Chapter 33

Ollie’s POV

“Sit, Ollie. I won’t repeat myself.”

I don’t know what he has in mind but he seems mad enough to try to punish any disobedience. For my own sanity and for my stomach’s sake, I move toward him and then sit on the stool beside his where he’s gesturing.

As soon as I sit, he grabs the base of my seat and turns it toward him so that I am facing him. The movements are all aggressive, showing his anger, though he hasn’t physically hurt me. Even angry, I’m not sure he will. The brothers have never struck me in the past. They didn’t seem the kind of men to hit a woman under any circumstance.

But Conrad still seems angry, and that anger seems pent up, like he’s not sure what to do with it.

I have no idea what I did to earn this kind of ire from him. All I did was skip dinner, something that he’s never really cared about since Sylvia came along. I could only hope this isn’t something like what Wes was saying, where the brothers can’t even trust me to feed myself now.

Conrad keeps his hand on my seat, his arm blocking my only escape route now. With the island on my other side and Conrad himself in front of me, I’m totally boxed in and can’t get away from whatever is happening here.

I tense up, unsure what to expect.

Conrad glares at me steadily for a fully intimidating minute, where I swear I don’t even breathe too loudly for fear of triggering something.

Then, he lifts his hand and plucks a strawberry out of his fruit salad.

“Open your mouth,” he commands.

I do so without question, as if on reflex. Immediately, I start to question myself. I’ve always been independent, yet now, with Conrad like this, I’m so ready and willing to do whatever he wants? Yet, I don’t stop. I keep my mouth open as Conrad lifts the strawberry to my mouth and holds it for me, stem away from me.

“Bite,” he says.

Leaning forward slightly, as if in a trance, I put my lips around the strawberry and bite my teeth into it. Some of the juice from the berry pools at the corner of my lip and drips down onto my chin. Conrad tracks the movement of that drip with an intense focus.

Raising my own hand, I start to wipe it away with my thumb. He grabs my hand before I can lower it again. Slowly, he starts to bring that hand to his mouth like he has every intention of licking it clean himself.

“Conrad?” I ask, somewhat startled and surprised.

He freezes, as if suddenly coming awake.

At once, he releases my hand like it burned him and then hops from his own chair.

“Eat something,” he growls, turning his back to me. I only saw a glance, but I could have sworn I saw the front of his pants tenting…

I had to have been imagining that. There’s no way Conrad would feel that way to me. This has all been some kind of mind game, I’m sure. Though the end result… I’m not sure what he’s after exactly. He probably just wants me even more under his thumb.

He leaves the room without another word, though as he opens the door, he hits it so hard that it smashes into the outside wall.

“Fuck,” he grunts as he steps out of the kitchen.

When the door swing closes behind him, there’s a crack down the middle of it.

I have absolutely no idea what any of this was about, but I’m still burning kind of hot because of it. The way Conrad looked at me… The intensity in his eyes…

I swallow thickly.

If he had actually licked my skin I probably would have caught fire.

Focus, I command myself. What am I thinking? Conrad has been cruel to me. I can’t start feeling soft for him, not for any reason.

Hugh, I allow myself to have sex with, but even that is probably too far. I don’t need feelings for any of the quadruplets.

Yet, as much as I want to discard this situation and everything Conrad said within it, I can’t deny he’s right about me eating. Especially because I’m repressing my wolf and the bond, I need to make sure I keep my strength up otherwise. Plus, I need all the sustenance I can get to stay focused for the final exams.

Whatever happened here with Conrad… I just need to forget it. He was just trying to control every aspect of my life, just like the rest of them. I have to stay focused on my plan. Ace the exams, get accepted to Nightheart university, and get out of here.

The next week is arduous, as I dedicate myself fully to my final exams. They last all day for a full week, and by the end of them I am exhausted mentally as well as physically. I’m entirely strained, even too much to reach out to Hugh.

My exhaustion this week isn’t about my mating bond so much. Instead, it’s about the strain of pushing myself too hard mentally, and the physical toll of being scrunched over a desk for hours on end in such a tense position.

On Saturday, the high school leaves their gates open so that students can come in to see the posted results of the exam. Ella and I get up early and head over there to see. Admittedly, I drag my feet some of the way, worried about my final score.

I need to do well. I have to get away from this pack – and the quadruplets – as soon as possible.

“I’m sure you did great,” Ella says. “You studied more than I’ve ever seen anyone study for anything.”

As much as I appreciate her support, I know that doesn’t mean anything. I could study forever and still not do well enough.

With my heart in my throat, my stomach twisted into knots, I walk through the gate and follow Ella toward where the scores are posted near the main office.

It doesn’t take me long to find my name. I’m right on top.

A harsh breath of relief punches from my lungs.

My score is the highest in the whole class.

Yet before my joy can rise too high, I notice an asterisk on the board next to my name. What does that mean?

I step closer to the board, where I see the asterisk again on the lower edge of the board, as well as an explanation of what it means.

Beside the asterisk is written, As an Omega, this student’s scores are exempt from all student rankings.

I don’t understand and blink for a few minutes. What could that mean? Exempt? Does that mean I’m not counted?

I look at my name again. Though I am at the top of the board, there is no number beside my name to show my ranking. Instead, the next highest scoring student is marked with a number one.

So, even though I did the best in the class, I won’t be able to tell anyone that I did, not even the university where I applied.

Maybe it’s not a huge deal, in the grand scheme of things. My score still counts and will be recorded.

Yet, this feels like just one more slap in the face. One more thing being Omega has taken from me.

One more reason to get out of here.