of Broken Omega

I shrug off the butterflies. I’m making connections that don’t exist and I need to stop.

“Do you know him?” she asks.

I shake my head slowly. “I met a bunch of Alphas when I was younger. I guess he must have been one of them.”

It’s a lie, but the truth is too weird, so I stick with it.

“Well, I’m cancelling this week’s social,” she goes on, capturing my full attention.

“What?” I ask, unable to keep the shock out of my voice.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m replacing it with a smaller event. Something more intimate for you and the Omegas who’ve been avoiding the parties. I’ll be inviting new Alphas, and it will be a formal, sit-down dinner instead of a party.”

My initial panic dies down quickly. A sit-down dinner. That could work out better for my plan. It was going to be difficult to find a convincing way to injure myself in a way that would require medical attention. I was planning to tamper with one of the hot water taps in the ladies’ room, for lack of a better option.

A dinner setting could make getting injured in front of everyone a little easier.

“It will of course be compulsory attendance for all invited parties,” Edith adds.

“Even the Alphas?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.

She smiles. “Especially for the Alphas. If they don’t take this opportunity when they’re given it, they won’t be offered another.”

Well, one thing’s for sure. Edith Merritt means business. I’m sure my father would approve of her attitude, if not the way she’s decided to go about running the academy.

“Seems fair,” I tell her. “Can I be excused, or do you need me for anything more?”

Her eyes narrow just slightly before her smile deepens.

“Of course. You’ll be sent an invitation with the full details for Friday night.”

“I look forward to it.”

KELLAN

The card that appears in my mail slot looks a lot like a wedding invitation. A crisp, white envelope with golden detailing and my name and address written on it in precise, thick, black lettering, apparently came hand-delivered by a limo driver, if my wide-eyed neighbor is to be believed.

The teenager lives with his mom on the floor above mine and he’s always playing handheld video games on the staircase before and after school. This afternoon, his headphones are hanging around his neck, and his videogame is in his hoodie pocket.

“I think that’s from the Omega academy,” he says, his tone hushed.

“What?” I ask, laughing because I can’t not.

How does this Beta teenager know anything about the academy?

He nods, his gaze solemn. “Did you know someone who works there?”

My thoughts go to Lana. “Well, yeah, I kind of do, actually. Why?”

“Didn’t you watch the news over the weekend?” He takes his console out of his pocket.

“The news?” I ask, wondering what he’s talking about.

Lana had asked me to give it a few days before we started to come up with a plan to rescue Brooke.

That was on me, I think. I hadn’t exactly shown her my best side. She wanted to make sure I wasn’t about to rush out and do something dumb. Well, something else dumb, that might screw up any plans we made later.

“Here,” the kid says, pushing a screen in front of me with an online newspaper article showing on it.

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