What Books Are Similar To Omni I.Q. Quiz Contest?

"Althea." I still. I shiver. He says my name like it's sacred, like it's an oath he's swearing. He tilts his head to the side, eyes roaming over my face. "Tell me," he murmurs, "what do you want me to call you?" My eyes slowly meet his, confused by his question. "What do you want to call me?" "I want to call you mine.” *** Althea Gray is a bullied omega who has fought for survival at every turn of her entire life. When she discovers her boyfriend of three years has been cheating on her, heartbreak is the least of her problems. She's been chosen for the deadly Mate Games, a brutal competition where females from all parts of the kingdom, fight for the chance to win the favor and heart of the ruthless Alpha prince. Prince Asher Valebrook is as cold as his ice-blue stare, and he has no interest in love. Althea knows better than to want him, but a reckless one-night stand might seal her fate. Though she and Asher claim to hate each other, the line between love and hate is dangerously thin. With betrayals lurking in every shadow and survival far from guaranteed, Althea must play the game wisely. But in a palace built on blood and lies, winning Asher's heart might be the deadliest challenge of all.

Elias has lived his whole life as a lie. Born a male Omega in a world where his kind are owned, traded, or bred, his only chance at freedom was to disappear behind a forged identity. Now he’s “Eli Arden,” Rank 2 at the most ruthless Alpha academy in the nation. No one suspects the truth; Not the instructors. Not the students. Not even the wolves who want to beat him. Only one person watches too closely. Ronan Vesper: Rank 1, cold-blooded, terrifying, heir to an Alpha dynasty—and the one Alpha Elias can’t afford to provoke… or attract. But suppressants are failing. Instincts are waking. And when Ronan catches Elias mid-dose, something shifts between hunter and prey. He should have exposed him. He didn’t. Now Ronan is circling him like a secret he wants to own. And Elias is running out of time to keep his body and identity under control. In a school where the weak are erased and the powerful take what they want… What happens when the deadliest Alpha discovers his greatest rival is an Omega?

To prevent me from being jealous of my stepmother's son, my dad implemented a "family point system". Washing dishes earned 1 point, and getting a perfect score on a test earned 10 points. Accumulating 1000 points meant you could make a wish come true. When my stepbrother broke a vase, Dad said it was a sign of good luck and awarded him 50 points. When I insisted on going to school with a fever, Dad said I was trying to garner sympathy and deducted 100 points. I scrambled to scrape together every point I could, all for that exorbitant Math Olympiad registration form. On the day I finally accumulated enough points, my stepbrother cried and said he wanted a pair of limited-edition sneakers. Dad immediately emptied my points. "We're family. Your points are your brother's points too." I looked at the torn-up application form and jumped from the 18th-floor balcony.

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.

After I secured early admission to one of the country's most prestigious universities, my old high school invited me back to sit for the State Scholars Exam and compete for the top statewide score. But just ten minutes into the math paper, the proctor out of nowhere accused me of cheating. "Everyone else starts with the multiple-choice section. You went straight for the proofs. Were you planning to copy someone else's answers later?" Before I could explain a single word, he dragged me into the boys' restroom. Not only was I humiliated and forced to strip, I also had to let him inspect me over and over again to confirm that I had no cheating devices on my body. After I returned to the exam room, I decided it was better not to cause more trouble, so I started from the multiple-choice section like everyone else. But less than five minutes after I sat down, he yanked me up again. "This is even more fake. You didn't even take time to read or think through the questions before writing down the options. If that isn't cheating, what is?" "I suspect you knew the answers in advance. I'm reporting this to the exam board right now and having your exam qualification revoked!"

During the national college entrance exam, I didn't write a single word, yet I deliberately waited until everyone else had left before walking out of the testing center. Facing the reporters camped outside, I said confidently, "A top university? I've practically got it in the bag." My biological parents, who had only recently brought me back into their wealthy family, couldn't stop smiling. Even the fake heiress of the family could barely hide her excitement. I only smiled without explaining and signed the early-admission confirmation my teacher had secured for me in advance. In my previous life, my biological parents had bound the fake heiress and me to a score-swapping system for the national exam. She effortlessly used my score to get into Thornwood, while I couldn't even qualify for an ordinary trade college. I became the laughingstock of the entire school, and the fake heiress led the accusations that all my earlier grades had come from cheating. Unable to endure the humiliation, I jumped from the school building. This time, I'll make her learn exactly what it feels like to rank dead last in all of Westbridge.