To ruin an Omega - Chapter 362: Burn a Bridge 1

Chapter 362: Burn a Bridge 1

PAULINE

I woke in the guest room with daylight already pushing through the curtains, thin blades of gold cutting across the floorboards and stopping just short of the bed. For a moment I stayed where I was, listening to the quiet of the estate and letting my thoughts gather themselves into something orderly. My skin felt tight, the familiar dryness that always came after a restless night. I swung my legs off the mattress and crossed the room toward the bathroom without thinking about it too much. Routine had always been my way of keeping the day from unraveling too quickly.

It was also a good thing that because of the many fights my husband and I usually had, I made sure most guest room were stocked with what I needed.

The sink light flicked on and filled the mirror with a soft white glow. I leaned over the counter and began the process the way I always did. Cleanser first, cool against my fingertips as I worked it into my skin. Toner next, followed by the small glass bottle of serum that cost more than most people spent on rent in a month. I pressed it carefully into my cheeks, watching the reflection across from me repeat every motion with clinical precision. The woman in the mirror looked exactly as she always did. Composed. Controlled. Unreadable. Years of discipline had shaped my face into something that rarely betrayed anything I did not want seen.

I finished with moisturizer and gently tapped it beneath my eyes, smoothing the faint shadows left by poor sleep. Only after everything was in place did I reach for my phone on the nightstand beside the sink. The screen lit up with a single notification waiting for me.

One voicemail.

From Valentine.

I frowned slightly and pressed play, holding the phone against my ear while I continued patting the moisturizer along the curve of my cheekbone. Valentine’s voice spilled into the quiet bathroom, bright and almost boyishly pleased with itself in a way that immediately put me on edge.

“Good morning, Pauline. I have excellent news. Our freedom from Aldric is nearing. That mad dog might actually be put down now. Call me when you get this.”

My hand froze halfway through the motion.

My finger remained pressed against the skin beneath my eye while the message ended and the phone fell silent again. I lowered it slowly and stared at the screen as if it might offer some additional explanation.

What?

I replayed the message and listened more carefully the second time, focusing on the tone behind his words. Valentine sounded delighted. Not relieved, not cautious. Delighted. The way he lingered on the phrase mad dog carried a satisfaction that made my stomach tighten.

The timestamp caught my attention next. The voicemail had been sent an hour earlier, a bit after the sun had risen. Whatever had happened, Valentine had been awake thinking about it for a while.

I did not bother hesitating.

I called him immediately.

He answered before the first ring had fully finished.

“Pauline.”

“What is that ominous message about?” I set the moisturizer down harder than I meant to, the glass bottle striking the marble countertop with a sharp crack that echoed faintly through the bathroom. “And do not try anything stupid. There is a reason we have spent years lying on our backs despite hating the fuck out of that guy. Aldric still has leverage on us.”

“Relax,” Valentine said, the amusement in his voice impossible to miss. “His true colors have finally been shown to the Alpha of Skollrend.”

I went completely still.

“No way.”

“I know,” he replied, sounding almost giddy. “I had the exact same reaction.”

The sudden rush of adrenaline made my knees feel weak. I stepped away from the counter and sat down on the edge of the bathtub before they could betray me entirely. I had grown rather tired of my body reacting like that lately.

“How?” I asked carefully.

“The trial is approaching faster than expected,” Valentine said. I could hear the faint clink of ceramic on wood, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone taking a sip of coffee. He always drank it black and far too hot. “Everything is lining up now. It’s practically a sealed deal.”

My mind began moving through the possibilities with cautious precision.

“This is happening?” I said quietly.

“It is,” he replied. “Pauline, we might actually be free of him.”

Something in my chest loosened slightly at those words. The shift was small but unmistakable, like the slow release of a breath I had not realized I had been holding for years.

“What about the dead man’s switch?” I asked. I kept my tone calm, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the sudden pulse of hope trying to creep into it. “What about the posthumous exposure arrangement? The information he buried in his own people vaults?”

Valentine chuckled softly.

“Long story,” he said. “But the pack’s own Beta was the Deadman switch. The only one probably.”

I blinked at the mirror.

“The Beta.”

“Yes.”

I pushed myself off the tub and returned to the sink, staring at my reflection as if it might reveal whether this entire conversation was some elaborate hallucination.

“That is too convenient,” I said slowly. “Even if Aldric falls, the information still exists somewhere. The fleshcraft, the experiments, the records. Everything.”

“And?” Valentine asked lightly.

I frowned.

“If it surfaces after the trial, we are still implicated.”

“Not the way you think.” I could hear the smile in his voice again. “If the information appears now, it will only strengthen my testimony. People will assume Aldric somehow fabricated it to discredit me before the trial.”

He paused for a moment before continuing.

“They will believe it is false evidence planted by a desperate man.”

The logic settled into place with surprising ease. I considered it carefully, testing the argument from every angle the way I always did when Valentine presented one of his schemes.

He was right.

If the information surfaced now, it would look like retaliation. Aldric would appear vindictive and unstable. Any evidence connecting us to his work would be interpreted as a smear designed to weaken Valentine’s testimony.

“We win this time around, Pauline,” he said quietly.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

The same controlled expression looked back at me. The serum had already settled into my skin, leaving it smooth and unblemished beneath the soft bathroom light. Anyone looking at me would see the same composed woman they always saw.

Then something unexpected bubbled up in my chest.

I laughed.

It slipped out before I could stop it, sudden and real and completely unpolished. The sound startled even me.

“So does this mean you can return to your experiments now?” I asked once the laughter faded. “Wenzel still needs a healer.”

For a moment Valentine said nothing.

Then he laughed too, a low sound filled with the kind of anticipation that usually preceded one of his more dangerous ideas.

“I don’t know. I just got out of this mess. To delve into it again, and so soon, will not be smart.”

“Well… That is true. But you have Number Three.”

“Number Three is very volatile. Not fit for a pack like Lily of the Valley that will push it.”

“It?” I repeated.

“Oh. Him… I meant him.”

I picked up the moisturizer again and smoothed more into my hands. My fingers were dry. They were always dry in the mornings.

“Well,” I said. “I promised Wenzel a healer in order to protect my granddaughter.”

“I thought you didn’t have a good relationship with them.” Valentine’s tone went careful in that way it did when he was testing something. “It was Aldric that forced your hand to save the girl in the first place. You have no shackles binding you to that anymore.”

I paused. He was not wrong. The only reason I had gotten involved with Isobel and her daughter Hazel at all was because Aldric had made it necessary. Because he had dangled my own safety and peace in front of me like bait and I had bitten.

“I guess you are right,” I said slowly. “But I do want to keep a good relationship with Lily of the Valley. And I promise you, Valentine, they will be useful. If Wenzel sees what you have to offer, you will get everything you want. He is a man too. He wouldn’t have to go around the corners to give you what you want like I have to.”

There was a pause. Then Valentine made a small sound that might have been agreement.

“In that case, it is best I do a very good job.” His voice picked up again, that particular energy he got when he was thinking about his work. “There is a test subject I am missing, though.”

My hand stopped moving. I knew exactly what and who is talking about.

“Are you insane?”

“Pauline—”