Omega Academy

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by Lily Archer


  “Please, take the syringe. It’s safe. I promise. But if you don’t use it, you won’t be safe.”

  “Why not?” Alarm heightens the tone of her voice as she grits her teeth against another wave of hormones that threaten to turn off the rational part of my mind.

  I try to take a steadying breath. “Because you are an Omega. We are all Alpha.”

  “Huh?” She shakes her head. “You said I was safe, but now I’m not safe? I want to be safe!”

  “Then do it!” Jeren points at the syringe. “Do it now before your body goes into full needing. If that happens, we might not be able to stop ourselves.”

  “Stop yourselves from what?” She backs up and reaches for the cylindrical syringe, her delicate, dirty fingers wrapping around it.

  Close your eyes, close your eyes, close your eyes. I can’t close my eyes. I watch as she grips it and pulls.

  Jeren grabs the front of his shirt with both hands, his knuckles going white. “We are made to mate with you, Omega.”

  “Mate?” Her screech is ear-piercing as she plasters herself against the wall. “Did you just say mate? As in sex?”

  “Can’t you feel it?” Ceredes licks his lips and takes a step toward her. “The pain inside you? We can make it go away. We can help you. Just say the word, and we’ll ease you, Omega.”

  The spines along my back pop out, stabbing through my shirt, and Jeren growls.

  “Stay back! There will be no, no ‘easing.’” She holds out a small, muddy hand—as if that could ever keep us away. We’re trained warrior Alphas, and though we look the same age as her, I’ve already seen 27 full Centari suns, and the others are even older. She has no chance against us. And damn the Pillars if that doesn’t excite me even more.

  “Take. The. Suppressant.” My mouth says the words, but my hand wants to reach out, grab the syringe, and smash it to bits.

  She seems to finally sense the danger closing in, her pupils widening, her pulse flickering rapidly at her throat. Holding up the syringe, she asks, “Where do I stick it in?”

  Jeren bites his knuckle.

  “Anywhere!” My mind is going dark, the primal urge to mate taking over. “Do it. Do it now!”

  She fumbles with it, her hands shaking.

  When the scent of her slick hits me, I go into motion. The other two follow.

  And when she drops the syringe? We close in.

  5

  Lana

  “Jesus, that stings!” I toss the syringe away as the men crowd me, their eyes dark, hands fisted. “Back off.” I kick out at the closest one, his wide chest heaving, his blue eyes focused on me. “Stop!”

  He grabs my ankle with ease, compounding the pain in my ladyparts. It’s harsher, deeper than anything I’ve ever felt, but it also verges on … something I refuse to name, to even consider. After all, I just met these strange men. I don’t want anything from them. Especially not that. So why am I so … Wait, did I pee myself? No. That’s not it.

  The blue-eyed one yanks me toward him.

  My scream scratches my throat raw as he looms over me.

  “Fight it, Ceredes.” The golden one fists his hands.

  “Trying,” blue eyes grits out.

  The black-haired one grips the back of the seat next to me, his hands crushing the metal with impossible strength.

  “Get away from me!” I try to scramble back as an awkwardly pleasant sensation tingles between my thighs. That feeling is reserved solely for my private fantasy time with Henry Cavill, so I shouldn’t be feeling it now. But I am. What the hell? My cheeks heat as I kick at him again.

  Blue eyes snarls and reaches for me. “Omega, you belong to …” He blinks. “Omega.” He blinks harder and shakes his head. “I—”

  I draw my foot up between his legs. Hard. He howls, his face going red. The other two rip him away from me, and all three of them—breathing hard and sweating—back up. The blue-eyed one doubles over and dry heaves. The golden one has something wrong with his back, and the dark one’s neck tattoos pulse in streaks of black.

  “Don’t fucking touch me!” I curl up into a protective ball. Just like with Mom, I have to make myself small, cover my soft parts, and wait for it to be over. But something tells me these men could hurt me far, far worse than my mother ever managed.

  “I’m—sorry—Omega.” The blue-eyed one can’t catch his breath, his face still red as he rests his hands on his knees.

  I peek at him from my roly-poly position. “You’re sorry? You’re an asshole. That’s what you are!”

  “It’s fading.” The golden one scrubs a hand down his face. “The suppressant is working.” He lets out a long breath. “By the Pillars, that was close.”

  The dark one turns away from me and leans on the control panel, the muscles in his strong back contracting.

  I stay in my protective position as the charge in the air slowly dissipates. A planet flies past the window, its surface an impossible swirl of reds and pinks. This can’t be real. Maybe Van strangled me, and this is what lack of oxygen does to my brain.

  After a few more tense moments, a calm settles over all of us, and I wonder what I just injected into my body. The syringe lies beside me on the cold metal floor, only a faint blue glow remaining inside. The rest of it is in me. What if it’s poison? Then again, the three men are staying away now, so maybe it’s a good thing.

  “Omega?” The golden one doesn’t approach and keeps his voice soft. “The suppressant is working in your system and overriding your needing phase.”

  “I don’t know what you’re saying.” My voice quavers.

  “Your needing,” he repeats, his tone still gentle. “When your body sends out a call to all Alphas, and you need …” He pauses but doesn’t drop my gaze. “Release.”

  My cheeks can’t get any redder, but I think I know what he’s trying to say. I remember when we had a stray cat that took up at our house, lounging on the back porch in the sun as I petted her. I named her Josie, and she was scraggly but soft. I came home one day, and she didn’t show for her afternoon petting session. Mom said she went into heat and was slutting it up with the neighborhood tomcats. I assumed Mom was lying and had carried her off and dumped her. But maybe not. Is that what this is? Is he saying I’m in heat like an animal?

  “Your body was going into needing. That’s what triggered us. It is nearly impossible for Alphas to resist the call from an Omega in need.”

  “Like a cat in heat?” I sound dumb, but I can’t think of it any other way.

  “In heat, yes. That’s a term for it.” The blue-eyed one’s voice is calm now. “It’s common knowledge among the fleet. That’s why all Omega cadets are on suppressants. We didn’t realize you weren’t. I apologize, Omega—”

  “Lana. My name’s Lana.” Aren’t you supposed to try to humanize yourself with your kidnappers?

  “Right, yes. I’m Ceredes, Lana.” He pauses, as if he likes the taste of my name. “And I’m truly sorry to have frightened you.”

  “As am I.” The golden one seems to have gotten control of himself and leans against the console. “I’m Kyte.” He lightly kicks the dark-haired one. “Jeren?”

  “Sorry,” he mumbles, but doesn’t turn around.

  “Is it over?” I want to believe them, and, at the moment, they do seem more afraid of me than I am of them.

  “You’re safe.” The golden one—Kyte—presses his palms together. “I promise you.”

  “You said that before.” I narrow my eyes.

  “I know. But I was unaware of the suppressant issue. Besides, we wouldn’t have hurt you. We would have just given you what you—” He seems to rethink his course, and says simply, “We won’t hurt you.”

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath and let it out. “Are you sure you can’t take me home?” My voice is small, fragile. The same way I feel.

  “I’m sorry.” Kyte shakes his head, and his eyes actually do seem somewhat sad. I can sense a hint of remorse, as if his emotions are a scent. “Like
we said, there’s no going back.”

  “Oh.” It’s a lame response, but I can’t seem to think of a better one. This can’t be real.

  I lie in silence for a while until the hard floor begins to wear on my hip. Shifting into a sitting position, I scoot until my back hits the wall. Hemmed in by seats on either side, this is the most protection I can get in the small space.

  “So, there are aliens.” I can’t wrap my head around it. Sci-fi isn’t my jam. I’d much rather watch a horror movie than sit through some outer space romp. Except that one with Matthew McConaughey, though I didn’t understand half of it.

  “Aliens.” The dark-haired one, Jeren, wrinkles his nose. “Where did you come up with that term?”

  “It’s common knowledge.” I resist the urge to shrug. Staying still and quiet seems more important right now, no need to rile them again. “But in the movies, you’re usually green or blue or you have like this little mouth of teeth inside an even bigger mouth of teeth and there are, I don’t know, all different sorts. You usually don’t look so attracti—errr, normal.”

  Jeren smirks and runs a hand through his dark hair. “You were going to say attractive.”

  A planet streaks by the window, and a burst of sparkling dust floats in a huge pillar of purple and red. Whatever this delusion is, it can be beautiful.

  “Everything will be explained to you once we reach Centari.” Kyte turns to the console and presses some buttons.

  Panic tries to overcome me again, and I press my head between my knees. “I thought you said you couldn’t control the ship?”

  “I can’t, but I can access the academy databases.”

  “Breathe slowly, human.” Ceredes sinks into the seat the farthest from me, but he’s still close in the tight space. “No one will harm you.”

  “You sure about that?” I snap.

  “Of course.” He actually has the nerve to sound offended when he was all over me only moments ago.

  “Stay away.” My voice is breathy, and I’m losing it again.

  Something prickles along the back of my skull, and then I hear the golden one’s voice in my head. “He won’t hurt you.”

  I glance at him, but his back is to me as he works at the console. Now I’m hearing things.

  “Alphas have a primal need to protect Omegas. Any of us would give our lives for you.”

  “You just tried to attack me.” I think back, even though I know it’s insane.

  “Not attack.” His voice comes again, the touch of his consciousness soft, as if he’s trailing his fingers along my thoughts. “When an Omega goes into her needing, she experiences extreme physical pain. Agony. The only way to stop the pain is for her to mate with an Alpha.”

  “Oh, so you were trying to help me with your … your, well you know what?” I scoff. But at least my breathing has evened out.

  “Yes.” The light pressure disappears.

  When I look at Kyte, he’s peering down at me. “There’s something odd in your file.”

  “What is it?” Ceredes scooted closer to me when I wasn’t looking, and Jeren lurks to my right. But they don’t seem aggressive, just … attentive?

  “Her transport was requested by the High Commander.”

  “Commander Bartanz?” Ceredes whistles. “That doesn’t seem normal.”

  “It isn’t.” Kyte rubs the golden band on his left bicep. “The fleet usually sends out recon drones to locate any Alphas or Omegas. To have the High Commander handpick an Omega—and from a star system outside of the Gretar Fleet’s control—is unusual.”

  Though I’m in a dream, it doesn’t stop me from getting pissy. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” I straighten my back against the cold metal. That tone, my defiance—these are the reasons why I get detention at least once a week, why Mom can’t stop at just one hit, and why the few friends that I have know I will be there for them when they need me. I’ve never known when to shut up; Van was right about that one thing, at least. Speaking of Van …

  “By the way, what did you do to the boy who was attacking me?” I look at Ceredes for some reason. Maybe he’s the leader?

  Jeren cracks his neck in an unnerving way, the ink popping right along with his movements. “Alphas must protect Omegas.”

  “That’s not an answer.” My brows draw together.

  Ceredes pierces me with those blue eyes, his gaze so intense I want to look away. But I don’t. Now it’s a game of chicken, and I refuse to lose.

  “Is he alive, at least?” I can imagine how easy it would be for these men to snuff out a life, especially one as worthless as Van’s.

  “He’s alive.” Ceredes nods. “At least he was when the shuttle took off. But he will not be touching anyone else without permission ever again.”

  “Good.” My skin crawls as I remember Van’s hands on me, and I cross my arms over my chest.

  “We could steal another transport.” Jeren leans over the seat, his dark eyes like two promises of violence. “Take care of him for good.”

  “No. No, thanks?” Am I thanking him for making a death threat? I shake my head. “But that is a great idea for other reasons.” My tone brightens. “Because if you can steal a transport and go back to Earth for Van, then you can do the same for me!”

  “No.” Ceredes’s expression turns stern. “There are harsh penalties for any Alpha that takes an Omega from the fleet.”

  “Why?”

  “There are so few of you. If an Alpha—or even a Beta—absconds with an Omega, the punishment is death. Not to mention that without the protection of the Gretar Fleet, you’d likely be taken by the Sentients, your Alpha killed, and then you’d be assigned a new one that would have no compunction whatsoever about using you as a brood queen, or worse.”

  I press my hands to my face and look at them through my fingers. “Stop talking about me like I’m a sack of potatoes. I’m a person. No one’s going to abscond with me. I want to go home. Or wake up. Or do whatever it takes to get out of this whacky alternate universe I’ve been tossed into.”

  “All will be explained once you arrive at Omega Academy.” Kyte is still frowning at the console.

  “Academy? Like a school? Because school and I aren’t on the greatest of terms.” I decide to just go along with the insanity for a while. Maybe it’ll make things easier on me. “Is there detention? What do they teach there?”

  “It’s a school, yes. There’s Alpha, Beta, and Omega Academies, though we all take classes together, for the most part. The curriculum is set each year depending on the needs of the fleet. And there are punishments, though not exactly detention.”

  “So, you have houses. Like Alpha are what, Gryffindor?” I stare at Jeren, his demeanor more Slytherin than anything else. “But that doesn’t really work, because you three are so different from each other, but you’re all Alpha. Okay, Harry Potter is out the window. So, tell me about Omegas. Are they all like me?”

  “Omegas are all different, though you share the Omega trait.” Ceredes seems more comfortable reciting facts. “The academy is supposed to teach you your strengths and weaknesses. The training is designed to make you a powerful member of the fleet.”

  “What does that mean? What does the fleet do?”

  “Protects and defends the—”

  The ship begins to shake, and the computer voice pipes up. “Landing approach underway.”

  I stand and peer out the window. Below, a vast planet comes into view, the land a mix of greens and grays. Water snakes across the surface, but never seems to come together in an ocean. Beneath us, a city on a tight grid appears. I have no sense of size, but even I can tell the buildings are enormous, most of them glinting silver as we descend through some low clouds.

  “This isn’t real.” I grip the dented seat back in front of me. “Not happening.”

  “This is Centari, capital of the Gretar Fleet and home to the Academies.” Kyte points to a complex on the edge of the grid. “That hexagon contains the campus, though training
often takes us all over the planet and throughout the galaxy.”

  “That’s where we’re going?” I creep closer to the window.

  “Yes. The biggest building is the shared instructional space, the biggest dorm here—” He points to a huge complex made of stone but with a shiny glass roof, “—houses the Betas, the next biggest has Alphas, and this small one here is for the Omegas.”

  “That’s not fair.” I stare at the stone and glass buildings, the sun reflecting off a million facets. Trees surround the campus, and water shoots into the air from multiple fountains throughout the grounds.

  “It’s practical.” Ceredes’s face darkens as we approach. Is he worried? The shuttle rattles a little, and he continues, “There are more Betas than Alphas, more Alphas than Omegas.”

  “Fine, whatever.” I don’t need to know more. I’m leaving. “Someone there can send me back, right?”

  “Theoretically?” Kyte nods. “Sure. But it’s not going to happen.”

  “You don’t know that.” I grab my backpack.

  Ceredes leans into the window. “You guys seeing this?”

  Jeren’s dark eyes widen. “Is that the High Commander?”

  Kyte turns to me, his face losing some of its golden hue. “Be on your best behavior.”

  “Why?”

  His eyes soften, and his hand moves toward my face, and for just a split-second, I want him to touch me. But he drops it back to his side and blinks. “The High Commander awaits your arrival, and he doesn’t suffer fools.”

  “I’m not a fool.” I don’t have time to be offended, because the shuttle jolts to a stop and the bay door slowly opens, revealing a new world that I never knew existed.

  6

  Jeren

  She walks away from me.

  I stay put even though everything inside me screams to go after her.

  Kyte and Ceredes stand beside me, their gazes fixed on her just like mine.

  Master Harlan strides up, his gait stiff, his eyes narrow as he stares down Ceredes. “Explain yourself.” He doesn’t waste any time.

 

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