Teaching Their Omega novel · Chapter 6 of 24

Chapter 6: The Handbook

I threw my clothes on in seconds.

My sweater was on inside out and my braid was a ruin.

I hit the bottom of the ladder with my shoes in my hand.

"Stay up there," I whispered back at the dark loft. "Both of you."

Osmund Ingram stood in the Grange hall under the one lit bulb with his cane planted on the stone.

He was breathing in through his nose, long and slow.

"Miss Pascoe," he said. "It's nearly ten at night."

"I'm marking papers."

"With the door locked?"

"The heating's broken. It keeps the draught out."

He turned his head toward the stairs to the loft.

An Alpha of sixty-one can smell a room where a heat has been, even a faint one.

A faint one hung over this hall.

His thin mouth went thinner.

"My nephews are not in the habit of lessons after dark," he said.

"I am," I said. "It's in my contract. Ask them."

He looked at me for a long moment.

Then he looked at my sweater, at the seam on the outside of my left shoulder.

"I will attend Tuesday's class," he said.

"I intend to see what the Handbook has become in your hands."

"You'll be welcome."

"The inspection includes a restraint demonstration."

"Each Alpha of this house stands in a room with an Omega's scent for one hour and shows no reaction."

"On what Omega?"

"One of your students. Chosen by lot."

I felt my face go cold.

"No," I said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"My students aren't props, Mr. Ingram. You can put that in your minutes."

He rapped the cane once.

"We will discuss it Tuesday," he said, and went out into the dark.

I leaned against the door and listened to his car start.

Above me, very softly, Rhett began to laugh.

On Tuesday afternoon eight students sat at the old school desks with their notebooks open and their eyes on me.

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