Page 25 of Unlikely Omega

“Did you hear me? She can’t be your assistant.”

“Why, so you can slap her around whenever you feel like it? Well, listen: I’m not letting her go back to you, Most Reverend.”

“Is that so?”

I glare at some point in space where I’m guessing his face to be. “I have claimed her. It’s done.”

“Careful there, novice. It almost sounds like a different kind of claim.”

“I don’t care what it sounds like. I’m following the laws of the Temple and you have no right to intimidate me.” I fist my hands at my sides. “Where is she? Have you hurt her?”

He laughs, a sound like cracking branches. “Is that what you think? Why you’re so frantic to find her?”

Cursing to myself, I step around him and go on searching. No steps follow me.

The only place left is the convent but acolytes aren’t to be found there unless it’s late night and they’re tucked in their beds. But it’s the last place I can think of, and as I enter the convent, something tells me this is the right place.

It’s not just a gut feeling.

I swear I smell her as I step into the dimly lit wing.

She has been here. I can recognize her scent. And gods above, she smells so sweet, it makes me groan low in my throat. It’s as if it spreads through me, a liquid fire burning through my veins. It draws me to a specific door, and without hesitation, I grab the handle and open it.

And there she is. As my heart thunders, my panic still shaking me, I make out her small form curled up on a bed, outlined in bright light, surrounded by what must be a pile of pillows.

She’s fine. See, self? She’s just fine. Feeling ridiculous yet for this womanhunt you’ve unleashed?

Yeah. No, I’m not feeling anything but relieved, to be honest. Her small, heart-shaped face glows in my senses and something in me relaxes.

What is it about this woman that has me up in knots?

And why can’t I fight it?

8

ARIADNE

“Ari! What in Atla’s holy name did you do?”

“What?” Startled out of a warm, fuzzy dream, I turn my head on the pillow and blink at Ismere. “What is it?”

“Why did you steal my pillow?”

I rub a hand over my eyes. “Did I? Why would I?”

“I don’t know! How should I know?”

“Oh Goddess.” I sit up, groggy and disoriented. “What’s going on? Where is everyone?”

“It’s not even bedtime yet.” Glaring, Ismere comes to tug away the pillow I had been resting my head on. “Why are you in bed already? Are you sick?”

“No, I’m…”

…so tired. And so jittery it exhausts me. The back of my neck is burning. I want to pile up pillows and throws and blankets and just… hide inside. Make a pillow fort. A pillow house. Like a bird, I want to build a nest and wiggle inside, safe from harm, hidden from the world.

“Well, don’t take my pillow again. You had no right.”

“I’m sorry, Isme. I honestly can’t remember taking it.”

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