Page 58

“You will clear out of this house by noon today,” I say. “I am now the Vasilissa of this pack.”

She grimaces.

“You disagree?”

“No, kyra,” she says. “Apologies, kyra.”

“Also,” I say, “there is something that needs burying in the basement there. Have someone see to it.”

14

lotus

FINALLY, I GETsomeone to tell me that Selene is scheduled to arrive the following evening. I say that the tournament will go on as planned, though I know that no one can possibly stand against me.

It’s hard to explain how I know this, what I am now.

I don’t know what moment it happened.

It’s tempting to think it happened when I killed Dr. Acker.

But it happened before that.

It happened when they separated me, made me two—my omega self and my human self. Now, I’ve been put back together, but in the right order. Before, my human self was in charge.

And my human self?

Well, Penelope was right about me. Demure, hesitant, wilting,weak.

I am an omega.

I am the life mate of four vicious and strong alphas who would protect me with their lives.

To them, I am the most important person in the universe.

Now, I will behave as if I understand my importance.

I will not make myself lesser for the comfort of others. I will inhabit who and what I am. I will demand what I wish. I will take control.

After Penelope and the rest of the people in the main house clear out, I spend the rest of the day nesting. If I notice that they try to hide the fact they have a phone from me, or that they are typing into it, I don’t pay it any mind. I dimly remember that the Polloi have never had landline telephones, and that they eschew smart phones with apps and the internet, but that they have adopted using old cell phones, ones that can only be used to call or text. I remember it from some documentary I watched once. But it doesn’t register to me as anything to worry over.

I feel as if I have waited quite a long time for a nest, and I want one with an ache that overtakes me, that explodes in my chest. I have my mates stand guard on the porch of the house while I go looking for nesting materials.

I seize anything and everything that strikes my fancy, going through closets and bedrooms and the living room. I take fur coats and throw pillows. I take quilts and eyelit-lace curtains. I take flowered tablecloths and pink robes.

When I get back down to the front porch to tell my mates that they should go and scent the nest up with their own unique smells so that it smells like ours, Striker has collapsed.

The others have done nothing about this, staring forward, following my orders.

I sense this is not because they wished to do so, but because my control of them is so strong that they could do nothing about Striker.

I kneel down next to him, running my hand over his chest. “What’s wrong?”

“We haven’t eaten, kyra,” says Calix. “You only fed us semen.”

“Oh,” I say, furrowing my brow, wondering at that. “Well, eat then.” I open the door wide and they come inside.

Knight has picked up Striker and is carrying him in.