Chapter 54: Never
Chapter 53
Ciel
The room smells of boiled herbs and sickness. For weeks, my body has burned and shivered, pinned to the bed while whispers filled the house—my father’s servants muttering about fevers that won’t break, the doctor summoned again and again.
I drift in and out, fever-dreaming. But today the haze splits open like a blade cutting through fog.
"—What’s the diagnosis?" My father’s voice. Cold, commanding.
The doctor answers with nervous eagerness. "As you suspected, my lord. He has presented."
I blink awake, heavy lashes fluttering against sweat-soaked skin. Presented?
"He’s fifteen. Isn’t this late?" My father’s tone sharpens.
"Quite the contrary," the doctor says quickly, eager to soothe. "The reason his presentation was delayed is because he’s a dominant omega. In such cases, presentation can come later, with two possibilities being a dominant or recessive one. But—make no mistake—the young master is a dominant one."
Dominant omega. The words mean nothing to me. They float in the air like a foreign tongue, like numbers I can’t add up.
I shift weakly and the bed creaks. My father’s shadow falls over me. His eyes, steel-gray and glacial, meet mine.
"Leave us," he says.
The doctor scurries out, the door shutting behind him.
I sit up a little, clutching the blanket, heart hammering. I’ve lived ten years under this man’s roof, and still he terrifies me. His gaze is never soft. Always weighing, assessing, stripping me bare.
His hand darts out, clamps my jaw, forces my head up until it aches.
I freeze, breath caught in my throat.
He studies me the way one inspects a prize colt before auction. Cold. Calculating.
"The only good thing that whore of a mother did was have you," he says evenly. "Good. It’s time you repay me for raising you."
The words sting sharper than any slap. My chest seizes.
"Father—" I try, voice cracking.
He twists my head side to side, as if testing the joints of a doll. Then lets go, with all the care one might discard a piece of fruit they’ve decided is ripe enough to sell.
"It’s a little late for you," he says, already walking toward the door. "I’ll organize home school and classes."
"But I have high school," I blurt, panic spilling over. "I want to finish, I—"
"Enough." His tone slices through me, final. "You’re an omega. What good is school? Remember, from now on, your worth is tied to your alpha. Stop with this nonsense."
*
A baby’s babble pulls me out of sleep.
I blink, startled, my breath catching like I’ve fallen too far too fast. The sunlight streaming through the wide glass doors is too bright, the air far too clean. For a heartbeat, I think I’m still in that suffocating room, fevered and trapped.
But no.
I’m here.
I sit up, heart steadying when I see Lanny wriggling in the carrier near the couch. I scoop him up instinctively, pressing my lips to his soft head. His golden eyes blink up at me—my eyes, my mother’s eyes.
"You saved me, didn’t you?" I whisper, though he’s too young to understand. "Dragged me out of that house, whether you meant to or not."
His tiny hand pats at my chest, a soundless answer. My chest loosens.
Movement outside the window catches my eye.
Jack is crouched by the pool, sun painting his back bronze, helping Nolan skim the water with a net. Their voices carry faintly through the glass—Jack teasing, Nolan scowling but enduring it.
I can’t help the way my throat tightens.
The memory of my father’s gaze still clings to me like frost—sharp, unyielding, suffocating. That same coldness that weighed and measured me like livestock, like I was only as good as the profit I could bring.
And then Jack looks up from the pool.
His grin breaks across his face like sunlight after storm clouds, effortless, warm, entirely uncalculated. He waves—at me, at Lanny, at the simple fact of us existing together.
Something inside me aches so violently I clutch Lanny tighter to my chest. My son gurgles, blissfully unaware of the storm inside me, tiny hands batting at my shirt like he’s grounding me.
If my worth is truly decided by the alpha I tether myself to.My father was right about that much. But if I must live inside that rule;
I will not let Jack go.
Ever.
Jack isn’t like the others. He doesn’t see me as weak, or broken, or a possession.
So yes, I will hold onto him. No matter what.
Even if it means twisting the rules, bending Nolan into places he doesn’t belong, coaxing him into roles he never asked for. Even if it means manipulating the only person who has ever stood by me.
My chest burns with guilt. I glance toward Nolan—his back to me, shoulders taut, dutifully working alongside Jack. Loyal. Stubborn. Always there.
The pang is sharp, ugly.
But I turn away. My arms tighten around Lanny, as if holding him harder can justify the choices I’m making.
I’m sorry, Nolan.
I’m sorry that in trying to keep this fragile peace together, I’m using you.
But I am a father now. And fathers do not have the luxury of purity. Fathers make choices, ugly ones if they must, to secure the future.
I will raise Lanny under the best circumstances I can give him.
I walk away from them, and Lanny coos, his tiny fingers brushing my cheek as if he’s the one comforting me.
I can’t help the way my lips twitch into a smile. "You’re so precious," I murmur, lowering my forehead to his until our noses bump. "My sweet little anchor."
I rub my nose against his, slow and gentle. He squeals at the gesture, a soft, high sound that cuts right through the heaviness sitting in my chest.
Then it happens. A small, very suspicious sound against his diaper. Wet.
"Ew," I say instantly, holding him out at arm’s length. "Was that what I think it was?"
Lanny just giggles, mouth open wide, golden eyes sparkling. The smell hits a second later and I groan dramatically.
"You’re lucky you’re cute," I mutter, wrinkling my nose as he kicks his little legs like he knows exactly what he’s done.
He giggles louder, drool bubbling at the corner of his mouth, and for a heartbeat the heaviness in my chest lifts. The ocean breeze drifts in from the balcony, soft and warm, and for a moment it’s just us.
I sigh, pressing a kiss to his temple despite the diaper. "Alright, little troublemaker. Let’s get you cleaned up before you stage another attack."