Page 2 of Knot What She Seems
The gray sky is painted with streaks of pink and green from the setting sun, giving it a metallic look. Just enough sunlight penetrates the canopy of clouds to illuminate the campus.
I have to give Darling Academy credit. It’s gorgeous. With manicured lawns, perfectly trimmed hedges, and a huge fountain in the very center of the yard, I feel as if I’m stepping into fairy-tale land. The academy itself resembles a castle with turrets, gables, and even a ceremonial drawbridge, though there’s no moat to go with it. The drawbridge is lowered only when omegas graduate and are escorted out by their alpha groups.
Movement in my periphery captures my attention, and I twist my head to see a group of about twenty males race by in perfect formation. The musky scent of alpha male trails after them like a cloud, and I can’t help but unconsciously inhale. All that separates me from them is a large green hedge dotted with flowers and a towering fence.
A lump forms in my throat, edged in razor blades, and I attempt to swallow it down.
Eros Academy.
Otherwise known as Alpha Academy, the school right next door to ours.
Only the best of the best are conscripted to attend the elite war college. The requirements are simple—they must be alpha. They must be twenty-five. And they must be male. One unspoken rule—they must all be from a well-to-do family.
A bitter feeling crests in my chest as I watch the retreating backs of the alphas.
At the end of the year, I’ll be “gifted” to one of these warrior teams—if I don’t find my scent match first, of course.
Gifted.
Like I’m a damn piece of property instead of the princess of these lands.
My father’s face appears inside my head, the memory potent, like a battering ram smashing against my skull. He sat at his desk, reviewing paperwork, his tie loosened after a long day of meetings. His beard was edged in orange from the lamp light on his desk, and it created glowing crescents in his eyes when he finally looked up to realize I was crying. Face softening, he abandoned his work and came around to the front of the desk, leaning forward and scooping up my hands.
“I know you don’t want mates, Brylee. But it has to be. We all have to be strong. Do what’s necessary to keep our monarchy intact with those bastards picking away at us. If you don’t find your scent match, your mother and I will pick a group of alphas who are trustworthy. Who’ll protect and care for you.”
Anger taints my blood like battery acid, and I feel my hands clench into fists. What I wouldn’t give to…
No. I can’t afford to have these thoughts. Hell, I’m notallowedto have them. They’re dangerous.
Ignoring the twisting sensation in my stomach, I pivot on my heel and rush toward the fountain. I drop to my hands and knees and grip one of the largest stones, wiggling it back and forth until it bursts free. Underneath the stone, half-buried, is an unassuming black cloak. I pull it out of the hole, shake it off, and then slide it on.
As soon as the hood is pulled over my head, obscuring my blonde curls from view, I feel like a completely different person.
Not Princess Brylee.
Not an omega.
Not a Darling.
Without a glance back at the academy, I hurry toward a gap in the hedges surrounding the property and duck my way through it. I don’t have a lot of time until curfew, so I’ll need to hurry.
Maybe I can convince Caran to make his world-famous lasagna…
2
BRYLEE
Stickingto the right side of the road—the side designated for unmated omegas—I encounter few people. The business district is closest to the school, and the glass skyscrapers become a veritable ghost town after six. I still clutch my cloak close as the wind kicks up, my heels snicking against the pavement as I keep my head down to avoid recognition.
The sweet scent that comes at the start of an omega’s heat—like cinnamon sugar frosting mixing with a woman’s natural scent—fills the air. That’s curious, because most omegas take suppressor pills once a day to ensure they don’t go into heat. Not taking them can be dangerous, because alphas can’t resist an omega in heat. My throat tightens as I wonder if I need to swoop in and help a girl out of a tough spot.
But then I notice a woman in a red coat rushing out of a corner restaurant. She’s escorted by five looming alphas who surround her in a protective huddle, and they don’t look random—not with the way she’s clutching them. A car pulls up to the curb, and they all pile in, the door hardly shut behind them before the group is whisked away.
A shudder goes up my spine because, as much as Harper and the omegas around me look forward to that future, I don’t.
While there’s nothing awful about the idea of being spoiled and adored, I’m very aware that it doesn’t always turn out that way.
Very aware of how dangerous it is to make yourself so vulnerable.
