2

brYLEE

Sticking to 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.

I shake my head at myself as I round a corner, trying to snap out of the brittle anger I feel. To shake off my desire to run after that omega in the car and shout warnings.

An inarticulate longing that’s both vague and intense rises up inside of me. I have no clue what I actually want from life right now. I only seem to have a list of things I don’t want.

I don’t want to be at Darling.

I don’t want to be given to a group of alphas.

I don’t want my brother to keep hurting.

Ugh, my list of negatives makes me want to slap myself for how ungrateful it makes me seem as I reach the steps to Caran’s building—a refurbished brick warehouse that has that sleek-meets-rundown industrial charm. The omega lives on the third floor, and the elevator’s always broken, so I have to dash up the steps.

One massive neighbor, an alpha with muscles for days and a thick scar running down the side of his neck, passes me on the stairwell.

Immediately, I stiffen and my heart rate triples, tension tightening my spine.

His eyes drift over, as alphas’ gazes always do when they’re near an omega, but I keep my own gaze down as I clutch my hood closer and hope the dirt still clinging to my cloak provides a deterrent. Makes me look poor or sloppy or both. Anything that avoids marking me as a princess.

His gaze drops, and instantly I wish I’d changed my shoes—the pink kitten heels required by the Darling Academy uniform are pretty recognizable. But there was no time.

Besides, there’s no way this guy knows I’m in my second year of finishing school and not my third, when I’d be allowed to have after-hours, off-campus visits to whatever alpha group I’m gifted to.

God, I still hate that phrase.

After I make a quick turn on the landing, he’s gone from my sight and thoughts as I arrive, breathless, at Caran’s door. My fist pounds out a familiar tune that’s probably unrecognizable to anyone else, but Caran knows. I hit in a little rhythm as I mouth the chorus to Lana Del Rey’s “Summertime Sadness.” We spent a lot of nights last summer singing it while we were drunk on his couch—right after Teddie was diagnosed.

The door opens and Caran, a bright whirlwind of omega energy, stands in front of me. His curly mop of hair is flattened on one side and poofy on the other. The red rims underneath his eyes betray the fact that he must have been crying earlier.

But the rest of him is perfectly tailored as usual. Even though he hasn’t left the house today, he’s wearing a deep blue collared shirt with a sailboat pattern on it, navy trousers, and some boat shoes without socks. His self-appointed style has always been “yacht-ready” because, per his philosophy, you never know when a hot mafioso-type will kidnap you and take you on a sexy cruise around the world.

He’s way too into 365 Days .

My brother’s boyfriend gives me a smile that’s equal parts welcoming and sad. “Come on in.”

He gestures with a sweep of his arm toward his apartment, which is a mesh of industrial lighting with hippie furniture. Sitting in the middle of the living room is a low couch that’s a gradient fade from green to blue and is covered in patterned pillows. Twin tree-trunk coffee tables are in front of it, and I spot my brother’s feet propped up on one of them.

Moving closer as I toss my cloak over the back of a chair, I catch my twin brother scrolling on his phone. His blond hair sticks up in a way that tells me he’s spent the day on that couch.

“Hey, booger,” I tease, using a nickname from when we were four.

“Sup, poopsicle,” he retorts, tossing the phone onto the cushion beside him and gracing me with his easy grin. His dimple pops a little less than usual on his cheek, and I wonder if he’s lost weight.

“I learned how to seat dinner party guests according to potential business arrangements today,” I report as I sit down on the back of the couch, slide my legs over the top to the front, and then plop down into the seat, enjoying the way Teddie bounces when I land. “So, if you ever need an underwear modeling gig, I know just who to sit you next to.”

A pillow whacks me in the head, but not from Teddie’s direction. From Caran’s. Still standing behind the couch and holding a sunflower-printed weapon of fluffy destruction in his hands, the omega glares at me. “He’ll keep his underwear modeling contract with me , thank you very much.”

I shrug, tossing my palms up as I tease Caran. “Hey, I’m just letting him know he has options.”

“I’ve already got the best option.” Teddie kisses ass.

Caran smirks as he crosses behind us and leans down to kiss my brother on the forehead. They are so sweet together that it’s borderline disgusting.

Fingers tangling for a moment, they stare into each other’s eyes with a look that every single person on the planet has to envy no matter their life situation. The look is pure devotion.

Caran breaks the moment first, unwinding their hands and dropping the pillow onto the couch next to my brother. “That’s right. You’re damn lucky. Now, keep that sister of yours and her wild business machinations under control. I’ve got to go check my lasagna.”

“Yes. Those are magic words. You go do that kitchen tending, wench,” I tease.

“Putting a cockroach in your slice,” Caran quips without bothering to look back.

“I like crunch,” I counter.

Caran just flips me off as he stalks into the kitchen, and my brother’s gaze follows him for a second before returning to me. Immediately, Teddie’s expression falls, and I know what he’s going to say before he says it.

“Stage three.” The words come out as a hoarse whisper, barely audible, but they roll through my ears with all the impact of a high-speed train.

Fuck.

No.

That’s why Caran was crying.

I try to school my reaction, try to act like this news isn’t a crowbar to the skull, like it doesn’t make my stomach clench or tears gather behind my eyes. I’m not sure I’m entirely successful.

My brother has karkinos, a disease only carried on the alpha gene. Rare. So rare that there’s no known cure. And the medicine for it…only the Noths have it. The goddamned, wretched country of Nóthos that has sought to conquer ours for the last fourteen years.

“That’s not all,” Teddie says, shifting his hips, reaching and pulling out a bent letter from his back pocket, then handing it to me.

As I take the paper, the linen quality screams out its contents, telling me that Teddie’s bad news is doubled this week. Unfolding it, I see the crest for Eros Academy on the top, a shield with two lions tearing at one another in a massive glorification of violence. My eyes scan the first line.

We are pleased to announce that you’ve been invited to attend our fall session for alphas…

Invited. Ha. As if Eros Academy wasn’t essentially a conscription for every noble alpha male out there the second they turn twenty-five. Exceptional alphas who test in are also admitted these days.

With a war that’s lasted over a decade, the need to produce soldiers and find strategists has become more and more essential. Of course, female alphas go to a different school, one in which they’re taught how to fly our drones and coordinate attacks. Eros focuses on front-line battle brutality.

The words on the page become indefinable scribbles as emotions scratch at the insides of my eyelids.

My immediate thought is to beg our parents for help again. But they and the other fucking imbeciles at the palace—otherwise known as scientists—think that karkinos is like asthma. They think, because some alphas have “outgrown” the illness, that everyone will.

In my gut, deep in the darkest part of me, I don’t think that’s the case for Teddie. Especially not with this news.

Stage three.

There’s still a chance…but not if he goes to fucking Eros Academy. Not if he’s pushing himself to the limit every damned day.

He needs rest and medicine so that this disease will stop eating away at him.

I glance over at my twin, whose face is a mirror of my own in so many ways. Dimple on the right side. Thin upper lip with a strong cupid’s bow. A smirk that can incite smacks to the shoulder. We’re both tall and on the thinner side, even though he trumps me by about two inches. The only major difference is the angel kiss near his left temple. A little spot shaped almost like a heart. And the scar near his collarbone. One he got in a fight that feels like it happened a million years ago. In another life. One in which he defended me.

I owe him for that scar.

For a lot of things.

Clearing my throat, I clench the letter tighter in my hand, staring down at it. My fingers glide over the woven texture of the paper as I think, as cloudy resolve morphs into a plan, as the plan formulates into a series of steps, as the first step becomes as clear and defined as a slab of stone.

My eyes meet my brother’s. “You can’t go.”

“I have to.”

“You have to, but you can’t. And Mom and Dad have proven themselves useless too many times to count, so we can’t ask them to get you out of it.”

His eyes roll, but he doesn’t argue with me. I scoot closer to him until our knees touch. “So, you’ll technically go. But you won’t.” I have to take a deep breath and fortify myself before I add, “I’m going in your place.”

Teddie snorts. And that snort—which rightly belongs in a stable, it’s so disgusting—turns into a belly laugh that brings Caran out of the kitchen.

With an oven mitt still on his hand, he pops up an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

“Brylee says she’ll take my place at Eros. Can you imagine?”

I’m not amused by the tears of mirth forming in the corners of Teddie’s eyes. I cross my arms as I say, “I’m fucking serious. I’m going. You’re not. End of story.”

“You’re an omega! They’ll sniff you out in a second. End of story.” His head wavers side to side as he mocks me.

I suppress a terrified shiver at that possibility and embrace my stubborn side instead, a side that tends to emerge when I’m around my twin. “Not if I use scent blockers.”

“Those only last four hours tops?—”

“Just enough time, then. It’s not like I’ll be there all day. I can take more scent blockers between classes. First year is, what…mostly lecture classes to ease you guys into the physical regimen, right? I can swing that.” The words come out smoothly and confidently, and I’m proud of that; in all honesty, the fact that I can remain so calm about heading to the alpha academy helps make me a little more certain that I can do it.

Teddie rolls his eyes and swivels his head to glance at Caran, looking for backup about how outlandish my plan seems.

But Caran’s standing stock-still, his expression thoughtful, the way it gets when he’s been asked to do a big system security overhaul and his programmer brain takes over.

“No!” My brother stands up, realizing that his boyfriend might not immediately agree with him.

I smirk from my spot on the couch, pressing my point. “It’s gonna be some running. Endurance training. Some obstacle courses. I can do that shit easy peasy.”

“There’s all kinds of other stuff you don’t know about. And I heard they’re adding a class this fall. I’m not sure what it is. But not knowing is dangerous.”

“Pshh.” I flick my wrist dismissively. “Again. Not a problem. Since Darling Ditzes only expect me to do five classes a week so that I can spend plenty of time at their social functions scent-attracting potential mates— gag —I can totally pull that off.”

“You think I’m gonna let you walk into a school full of hormone-riddled alphas? You’ve got another think coming.” His arrogant, big brother, older-by-two-minutes tone shows up.

I shoot to my feet, and my voice is as sharp as a blade. “You think I’m gonna let you walk into a school full of hormone-riddled alphas when you’re sick ? When they might think they have a shot at taking our family down?”

He swallows hard, and I know I’ve hit a pain point. The war has made our family unpopular. Our position precarious.

They tried unseating us before. Killing off the weak link when the weak link was me.

It’s not far-fetched to think they’ll try again.

Especially if they catch wind of any frailty.

Teddie’s nostrils flare, and I can tell he’s trying to gather his thoughts for another argument, but Caran’s voice breaks in.

Tentatively, he ventures, “It could work. I could hack the systems and ensure the class schedules don’t overlap.”

“Don’t you?—”

“You need to rest, Ted!” Caran’s voice gets just the tiniest bit shrill, the emotion he no doubt battles back daily to keep from leaking out. There’s a desperate sadness in his tone, a begging quality, as he adds, “You need to rest so you can get better.”

My brother’s hands come up to his hair, and he tugs at it in frustration. “And what if that never happens, huh? What if?—”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Each word is punctuated by a step until I’m in my brother’s face. Until I can see every stripe in his blue irises. “You will get better. I forbid anything else.”

Sarcasm paints Teddie’s features red even as tears gloss his eyes. “Oh, well, if you forbid it?—”

“I do too.” Caran’s suddenly beside us, mouth set and expression determined. “I forbid it too.”

My arms go out, and I yank Teddie into me, curling in and smashing my cheek into his chest. Then I reach around and grab Caran’s waist, pulling him into a three-way hug. My brother’s heartbeat pounds against my ears. None of us acknowledge the tears spilling down our cheeks or the way the love between us all feels so strong and yet so jaggedly painful all at once.

Is there—in all the universe—anything more important than trying to save someone you love?

I don’t think there is.

That’s why, even if this is a fool’s errand, a stupid idea, going to earn me a black mark on the omega mate market, and going to be a living fucking nightmare…I don’t give a fuck.

I’m going to try.