To ruin an Omega - Chapter 347: For your consideration

Chapter 347: For your consideration

HAZEL

New Omega maids came in.

They moved quickly and even more professionally. Like nothing had happened at all. Like there wasn’t blood still on the floor near the door, like the screaming hadn’t stopped echoing in my ears just seconds ago.

They served the food without looking at any of us. Plates came down in front of me. Something with roasted vegetables and meat I didn’t recognize. The smell was good though. It was rich, savory and entirely at odds with what had just occurred.

I picked up my fork.

Around the table, everyone else did the same.

We ate.

The silence was complete. Not the comfortable kind where people were simply focused on their meal. This was the kind that pressed down on your chest. The kind that made you aware of every small sound. The scrape of a knife. The soft clink of a glass being set down. Someone’s breathing, slightly too fast.

I looked up.

Just a glance. Just enough to take in the table without seeming like I was studying them.

They all looked fine.

Composed and I could even add calm. Perhaps this was just another Tuesday morning and nothing unusual had occurred. Forks moved to mouths. Food was chewed. Swallowed. The rhythm of it was almost mechanical.

But it was a lie. A lie that they throw.hatf to keep sewed in.

If I was being frank, only Lysander seemed truly unbothered.

His posture was perfect. His expression neutral. He ate the way someone might complete paperwork.

I went back to my own plate.

That did made me feel like something wasn’t adding up. This had to be a regular thing. Wenzel didn’t get that kind of obedience, that kind of immediate compliance, without repetition. Without history. These people had seen this before. They had lived through versions of this before.

So why had they flinched?

Why had the girls turned away? Why had Sofiane looked at the ceiling like he couldn’t bear to watch?

If this was normal, if this was routine, then the shock should have worn off by now. They should have been as detached as Lysander. As unbothered as their father.

But they weren’t.

I cut into the meat on my plate. It was tender. Cooked perfectly.

When I looked up again, Alpha Warren had finished his meal.

He stood. The movement was unhurried. He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin, folded it, set it down beside his plate.

“I’ll leave you kids to your devices,” he said.

His voice was pleasant. Light, even. It was so odd seeing him act like he was a normal father excusing himself from a normal family breakfast.

He turned to Lysander. “Remember. Spend time with the Lady.”

Lysander nodded once. “Of course, Father.”

Wenzel started toward the door.

Then he stopped. Right beside Sofiane’s chair.

I watched without lifting my head. Just my eyes. Just enough to see.

“The least you should be able to do,” Wenzel said quietly, “is know how to use your cutlery right.”

Sofiane didn’t move. He didn’t look up either. His hand simply tightened around his fork.

“You never stop disappointing me,” Wenzel finished.

Then he walked out.

The door closed behind him.

For a moment, nothing changed. We were still sitting there. Still silent. Still eating or pretending to eat.

Then the air came back.

I felt it. The way the pressure in the room shifted. The way shoulders dropped just slightly. The way someone let out a breath they had been holding too long.

One of the girls started crying.

Not loud. She knew better. All she let out were soft, broken sounds that she tried to muffle with her hand.

Another of the girls reached over immediately. Put an arm around her shoulders and leaned in close.

“I’m so tired of being afraid,” the crying girl whispered. Her voice shook. “I just want to leave this place.”

The girl comforting her murmured something too low for me to hear.

Then her eyes lifted.

They found me.

I watched them darken. I watched something cold and sharp move across her face.

“The rumors about you were true after all,” she said.

I set down my fork. “What rumors?”

“I saw your eyes,” she said. Her voice was steady now. Harder. “When my father demanded how they be punished. Glee. You looked pleased.”

“You’re sick,” she added.

I frowned. “I only gave a response to what he asked me. I would have been punished if I didn’t give him one.”

“No.” She shook her head. “That isn’t the issue. We both know that isn’t the issue.”

She gestured toward Lysander without looking at him. “Lysander is our father’s favorite. I see him when he bends the knee to our father and does something he doesn’t enjoy. Everyone can see how he punishes himself afterward.”

“That’s enough,” Lysander said.

His voice was quiet. Controlled.

His sister ignored him. “You know I’m not wrong. You must have seen it too. There’s something seriously wrong with the girl.”

She turned back to me. “It’s no wonder she tried to take out her own sister. Kinslaying. Even her own pack sentinels aren’t safe. How are we sure she won’t—”

“Our guest deserves respect,” Lysander cut in.

The sister stood. Her chair scraped back hard against the floor.

“Fuck Father,” she said. Her voice was shaking now. “And fuck you for putting up with it because you don’t want to end up like us. Like Sofiane.”

She stormed out.

The other girls followed. One by one. Their chairs pushed back. Their footsteps quick and uneven.

I dropped my cutlery.

The sound was louder than I expected.

“Excuse me,” I said. “I’ll go for some air.”

I stood.

Lysander stood as well.

“Food is a privilege,” he said. His tone was even. Polite. “It’s best you finish eating before you go for some air.”

“I hate when you sound like that,” Sofiane muttered.

He picked up his plate, stood up and immediately carried it toward the door.

When he reached it, he turned back and looked at me.

“If I were you,” he said, “I would run before I cannot get out.”

Then he left too.

Lysander sat back down.

He picked up his fork and started eating again like nothing had happened.

I stood still.

“Don’t pretend their words hurt you,” he said without looking up.

“They did,” I said. “What makes you think I’m made of steel?”

He glanced at me then. Just briefly. “You don’t have to put on the act with me, you know. I’ve dealt with your kind before. I would like to think I know you inside out.”

I waited.

“You were going to run out,” he continued. “Bursting into tears. Making it as dramatic as you can. Just so you can curry pity from someone.” He cut into his food. “After all, bending to my father’s whim will only earn you a sour reputation. Not that you had much to begin with. Better to be controversial and polarizing than a straight up bitch.”

He took a bite, chewed, then swallowed.

“But don’t waste your breath,” he said. “The Omegas here will be kind regardless of what they truly think of you. The sentinels too. Your guardian. As long as you don’t break the rules.”

I pulled my chair back in and sat down.

“What an astute psychoanalysis,” I said.

He didn’t respond.

“You never made mention of the misogynistic rules though when you came to Silver Creek,” I added.

“Regardless of them,” he said, “you would have held my hand. You’re a woman demoted to Omega. Reputation in tatters. No prospect of strong mates. You would have done it grumbling. But you would have done it.” He paused. “I simply didn’t want you whining in my ear. Like you’re doing now.”

I picked up my fork.

Looked at him.

Really looked at him.

“You think you’re so above it,” I said.

He didn’t answer.

“You know this works both ways too,” I continued. “You can see me. I can see you too.”

I leaned forward slightly. “Let this monster tell you. It doesn’t pay at all to be filial. Especially to a man like that.”

His jaw tightened.

“I would know,” I said.

“Really? You don’t seem the type. Sorry if that sounds rude.”

“My sister was filial. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her family and the people she loves. But at the end of the day, sometimes the well of water you give is purer than most would care to give back when you become in need.”

I watched his face. Watched for the crack.

“She suffered relentlessly,” I said. “Though perhaps if I hadn’t made a callous impulsive move, you would have maybe eventually crossed paths with her and it would have been possible for a romance to fly.”

His hand formed a fist.

“It would have been more epic,” I went on. “She would never survive here no matter how much she was born to endure.”

“Do not talk about Fia,” Lysander said.

His voice was low. Tight.

“Why?” I asked. “She’s my sister. And you know it’s just wishful thinking.”

I tilted my head. “What would have happened if the girl had come here? Would you be like this too? Cold and unfeeling? Loyal only to your father and his whims?”

He turned to me. “I am only cold and unfeeling because it is you.”

I smiled.

My hand came up and reached for his face.

He caught my wrist before I could touch his lips.

“I never really noticed,” I said softly. “But your lips look very soft.”

“Not even if hell freezes over,” he said.

I smiled wider. “Well, I don’t think you’re just cold and unfeeling because it’s just me.”

I leaned in closer. He didn’t pull back.

“I think Fia would have suffered if fate connected her to you,” I said. “You cannot be filial to two ideals. You can only be one with the dice life threw at you. A filial son or a great husband. Never both.”

“Are you trying to get into my head?” he asked.

“It only feels that way because you know I’m right,” I said. “It doesn’t feel nice when the mirror is turned on you, does it?”

He didn’t answer.

He dropped my hand and kept his eyes on it for a moment.

“You’re wrong though,” he said finally. “I can be both. But not for you. Never for you.”

He looked up and met my eyes.

“So whatever new idea is burning into your mind, it won’t happen. You won’t be happy with me. I’ll fulfill my duties if it gets to that. But that will be the end.”

“I’m not used to not having what I want,” I said. “You’ll learn that quick.”

He smiled. It was cold. “Are you insinuating that you will have me?”

I smiled back. “I could. But perhaps Sofiane would do. He pretends to be above it. But deep down, he wants your father’s approval. And he might not admit it, or even realize it, but he despises that you have it. He’ll do anything to chase that high. He might like your rejects.”

I made eye contact with his forest green eyes.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“If Sofiane helps me out with your lewd fantasies,” he said, “I would be happy. So knock yourself out.”

I smiled in response. “Heat season is coming soon. Maybe I will.”

I paused.

“Or maybe I’ll have you both. I have done brothers. But at the same time, no.”