To ruin an Omega - Chapter 417: Eventually

Chapter 417: Eventually

PAULINE

The earth yielded beneath my hands, soft and rich, giving way in a manner most things in my life refused to. I pressed my fingers deeper into the soil, guiding the roots of a young white nightshade into place with steady care, packing the dirt around it until it held firm. The garden had always been my sanctuary, the one place where things bent to my will without question, where I could shape and refine without interference.

The sun settled warmly against my back, sinking into my skin, and for a brief moment, everything felt manageable. Quiet and contained.

Then I heard the footsteps.

Light and quick, uneven in a way that betrayed reluctance. Whoever it was did not want to be here, but had come anyway.

I did not look up.

“Luna Pauline.”

The voice was young, strained with nerves, and instantly familiar.

I continued smoothing the soil around the plant, pressing it down with deliberate care before finally glancing over my shoulder.

The Omega stood a few feet away, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her head was bowed just enough to show deference, though not enough to hide the tension drawn across her shoulders.

She was the one Marcus had been spending his nights with.

I had noticed. Of course, I had. I had simply chosen not to care. Caring would have meant acknowledging that it mattered, and I refused to give Marcus that satisfaction.

“What is it?” I asked, turning back to my work.

“Alpha Dimitri requests your presence, Luna.”

I paused, my fingers resting against the damp earth.

“Marcus wants to see me,” I repeated, my tone even.

“Yes, Luna.”

“Why?”

She hesitated. “I am not sure, Luna.”

I withdrew my hands from the soil and wiped them against the cloth tucked into my belt before rising to my feet and turning to face her fully.

She would not meet my eyes.

“Tell him I will be there when I am done with this.”

“Luna, I think this is important.”

I let the silence stretch long enough for it to settle over her, heavy and deliberate.

“I am sure what I am doing is far more important than whatever foolishness he is occupied with,” I said quietly, the sharpness in my voice left unhidden. “Relay my message.”

She shifted her weight, her fingers twisting together.

“Unless, of course, you would like to spend the night in a cell with a few strong men.”

Her breath caught.

I stepped closer, watching as the color drained from her face.

“I know you must feel a bit special now with the time you spend with my husband,” I continued. “But you should understand what happens to cockroaches who dare to spread their wings. They disgust those who rightfully belong, and they get crushed for forgetting their place.”

I let the words sit before adding, quieter, “Know your place.”

Her hands trembled.

“Luna, I tried to fight him,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “But he is the Alpha. I could not have—”

“I hear excuses.”

I reached out and took her wrist, turning it so the pale underside faced up.

“The right thing to do was—” I traced a slow line across her skin with my finger, deliberate and measured, “—but you did not. So spare me.”

I released her and stepped back, brushing the dirt from my hands with more force than necessary.

“I miss the Omegas of old,” I said, almost to myself. “They were loyal to the bitter end.”

She said nothing. She only stood there, trembling, her gaze fixed on the ground.

I let out a slow breath and turned away, dropping my tools beside the half-planted nightshade.

“Where is he?”

“His study, Luna.”

I walked past her without another word, my jaw set tight as I made my way back toward the main house.

The corridors were quiet, the kind of silence that settled deep into the walls. Morning light filtered through the tall windows, stretching long shadows across the stone floors and catching in the edges of the hall like something waiting to be disturbed.

By the time I reached the study, the sentinels stationed outside bowed immediately.

I did not acknowledge them.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside, and the shift in the air was immediate.

It hit me like a wall.

Hostility. It was thick, as it was suffocating.

The hostility came coupled with hate.

I lifted my gaze.

Marcus stood behind his desk, his hands braced against the surface, his body drawn tight with something I had never seen in him before. There was no restraint in it, no attempt to conceal it. It sat plainly in the way his shoulders held, in the rigid line of his posture.

And in his eyes.

He looked at me with nothing but contempt.

It unsettled me more than I cared to admit.

“What is this about?” I asked, forcing my voice into something steady, something controlled. “An Omega refuse your touch and your penis?”

He did not move.

He only stared at me with that same burning hatred fixed in his gaze, and for the first time in a very long time, something beneath me shifted.

It was subtle, but goddess was it there.

I felt uneasy and unsteady.

“Athena…” He started, and I immediately turned to leave.

“I will ask you one last time, Pauline!”

His voice stopped me where I stood.

I turned back slowly.

“What happened to Athena?”

The name struck something deep in my chest, heavy and abrupt, but I did not let it reach my face.

“I am not having this useless conversation again.”

I reached for the door.

A sentinel stepped into the doorway before I could touch it, blocking my path.

I looked at him.

“I believe it is in your best interest to turn back and speak to the Alpha,” he said, his tone flat, almost rehearsed.

“Am I being threatened?”

He drew his gun from its holster and held it loosely at his side, his gaze fixed on mine.

“I am afraid yes.”

My pulse spiked, sharp and sudden, but I refused to give it away.

I turned back to Marcus, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

“What now, Marcus?”

He reached into his desk and pulled out a photograph, then set it down on the surface between us.

I did not move.

He slid it forward.

“I got mail today,” he said quietly. “It came packed.”

I stepped closer, my eyes dropping to the image.

My stomach dropped with it.

Athena.

Young, beautiful, and staring back at me with those wide, trusting eyes.

I swallowed hard.

“It had this photo of Athena,” Marcus continued. “It also came with a contract. A contract with your fingerprint put in blood.”

My throat tightened.

“The other party’s part has been torn out,” he said. “But I do not need that.”

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it up.

“It came with a letter too. I will read it out to you.”

I moved before he could finish, snatching the letter from his hand.

My eyes scanned the words, and with each line, the walls I had built around myself began to crack.

Your beloved didn’t die. She was sold. She’s alive. In Skollrend. Ask your wife what she knows, and if she doesn’t, come to me.

It ended with two simple words.

With love, A.

A? Was that… No… Aldric?

Fear flooded through me, cold and sharp and impossible to ignore.

I looked up at Marcus, and my mind started racing.

“Dimitri, you cannot believe this.”

He stood, his hands bracing against the desk again as he leaned forward.

“That day at Silver Creek,” he said slowly. “That girl. We both know who she looked like.”

My breath caught.

“She is Skollrend’s current Luna,” he continued. “Is she Athena?”

“Do not be ridiculous,” I said quickly, my voice rising. “She is no vampire.”

“Then explain the letter.”

“This is an attempt to harm us. To harm me.”

“By who?”

“I do not know! But—”

“Stop lying to me, Pauline.”

His voice cracked through the room like a whip, and I flinched before I could stop myself.

He saw it.

He saw the fracture.

“If you intend to keep that seat you like so much,” he said, his tone dropping to something deadly, “it is time to be honest.”

He stepped around the desk, closing the distance between us.

“Confess.”

The word hung in the air, heavy and final.

I looked at him, at the man I had married, at the man I had manipulated and controlled for years, and I realized with a sickening clarity that I had lost him.

Whatever leverage I once had was gone.

My pride wanted to fight. My pride wanted to spit in his face and walk out of this room with my head held high.

But my fear was louder.

Because if Aldric was alive, if he was the one sending these letters, then everything I had worked for was already burning.

And I had no idea how to stop it.

Was I to confess? It was clear the person who sent this letter… if it was Aldric… was not knowledgeable about the whole thing… Not that they cared… The goal was clear enough. To cause damage.

Maximum damage.