To ruin an Omega - Chapter 428: True Story 1

Chapter 428: True Story 1

LYSANDER

Breakfast the next morning carried the same weight it always did. The table was set. The chairs were occupied. The silence pressed down like something physical.

I sat in my usual seat and waited.

My sisters were already there. All of them looked tense, their hands folded in their laps and their eyes fixed on empty plates. Sofiane slouched across from me with that lazy posture he wore like a shield, but his gaze kept flicking toward the door.

Hazel sat to my left. She hadn’t said a word since arriving. Her hands rested on the table, fingers laced together so tight that they started to turn her knuckles pale.

The clock on the wall ticked past the appointed time.

One minute. Then two.

But father did not appear.

Sofiane was the first to break. He leaned back in his chair and let out a low whistle.

“Well,” he said. “This is new.”

One of my sisters shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe he’s running late.”

“Father doesn’t run late,” I said.

“Maybe he’s sick,” she tried again.

Sofiane grinned. “Maybe he finally had a heart attack, or one of the Omegas snapped and said fuck it, let’s kill this psycho.”

“That’s not funny,” I said.

He shrugged. “I think it’s a little funny.”

I stood. The chair scraped back, and the sound cut through the room sharper than I intended.

“I’ll go check on him,” I said.

Sofiane stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “Take the food with you while you’re at it. Let the rest of us have a comfortable breakfast for once. Goddess knows our other siblings might actually come down if the old man isn’t here to terrorize them.”

I looked at him. “And how many lives of Omegas will that cost?”

His grin faltered.

I turned toward the Omega standing near the sideboard. She had been waiting there the entire time, silent and still, hands clasped in front of her.

“Do well to take my father’s food to him before I get there,” I said.

She nodded immediately and moved fast. Her hands were steady as she loaded the tray, but I saw the tension in her shoulders. She knew what it meant to be late. She had seen what happened to the others.

She had been safe and smart, but that did not seem to matter now that my father did not show up and mistakes like these were not allowed to breathe in Lily of the Valley.

Sofiane watched her leave and then looked back at me.

“Go play heir, boy savior,” he said.

I didn’t dignify that with a response. I just left.

The hallway outside the dining room was cooler. Quieter. My footsteps echoed against the marble as I walked toward my father’s study.

I saw the Omega ahead of me. She was moving quickly, pushing the trolley with both hands, her eyes darting to the small clock mounted on the wall every few steps.

I slowed my pace.

There was no need to rush. She would get there first. That was the point. That was always the point. The Omegas bore the brunt of everything in this place, and if my father was in a mood, better she arrive alone than with me standing behind her like an anvil that father could use to judge and punish her.

She reached the study door and knocked twice in a soft and respectful manner.

A voice from inside told her to enter.

She pushed the door open and guided the trolley inside. I stayed in the hallway, just out of sight, and waited.

Her voice came through faintly. It sounded something like an apology. Something about not realizing earlier that he would be having breakfast in his study.

Then my father’s voice covered the space in quick succession. I expected the worst kind of judgement, only for the man’s voice to come back calm and almost pleasant.

“It matters that you adapted quickly,” he said. “Thank you.”

I blinked.

Thank you?

My father did not say thank you. Not to Omegas. Not to anyone, really, unless there was a political or scary reason for it.

I cleared my throat and stepped into the doorway.

My father looked up. His expression shifted slightly when he saw me. Not a surprise, exactly. More like mild curiosity.

“Lysander,” he said. “What are you doing here? Have you had breakfast?”

“I was worried about you, Father,” I said. “You usually never break routine.”

He set down the cup he had been holding and turned his attention to the Omega.

“You can leave,” he said.

She bowed low and left immediately. The relief on her face was obvious. She had survived this encounter. That was all that mattered to her.

The door clicked shut behind her.

My father leaned back in his chair and studied me for a moment. Then he reached for something on his desk.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“I got a letter,” he said. “I think you need to see this.”

He held it out toward me. There was a photograph clipped to the front of it.

I stepped closer.

The photograph caught my attention first. It was a girl. With beautiful dark hair and the sharpest features one could ever lay eyes on. On those features was a face I knew better than I wanted to admit.

“Fia,” I said.

The name came out before I could stop it.

My father smiled. “The Skollrend – Silvercreek girl you were obsessed with, right?”

I felt my jaw tighten. “Why do you have her picture?”

“It was sent to me,” he said simply.

He held the letter out further. “You should read this.”

I snatched it from his hand and unfolded it.

The handwriting was clean. Deliberate. Every word was placed with intention.

I started reading.

To the Alpha of Lily of the Valley,

I will not waste your time with pleasantries, nor will I insult your intelligence with half-truths. What I am about to place before you is not rumor, not speculation, and not the desperate grasp of a man seeking relevance. It is evidence. Verifiable. Damning. The kind that reshapes alliances and buries bloodlines when handled correctly.

You were not my first choice, but you are the most efficient one available.

My eyes moved faster.

Your position places you in a unique intersection of power and proximity. Close enough to the royal family to be heard, distant enough to act without immediate scrutiny. That balance is rare. It is also precisely why I am writing to you.

I kept reading. The words started to blur together.

Fleshcraft. Human experimentation. Records. Names. Dates. Survivors.

Then I reached the part about the photograph.

Look closely at her.

You will recognize the face, even if you do not wish to. The resemblance is not a coincidence, and it is not harmless. She is one of them. A product of the same work detailed in the records I possess. Not a relic. Not a mistake that was corrected and erased.

She lives.

She holds a title.

She sits as Luna of Skollrend.

My chest felt tight.

I forced myself to keep reading.

And more importantly, she did not rise to that position through ignorance.

Cian Donlon, Alpha of Skollrend, knew what she was when he chose her. He knew what had been done to create her, what she represented, and what her existence defies. He took her as his Luna anyway, binding himself, his pack, and his bloodline to something that stands in direct violation of the laws our kind was built upon and with good reason.

My hands were shaking.

I didn’t realize it at first. But when I looked down, I saw the slight tremor in my fingers where they gripped the edges of the paper.

This is not just corruption. This is complicity.

When this comes to light, it will not remain contained within Skollrend. It will reach the royals. It will force a response. It will demand judgment, not just for those who created such abominations, but for those who knowingly sheltered them and elevated them into positions of power.

The word abominations stuck in my throat like a bone.

I kept reading anyway.

You understand what this means.

The royal family cannot afford to ignore something like this, not if it is presented properly. Not if it comes through the right channel. Not if the evidence is undeniable and the consequences of silence are greater than the consequences of action.

That is where you come in.

The letter went on. Leverage. Standing. Indispensability. All the things my father valued most in this world lay out neatly like bait on a hook.

Then the conditions.

We will speak first.

You will hear what I have, and I will determine whether you are capable of understanding its weight. If you are, you will carry it forward. If you are not, then this ends here, and I find another path.

Do not mistake this for a gamble. I have already begun setting other pieces in motion. This is simply the most efficient route, not the only one.

If you are interested, you will come alone.

Two nights from now.

The old river crossing at Skollrend. You know the one.

If you do not come, I will assume you have chosen irrelevance, and I will proceed accordingly.

Choose carefully.

The signature at the bottom was a single name.

Gabriel.

I stared at it.

Gabriel?