To ruin an Omega - Chapter 409: King Lear and Cordelia 4

Chapter 409: King Lear and Cordelia 4

ALDRIC

She moved fast.

Faster than I expected, fast enough that for a fraction of a second I simply watched her go, registering the sudden shift from defiance to raw instinct.

Her feet struck the ground hard and unevenly, her breath already breaking apart into sharp, panicked bursts as she ran, no longer looking back, no longer pretending she had any control over this.

Then she screamed.

The sound tore through the night, high and piercing, carrying far beyond the clearing, a desperate call that might have meant something if we were anywhere else.

But we were not.

I bent without thinking, my hand closing around the first thing it found. A stone, small enough to grip, rough against my palm, heavy enough to matter.

I did not hesitate.

I threw it.

It cut cleanly through the air and struck the back of her head with a dull, sickening thud.

Her scream snapped off mid-sound.

For a moment, it looked as though the world had tilted beneath her feet. Her body faltered, her balance collapsing as her hands flew up too late to catch what had already happened. She pitched forward, barely managing to break her fall as she hit the ground on her hands and knees.

Her head jerked, disoriented.

Slowly, almost blindly, she reached back, her fingers brushing over the point of impact. When her hand came away, it glistened dark in the low light, slick with blood that had already begun to spill.

The stone slipped free from her hair and dropped beside her.

She turned, and our eyes met.

By then, I was already moving.

She tried to rise, tried to force her body back into motion, but whatever rhythm she had found before was gone now, broken by pain and shock.

It did not matter.

I closed the distance before she could take more than a step.

My weight hit her from behind and drove her down into the ground, the impact knocking the air from her lungs in a harsh, startled sound. My hands found her throat almost immediately, and my fingers got to work immediately by locking into place as though they had always belonged there.

She reacted instantly.

Her body bucked beneath me as she twisted and valiantly fought, with her hands clawing at my wrists as she tried to pry me off. Her mouth opened, desperate for air… for sound… but all that came out was a strangled gasp that never fully formed.

I tightened my grip.

Her nails bit into my skin, sharp and relentless, tearing through flesh in a frantic attempt to break free.

Then her leg came up.

She was fast and precise. I saw myself in that as her knee drove straight into my groin.

The pain detonated through me, white-hot and blinding, forcing the air from my lungs in a broken exhale, and my grip faltered just enough to give her an opportunity.

It was all she needed.

She shoved hard, twisting out from under me as I recoiled, and scrambled away, dragging in ragged breaths as she forced herself back to her feet.

I doubled over for a moment, the world narrowing around the pulse of pain while my body fought to recover.

By the time I straightened, she was already running again.

Not far. Not nearly far enough.

I lunged.

This time, there was no hesitation or even miscalculation. I hit her from behind with enough force to send us both crashing to the ground.

It brought me pleasure when her body slammed forward as I came down on top of her, pinning her beneath me.

My hands found her throat again.

“You are such a disappointment,” I said, my voice rough, strained from the lingering pain and the effort of holding her down. “No drive, no vision, nothing that even begins to resemble what you could have been.”

She did not stop fighting.

Instead, she turned her head sharply and bit down.

Her teeth sank deep into the flesh between my thumb and forefinger, hard enough to draw an immediate, sharp hiss from me as pain flared again, different but just as immediate. I yanked my hand back on instinct.

She twisted beneath me, using the opening, her fists coming up in quick, desperate strikes that connected with my face once, then again, each hit fueled by panic and adrenaline.

Her legs followed.

She was kicking hard, and she was relentless with it, too.

Her heel slammed into my ribs, then my stomach, each impact driving the air from me in uneven bursts until I was forced sideways, my hold on her breaking completely.

She did not stop.

Even as I hit the ground, she kept going, her kicks landing again and again, faster now, harder too, as though she needed to make sure I stayed down.

I curled inward, instinctively protecting what I could, riding out the blows, and waiting.

Then Gabriel surged, his presence forcing its way forward with sudden strength as he pushed against me and clawed for control, for breath, for even the smallest piece of what he had lost.

And for a moment, I let him take it.

Not out of mercy, but because I needed him to.

“Please… stop,” I said, my voice shifting into something softer, something fractured that did not belong to me. “Get him out of me.”

Elara froze as recognition set in.

Her leg halted mid-motion while her entire body locked in place, caught between instinct and disbelief.

“Uncle Gabriel?”

Inside, he fought harder, pushing and straining as he clawed for control, desperate to reclaim what was his and hold on to the sliver I had allowed him.

It didn’t last.

I forced him back down with a decisive, crushing will, sealing him away as I reclaimed every inch he had managed to take.

Then I shifted.

The change began in my hands, subtle at first but unmistakable as bone stretched and reshaped beneath skin, as nails split and gave way to claws that were curved outward, sharp, dark, and made for something far more purposeful.

She barely had time to react.

I caught her leg and yanked hard, sending her crashing onto her back as the impact knocked the breath from her in a broken gasp that never quite became sound.

Before she could recover, I dragged her closer.

And then I struck.

The first cut opened cleanly across her throat, the second dug deeper with deliberate precision, and by the third, there was no restraint left in the motion.

Blood surged out immediately, hot and heavy, spraying across my face and chest as it spilled over my hands and soaked into everything it touched.