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“ F uuu-udge!” I catch myself just before cursing in front of my antiquities students. My hip smarts from where I smacked it on the desk while pacing in front of the class. It’s hard to focus on teaching when you’re expecting news on the most important opportunity of your life. Any minute now, the dean of Anthropology could call, email, or even walk through that door to tell me whether my application for the dig in Ekdoti was accepted—my first dig. A dig that could change more than my career, if my speculations are right.

Forcing myself to focus, I flip to a different slide on my computer, then scan the room for someone willing to answer my question about the significance of the goddess Lunara to early civilizations. The projector flickers across the faces of comatose students. Not a single hand raised. Eyes glazed over in the dim light of the lecture hall.

I point to a guy in the back row, an alpha jock who’s clearly only in the class to meet a humanities requirement. He probably thought it would be easy.

He gives me a numb blink. “Um… ‘cause… she’s important?”

The entire class laughs until I fix them with a stern glare, leaning back against the desk in the middle of the lecture hall. “Is that a question?”

“Uh, no?”

I glance at the clock on the wall. It feels like the minutes are crawling by at the speed of a DMV employee. “That’s not an answer either, Matthews.”

A few people snicker quietly, so I point to one of them. “You. What role did the goddess play in society?”

The girl I’ve called on is an omega with perfectly applied makeup and prim posture. Everything I wasn’t at her age. Everything I’m still not. A textbook example of every alpha’s ideal woman.

“Belief in Lunara unified discordant tribes under a common belief system. It led to more centralized living and technological advancement.”

“Good.”

“Didn’t it also lead to wars and things?” A girl in the front row asks without raising her hand.

“An argument could be made for that,” I reply, lifting the hair from my neck to tie it in a knot on top of my head, a subtle attempt to ease an all-too-familiar hot flash. “Religion will always result in conflicting beliefs, especially with other gods and goddesses being worshipped during that time. But Lunara is different. She was a peaceful goddess for all. An omega, whose temple was said to be a refuge for other omegas, especially the abused, unwanted, and grieving.”

“Didn’t her priests have magic or something?” A beta in the middle, wearing a shirt that says Knotty Book Lover , asks.

I grin, always liking when that question comes up. The stories about Lunara’s acolytes using magic fascinated me as a child, and even more as an adult. It’s part of why I began studying her history so extensively.

“That’s what many accounts record.” I fold my hands together in front of me, resisting the urge to dive into the topic. I’m eager to end class on time so I can check my email and see if there’s any updates about the dig. “On Friday, we’ll discuss some of those accounts.”

If I’m here, which hopefully I won’t be.

The bell rings—finally—and the students pack up. “Make sure you read chapter one in The Historic Mysteries of Lunara!”

Students push out of the classroom like sand trying to get through an hourglass. They can’t escape fast enough. I feel the same. This is far from the most interesting class I teach, and today I have much more pressing things on my mind.

The new dig in Ekdoti is less than twenty miles from where historians estimate Lunara’s temple once stood. Some kids were out playing in the desert and stumbled upon bones. Because the remains were found on public land, the site was taken over by government officials, who put out a contract to a number of universities including Woodhurst. We won the bid, but before that happened they’d already recovered the bones of five people of mixed gender. No signs of injury so far. No weapons. No grave markers. A mystery.

I pick up my phone. There are two notifications from the dean. First, an email, next a text.

I open the email, holding my breath, tension tight in my shoulders.

The email begins with an overview of the dig site and what’s been found so far. All things I already know. It proceeds to speculate on the potential historical significance of the discovery. Dean Anderson has always been long-winded.

Before I can finish reading, students begin pouring back into the room for the next class. Thankfully, it's one I’m not teaching. I hurry out, gaze still on my phone. This is too big to wait until I get back to my office. I glance up just in time to avoid running into a wall. A student I had last term gives me a funny look, but I ignore him, drop my gaze back to the phone, and keep walking.

“I need on this dig,” I whisper to myself. A bad habit I picked up as an only child. Giving up on reading word for word, I scan to the bottom.

A squeal of delight bursts from my lips as I reach my office. More people look at me. Well, shit. I guess I’m cementing my reputation as the spacey professor today.

Swinging open the door, I hurry inside.

My office is dark and barely big enough for my desk, the bookshelf, and two armchairs. Cozy. Just the way I like.

I sink into the chair closest to the door, kicking off my heels and sighing as I reread the most exciting part of the email. I made it on the dig. I, Cora Whitlock, will be one of the lead archaeologists on the Ekdoti dig!

I’ve never been on a dig before. I’ve always wanted to go on one, but normally other candidates are chosen instead. Candidates who aren’t omegas. Much as I hate it, there’s still a lot of prejudice in academia. But Lunara is my specialty. I did my thesis on why the Goddess played such an important role in the sociological development of ancient civilization. I’ve read every original text we have that mentions her. Anything you want to know about Lunara, I know it. Guess they realized that might be helpful on this particular project.

Excitement thrums through my body as I return my attention back to the email and read the names of the rest of the team going. I don’t get far before I pause.

Dr. Roman Slate . Of course, Roman Slate is going. I let out a frustrated sigh and stare up at the ceiling.

It’s hard enough being an unbonded omega in this place without professors like Roman Slate refusing to work with omegas. I wonder what he thinks about me being on the team. I chuckle darkly. Bet he loves it.

“Oh,” I say out loud, sitting upright. “He won’t go. If I’m going, he’ll refuse. Perfect!” His own prejudice will make it so I won’t have to work with him. “Unless…the dean decides it’s better to send Slate instead of me.”

I fall back against the chair and groan.

I have to make sure that doesn’t happen.