Selection knot their ome.., p.1
Selection (Knot Their Omega), page 1
SELECTION
KNOT THEIR OMEGA
E.J. LAWSON
Copyright © 2023 by Thorn House Publishing Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design: Pretty in Ink Creations
Edited by: Jennifer Jones @ Bookends Editing
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
M A D D I E
Chapter 2
K A Z
Chapter 3
M A D D I E
Chapter 4
M A D D I E
Chapter 5
W O L F
Chapter 6
M A D D I E
Chapter 7
T A I
Chapter 8
W O L F
Chapter 9
K A Z
Chapter 10
M A D D I E
Chapter 11
K A Z
Chapter 12
M A D D I E
Chapter 13
T A I
Chapter 14
T A I
Chapter 15
M A D D I E
Chapter 16
K A Z
Chapter 17
M A D D I E
Chapter 18
W O L F
Chapter 19
K A Z
Chapter 20
M A D D I E
Chapter 21
T A I
Chapter 22
W O L F
Chapter 23
M A D D I E
Chapter 24
T A I
Chapter 25
M A D D I E
Chapter 26
T A I
Chapter 27
M A D D I E
Chapter 28
K A Z
Chapter 29
M A D D I E
Chapter 30
M A D D I E
Chapter 31
K A Z
Chapter 32
W O L F
Chapter 33
M A D D I E
Chapter 34
T A I
Chapter 35
M A D D I E
Epilogue
CAPTIVATE: Also by E. J. Lawson
HYPNOTIZE: Also by E. J. Lawson
ONE
—
M A D D I E
“Less than twenty-four hours until we meet the Omegas who will be participating in this year’s Mating Trials, ladies and gentlemen,” a disembodied voice says from the speaker of someone’s phone as I make my way to the library.
“Indeed so, Dave. The selection committee has sifted through thousands of nominations from across the globe. Tomorrow, we’ll find out who has been chosen.”
The Royal Watch talk show is everywhere as I hurry along the crowded corridors of Omega Academy, careful not to bump into anyone or trip over my own feet. Every Omega I pass has their head bent to their phone to watch the show. No one has bothered with their earphones because they’re all tuned into the same thing.
Of course, this means none of them pay any attention to me, which suits me just fine. But it also means it’s up to me not to bump into any of them. Where some students seem to weave effortlessly through the throng of moving bodies in the Academy hallways between periods, I just barely stumble through, muttering apologies as my wide, bony hips knock into sides and my elbows jab into ribs.
“For those who are only tuning in now, we’re discussing the upcoming Mating Trials during which Royal Pack Eaton will select an Omega to finally bond with.”
I pull a face, a soft sound of ick pushing up my throat. I’m so sick of hearing about the Trials, but this close to the start of them there’s no escaping it.
At the Cambridge Omega Academy, the students live and breathe for it. All of them, it seems, except for me.
Maybe I’d care more if I had any chance of being nominated.
I scoff to myself, shaking away the bitterness my mum says is unbecoming of an Omega, especially one with absolutely no bonding prospects on her horizon after graduation.
You’d think in revered halls such as these, at one of the oldest OAs in the world, slightly more important things would be occupying the minds of the students than three—admittedly good-looking—royal Alphas choosing a non-royal Omega.
It’s to the point where the staff are just as enamored as us. Screens have been brought into our instruction rooms to replay grainy footage of previous Trials while professors and students alike sigh and swoon at the fantasy. We even had to sit through an entire unit on the historical significance and importance of the Trials in Omega History this past month.
The crowds thin when I turn into the corridor leading to our majestic library. I exhale a quick sigh of relief. If I’ve made it this far without incident, I’m confident I’m in the clear.
At least for now.
Lifting my head properly, I shake my hands out at my sides and smile. The comforting scent of paper and ink fills the air around me, and I breathe it in as I stride into the library. The wide open room with its high, vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows offer me space to take my first full breath since I started classes this morning.
This is my happy place. My sanctuary.
My footsteps are silent on the padded carpet as I turn left toward Ms. Frampton’s office. I tap my knuckles on her door before I walk in.
I won’t find bullies like Clara behind this door. There aren’t professors waiting for me to mess up. There’s no sick mum, no money troubles, and most importantly, no damn Trials.
If only I could take all my classes from the sanctuary of Ms. Frampton’s library office.
Ms. Frampton looks up as I walk in. She pushes her black-rimmed glasses to the bridge of her nose before she smiles and shuts the book she was studying. “Just when I was starting to wonder if I might starve waiting for you.”
I chuckle and drop down into the chair across from her desk that I’ve been thinking of as half mine for the last two years. “It’s chaos out there. Hundreds of zombie Omegas entranced by their phone screens.”
“Better call security then.”
I snort.
“Royal Watch?” she asks sympathetically as she reaches into her lunchbox and picks up a sandwich. “It’ll be over soon. Did you finish that book I gave you yesterday?”
I nod, rummaging through the satchel on my lap before locating my slightly squashed sandwich and taking it out of its brown paper bag. “I loved the way the Alphas treated the Omega in this one, but I especially liked the Omega herself. She was such a badass lead character.”
Ms. Frampton smiles. “I knew you’d like her. I have a surprise for you today, though. Guess who got her hands on the new Riley North?”
I nearly fall off my chair. “You did? How? I thought it wasn’t out until next week.”
She shrugs, a coy smile playing on her lips as she picks up the paperback and hands it over. “There are some perks to being the head librarian and a literature instructor here, you know. It’s not all about having lunch with you every day.”
“It’s not?” My hand flies to my chest.
I pretend to pout at her, but I’m too excited to keep up the act for very long. “Have you read it yet?”
“Who do you think I am? Of course, I’ve read it,” she teases, getting that faraway, dreamy look in her eyes she always does when she’s read something that she claims has changed her life. “It’s amazing. I may be a spinster, but if I could get my hands on a pack like that, I’d dig in my fingernails and never let go.”
“You’re not a spinster.” I scoff. “You’re barely in your thirties.”
“In my thirties and without so much as a single bond. I’m a spinster, darling, but I’m okay with it. As long as I have my books, I’m never alone. Besides, if I bonded, it would likely mean kissing this job goodbye, and I’d miss it too much.”
She sits back, running a finger over a clothbound tome she’s repairing in her spare time, watching as I carefully slide the new Riley North book into my satchel. When I look up again, she waves a hand at her desk. “Now, about that essay of yours.”
“Which one?”
She chuckles. “The one you gave me to read last month about Omega obedience?”
“Oh, that one.”
My heart speeds up as I wait for her feedback. I scoot to the edge of my chair, wincing at the lengthy silence. “Was it that bad?”
“Your essays are never terrible. I have to say this one surprised me. At first glance, it’s a truly gushing account of a system I happen to know you don’t agree with.”
“The sarcasm wasn’t obvious?”
She laughs. “It was to me, but to any outsider, it definitely wouldn’t look like satire. They’d take it as gospel and crown you a queen. Or they’d give you a job here as an instructor in Omega Etiquette Studies.”
My nose wrinkles.
“Hard pass. I don’t need a crown or a job brainwashing the next generation.”
Her pale-blue eyes light up as she laughs and shakes her head. “Is that what you think I’m doing, brainwashing the next generation?”
“No, but you teach Literature. Omega Etiquette Studies, though? One of those things is not like the other.”
“Well, at least it would be a job,” she says gently. “Have you thought about w hat comes next, Maddie? You’re almost 21, in your final year, yet, every time I ask, you change the subject.”
I exhale through my nostrils, closing my eyes for a moment and trying to center myself as the icy fingers of panic wrap around my heart. I tell Ms. Frampton everything. She’s one of my favorite people of all time and my only real friend here, but I can’t tell her the truth about this.
“I don’t know,” I hedge, aware of the fact she won’t let me change the topic again now that she’s put me on the spot. “I used to think I might like to continue my studies in either journalism or literature at a postgraduate level.”
“Used to?”
“Well, that was before I realized it’s not possible, is it?”
Because I would need to be bonded into a pack to be able to attend on my own, but there’s also the problem of money…”Getting a scholarship for an undergraduate degree wasn’t so difficult, but—”
“Most would disagree with you on that.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine, it was difficult, but I managed. Being awarded a scholarship at postgraduate level is next to impossible. It would also mean I wouldn’t be earning an income for a few more years and…”
I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence, but Ms. Frampton doesn’t need me to. She understands. As my closest confidante these last couple of years, she knows exactly what struggles I’m facing.
She considers me for a moment, then she nods. “What about the Mating Trials?”
I frown. “What about them?”
“You’re an eligible Omega, Maddie. For all you know, you could be the Omega who is selected from Cambridge tomorrow.”
I’ve never been particularly ladylike, but the snort that escapes me isn’t only unladylike, it’s barbaric. “That’s never going to happen.”
Someone would have to nominate me for me to even be considered, and I can count the number of friends I have within these walls without the need of a single finger.
“Why not?” she asks like she honestly doesn’t understand. “You have as good a chance of being selected as any other Omega here.”
“Not really. Even if miraculously, I am selected, I won’t be the one the Royal Pack chooses in the end. They’d take one look at me and send me home. Besides, I’d be as frustrated as an Alpha in rut with all the primping and bowing and scraping.”
“Oh, I doubt that. I think an Omega could get used to living in a castle and being waited on hand and foot, even if there might be some pomp and circumstance to put up with.”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter. You’re forgetting that I’d have to be nominated to be considered for Royal Selection. No one would have nominated me. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not a part of the social hierarchy around here.”
She waves me off. “You never know.”
I laugh. “With this, yeah, I think I do.”
It’s a sour admission. While I have my opinions about antiquated, outdated traditions like the Trials, I wouldn’t have minded the security that would’ve come with being bonded to royals.
But I can’t afford to get hung up on unrealistic things like hopes and dreams. I need to keep my feet on the ground and my head firmly out of the clouds.
And yet, Ms. Frampton’s words whisper through my mind for the rest of the day.
You’re an eligible Omega, Maddie. For all you know, you could be the Omega who is selected from Cambridge tomorrow.
You never know.
I push through the hedges at the rear of the academy and climb astride my bicycle to head home after class. It’s breaking at least one law and three school rules, but I can’t afford the Omega-only bus that runs from here to my neighborhood and my dad doesn’t have the time or gas money to be picking me up every day. So, I go alone.
On my way down the bumpy trail that leads to the sideroads, I can’t shake the seed of hope Ms. Frampton planted. I mean, maybe…
Damn it.
Don’t be ridiculous Maddie.
The only thing I should be focused on is reality.
As I let off the brake and let gravity do the work of propelling me down the hill from the Academy, I thank my lucky stars for making it through the day unscathed from the likes of Clara and her minions.
My number-one anti-fan and her demon squad probably spent the day too busy primping for Clara’s shoo-in selection tomorrow to torment me. Since the royal family started the first Omega Academy hundreds of years ago and remains the largest benefactor for all of them, they’ve decided for this year’s Mating Trials, the Omegas will be selected from OAs around the world instead of from the usual pool of titled rich kids only a few cousins removed from blood relation.
Our Academy is one of the oldest, founded around the same time as the beta university with whom we share a town. We’re affiliated with it, and we’re held in the same regard. Generations of Omegas who have attended the institution have gone on to do great things. The self-appointed shining star of our year—no, of our entire generation—is Clara Turner.
At least I won’t have to deal with her anymore once she’s selected.
The fact she’ll be gone is the silver lining I cling to at this point. Well, I also have the new Riley North book to settle in with tonight, so technically, I can focus on two silver linings.
The state of the buildings deteriorate dramatically as I get closer to home. Litter dots the sidewalks, which are lined by brown, unkempt hedges. Since Fen Road isn’t a place where I want to be caught not paying attention, I shove my thoughts away. I’m alert to my surroundings for the rest of the way home.
As I turn onto our block, the first thing that catches my eye is my five-year-old brother, Kevin, playing in our front yard. Alone. At nearly sunset. Again.
My stomach churns, head spinning on a swivel. I don’t see anyone who looks too dodgy, but I up my pace anyway, knowing it can only take a second for something terrible to happen.
I nearly fall off the bike in my haste, letting it slide to the ground as I arrive, taking my foot with it, caught beneath the pedal.
Shit. I gasp, regaining my balance just before my head could connect with the rough edge of the sidewalk.
Wobbly but on my feet, I barrel toward my brother and gently circle my fingers around his thin upper arm. “Kev, what are you doing out here alone? It’s dangerous, bubba, you know that.”
Brown eyes fill with tears as they meet mine. He nods but shrugs his tiny shoulders. “I know, Maddie. I’m sorry. Mummy and Daddy are fighting again. It’s too loud.”
My heart splinters in my chest. “I know, honey, but let’s go inside, okay? You can come play in my room.”
He burrows into my side when I wrap my arm around his shoulders and lead him up the steps and to the front door. Thankfully, my parents are arguing, and they don’t hear the telltale creak of it opening as Kevin and I tiptoe into the house.
Honestly, maybe we should make some noise so they’ll hear us. Maybe they’d stop. But it’d only postpone the fight until later, when they might wake Kevin with their angry voices.
They’re both under a lot of pressure, but I really wish they’d be more careful around Kev. At the very least, wait until I’m home so I can keep him busy or take him out while they have their spat.
Once we’ve made it to my small bedroom and shut the door behind us, I drop my satchel and pass Kevin a puzzle to build. I’ve always got one in here for occasions like this. He takes it without arguing and sits cross-legged on my narrow bed, drawing the square of cut cardboard from between the mattress and the wall to set atop the lumpy blanket.
Guilt crushes my chest when I realize my parents are arguing about money again, and I do my best to tune out their raised voices.
This is why I couldn’t tell Ms. Frampton the truth about what comes next for me.
I have thought about it, but she won’t like or support the options I’ve come up with.
