To ruin an Omega - Chapter 408: King Lear and Cordelia 3

Chapter 408: King Lear and Cordelia 3

ALDRIC

“I suppose you’ve already figured it out,” I began, my tone measured, almost gentle. “Your father and I—”

“No.”

The interruption came clean and absolute, slicing through whatever I had intended to say next.

Her voice had changed, stripped of hesitation and sharpened into something resolute, something that left no room for doubt.

“You’re him,” she said, her gaze locking onto mine with unsettling clarity. “You’re him.”

I stilled, not because I was caught off guard, but because there was no longer any reason to pretend otherwise.

“Don’t insult me by pretending this is anything else.”

There it was. Certainty.

The mask, carefully constructed over time, slipped away without resistance. I let the concern drain from my expression, let the warmth I had worn like a disguise dissolve into something colder, something far more honest.

“So,” I asked, my voice lowering as I studied her, “did you follow me out here, or was this stroke of insight purely instinct?”

She did not even acknowledge the question.

“Oh my goddess,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper now, though the horror in it rang louder than any shout. “You are genuinely evil.”

Her eyes widened as if seeing me for the first time, as if the man she thought she knew had finally been peeled away to reveal what had always been underneath.

“How are you doing this?” she demanded, her voice trembling despite her effort to steady it. “How are you controlling him, wearing him like this?”

I tilted my head slightly, considering her, though not her question.

“Does the answer truly matter to you, Elara,” I asked, “or are you simply trying to delay the realization of what this means for you?”

“You took his life,” she snapped, anger rising now to meet the fear, “and now you’ve taken his body as well. Do you even hear yourself? Do you understand how sick that is? Because I promise you, once this comes out, everyone else will.”

A smile tugged at my lips, slow and unrestrained, and I allowed it to settle fully this time.

It felt… relieving.

“We are quite far from the main estate,” I said calmly, gesturing faintly to the empty stretch of land around us, “and you did not tell anyone you were coming here, which I know because I raised you and have always been intimately familiar with your tendency to act first and consider consequences later.”

A soft laugh slipped from me, quiet but genuine.

“In fact, I should thank myself for not correcting that particular flaw of yours. Had you been more cautious, more disciplined, I might have found myself exposed far sooner.”

Her expression twisted, revulsion overtaking whatever disbelief remained.

“You would kill me?” she asked, though the question lacked the defiance she likely intended.

I lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug.

“That depends entirely on you,” I replied. “Would you expose me?”

She took a step back, subtle but telling, her body stiffening as if instinct alone was urging her to put distance between us.

“No,” she said quickly, too quickly, the word tumbling out before she could temper it. “I wouldn’t.”

We both knew it was a lie.

“But what do you plan to do now?” she pressed, as if reclaiming some measure of control through the question.

“Revenge,” I answered simply, the word settling between us with deliberate weight. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Revenge for what?” she challenged, her brows drawing together. “Everything that happened to you was the result of your own actions. That isn’t injustice, it’s consequence. Some would call it karma.”

Something sharp flared in my chest at that, sudden and unwelcome.

“You would take their side?” I asked, my voice tightening despite myself.

She let out a breath that sounded almost disbelieving.

“Look at yourself,” she said, gesturing toward me as though the evidence spoke for itself. “Look at what you’re doing and tell me this is even remotely normal.”

“I was prepared to give you more than this,” I said, my tone hardening. “Power, Elara. Real power.”

“No,” she said immediately, shaking her head with firm conviction. “If that had ever been your intention, you would not have chosen this path to achieve it. You kept secrets even. I had a whole brother all this time, and he knew. He knew the real you. This bullshit might have worked on him. But not me! And besides, we already have more than enough. I am a Skollrend Luna, and you were an Alpha. What more could we possibly need?”

The word were lingered, though it was the one she chose next that struck deeper.

“Papa.”

It landed wrong, grating against something I had long since buried.

“We were spares,” I snapped, the volume of my voice rising before I could restrain it.

“Exactly,” she shot back, her own voice rising to meet mine. “Spared from the burden, spared from the constant weight of expectation and responsibility. That was a privilege, not a punishment, and you know it as well as I do.”

“No,” I said, my jaw tightening. “I had ambition, something you clearly lack. If you did not, you would have seen the opportunity for what it was instead of clinging to complacency like your mother always did. That is what drove her away—my refusal to remain small.”

Elara’s expression hardened, any lingering hesitation now gone entirely.

“Trying to murder your sister-in-law and your nephew, imprisoning your own family, and orchestrating a coup against your bloodline is what you call ambition?” she asked, her voice steady despite the fury beneath it. “If you can say that out loud and still believe it, then you are beyond reason. You are not driven; you are unwell, and that is exactly why she left. She tried to take me with her, and I stayed because I believed you. I thought she was the unstable one. I was wrong. Goddess, I was so wrong.”

Her gaze did not waver.

“But it ends here.”

I took a step closer, deliberately closing the space she had tried to create.

“You are standing alone with me,” I said quietly, letting the implication settle before continuing. “Given that reality, do you truly believe provoking me is the wisest course of action, or would it not serve you better to reconsider your position and choose your words more carefully?”

She did not retreat this time.

Instead, she lifted her chin slightly, meeting my gaze with something steadier than before, something that refused to bend.

“You won’t kill me,” she said, her voice no longer rushed or uncertain but deliberate, almost calm, as though she had already weighed the possibility and dismissed it. “For all your cruelty and all your delusion, there is still one line you cannot bring yourself to cross, and we both know it.”

“Morrigan, Cian, even Gabriel,” I said, each name placed carefully, each one carrying its own weight. “None of them were spared.”

Her expression faltered, just slightly.

“You truly believe sharing my blood grants you protection?” I continued, watching as that certainty in her eyes began to fracture. “That you are somehow exempt from the same decisions I have already made?”

I let the silence stretch, deliberate and suffocating, giving her just enough time to follow the thought to its end.

To understand.

“You are far more out of your depth than you realize, Elara.”

This time, the change was unmistakable.

It was not loud or dramatic, but it was there in the way her breathing shifted, in the way her gaze flickered past me as though calculating distance, escape, and most importantly, her survival. The defiance did not disappear, but something colder slipped in beside it, something instinctive that no amount of pride could silence.

For the first time since she arrived, she looked at me and saw not her father, not a man she could reason with or challenge, but something else entirely.

And she believed it.

Her body moved before her mind could catch up.

She turned and ran.