To ruin an Omega - Chapter 462: Stars in your eyes

Chapter 462: Stars in your eyes

FIA

I sat propped against the headboard, a cup of tea balanced in my hands. The Omega who had been attending to me hovered nearby, refilling the pot even though I hadn’t asked.

The door opened, and Cian walked in.

His eyes found mine immediately. Something in his expression shifted when he saw me there, safe and whole and drinking tea like a normal person.

The Omega noticed him too. She set the teapot down carefully and bowed.

“I’ll leave you both to talk, Alpha Cian.”

And then she left before either of us could respond. The door clicked shut behind her with soft finality.

Cian crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him. Close enough that the bond hummed between us with comfortable familiarity.

“How are you feeling?”

I took a sip of tea. The warmth spread through my chest in a way that had nothing to do with temperature.

“Tired. Sore. Alive.” I set the cup on the nightstand. “Better now that you’re here, though.”

He reached for my hand. His fingers threaded through mine and squeezed gently.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “About getting away for a while. Taking you somewhere we can breathe without worrying about the next disaster.”

“Next disaster?”

“Well… Not in that sense. It is just that heat season is coming and…”

I tilted my head, studying his face. “What did you have in mind?”

I had completely forgotten about heat season if I was being honest. There had been a lot more on my mind than biological imperative.

“There’s a place called Moonhaven. It’s a resort built specifically for werewolves. Private suites. Heavy security. Beautiful grounds.” His thumb traced circles against the back of my hand. “It’s popular during heat season. Designed for mated pairs who want isolation and, most importantly, safety. For both parties.”

The implication settled over me slowly. I knew why he was behaving this way. The biological imperative that hit Omegas hardest. The time when pheromones and instinct took over in ways that could be overwhelming for everyone involved.

“The heat is that close?”

“Yes. We have tomorrow to leave. Omegas usually feel it first.” His eyes searched my face. “Do you feel any different?”

I looked at him. Really looked at him. Took in the concern written across his features and the careful way he held himself. Like he was bracing for something difficult.

Then I smiled.

“How different am I supposed to feel?”

The words came out teasing. Light. I watched his expression shift as he processed the question and decided whether I was being serious or not.

He didn’t bite. Instead, he rubbed my hand again, and his gaze dropped to where our fingers were joined.

“I did wonder what it was like for you in Silvercreek,” he said quietly. “Given how your father was, would he have made provisions? Did he?”

The question pulled something tight in my chest. Memories I hadn’t touched in a while surfaced unbidden. My father’s coldness and what he supposedly called practicality.

“He did.” I kept my voice even. “I guess I could say he loved my mother in a way. He made sure I had what I needed during heat seasons while she was alive. It would soil an Alpha’s honor if your second bride was taken by another man in the ’heat’ of the moment because of her nature. Not that his solution was kind. It consisted of locked rooms… Suppressants when necessary.”

Cian’s jaw tightened slightly.

“However, when my mother passed, he stopped.” The words came easier than I expected. “Not that there was any issue at that point. I had a mate by then.”

The bond flared hot and sharp between us. Jealousy poured through it before Cian could lock it down. The emotion hit me square in the chest and made my breath catch.

I squeezed his hand.

“All that is in the past, though.” I shifted closer, bringing our joined hands up between us. “I’m glad I will spend this moment with you. Not him. Not anyone else. Just you.”

Some of the tension bled from his shoulders. He looked at me again, and something vulnerable flickered across his face.

“I’m afraid,” he admitted. “Of how rough I could be. The beast doesn’t always listen to reason during heat. Especially with Omega pheromones involved.” He paused. “You’ll most likely have to use the provisions.”

“Provisions?” I asked.

“Yeah. Moonhaven makes provisions for platinum chains in its suite. I believe it will come in handy as I don’t want to hurt you or the baby.”

The concern in his voice made something warm bloom in my chest. I couldn’t help it. I chuckled.

“I don’t think it will get to that.”

He laughed too. The sound came surprised and genuine. Like he hadn’t expected me to find any humor in the situation.

“You say that now,” he said. “Wait until you’re actually in the middle of it.”

I leaned forward and kissed him.

Our lips met like we’d both waited too long. There was nothing careful about it. He kissed me with heat, with intent, and I felt it settle deep in my chest. I opened for him without thinking, and it shifted, slower now but heavier, like neither of us was willing to be the one who pulled away.

His hands came up to my face, steady, holding me there. His thumbs moved along my jaw, not rushed, just there, and it made something in me tighten. I leaned in closer, almost without noticing, my body already choosing this before my head could catch up.

“If you’re so terrified of losing control to your beast,” I said when I pulled back, “there’s something we can try.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “What?”

I cupped his face in both hands, feeling the slight roughness of stubble against my palms. I looked into his eyes and let myself smile in a way that had nothing to do with innocence.

“I did read somewhere that release does help calm the beast beforehand. If there’s nothing pent up, there’s no need for violent release later.”

Understanding dawned across his features. Heat followed immediately after. His eyes darkened, and his breathing changed rhythm.

“Where did you read that?”

“Do you care?”

I kissed him again before he could answer.

This time it wasn’t soft or reassuring. This time, I poured intention into it. Let him feel exactly what I was offering, what I wanted.

His hands came up to my waist. Fingers pressed into the fabric of my dress with just enough pressure to make my pulse jump. The kiss deepened and his tongue swept against mine in a way that sent heat pooling low in my belly.

I made a small sound against his mouth. Something between a sigh and a moan that I didn’t fully intend but couldn’t stop. His grip tightened in response, and suddenly I was being pulled forward. Onto his lap. Straddling him with my knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his hips.

The position brought us impossibly closer. I could feel every line of his body against mine. Could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against me through too many layers of clothing.

I broke the kiss to catch my breath. His mouth moved to my jaw instead. Trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of my neck that made my head fall back and my eyes close.

“Cian.”

His name came out breathless… Wanting.

His teeth grazed the spot where my neck met my shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin, but enough to make me shiver. The bond thrummed between us and carried sensation back and forth until I couldn’t tell where my pleasure ended, and his began.

My hands found their way into his hair. I gripped the strands and tugged gently, guiding his mouth back up to mine. The kiss that followed turned fierce, as it was demanding. We consumed each other with an urgency that had been building since everything settled, and we finally had space to feel something other than fear and adrenaline.

I rolled my hips against him. The friction made us both groan. His hands slid from my waist to my hips and held me there while he ground up into me with deliberate pressure.

“Fuck,” he breathed against my mouth.

I smiled and did it again. Slower this time. Dragging out the sensation until his fingers dug into my hips hard enough to leave marks.

“You’re going to kill me,” he said.

“I thought that was the point.” I kissed the corner of his mouth. “Wear you out now so you don’t lose control later.”

He laughed. The sound came rough and strained but genuine.

“I don’t think anything could wear me out when it comes to you.”

His hands moved up my sides. Fingers traced the curve of my ribs through my dress before finding the zipper at my back. He pulled it down slowly, and the sound of it seemed impossibly loud in the quiet room.

The fabric loosened around my shoulders. I shifted back just enough to let it fall and pool around my waist. His eyes dropped immediately, and heat flooded the bond so intensely it made my breath catch.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

Then his mouth was on my collarbone. Kissing and sucking and leaving marks that would definitely be visible tomorrow. I didn’t care. Let everyone see. Let them know exactly who I belonged to and who belonged to me.

My hands went to his shirt. I worked the buttons free with trembling fingers that didn’t want to cooperate properly. He helped when my patience ran out, yanking the fabric over his head and tossing it somewhere behind us.

Skin against skin felt electric. The warmth of him against me made everything sharper. More intense. I traced the lines of scar tissue across his chest where Valentine’s air blades had pierced through. The wounds had healed completely, but the memory remained.

“I almost lost you,” I whispered.

His hands came up to frame my face. Gentle despite the desire burning in his eyes.

“You didn’t.” He kissed me softly. “I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”

I believed him. Felt the truth of it through the bond and in the way he held me like I was something precious and irreplaceable.

The kiss deepened again. His tongue swept into my mouth and I met him eagerly. My hands explored the planes of his chest and shoulders and back while his did the same. Learning and relearning every curve and hollow. Every place that made the other gasp or moan or press closer.

When his hand slid higher and cupped my breast, I arched into the touch. His thumb brushed over my nipple, and pleasure sparked straight down my spine. I broke the kiss to breathe and he took advantage. His mouth moved lower and replaced his hand with wet heat that made my vision blur.

“Cian.”

His name came out desperate. Pleading.

He looked up at me with dark eyes and swollen lips.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You.” The word came out simple and absolute. “Just you.”

He smiled against my skin. Then he shifted our positions in one smooth movement. My back hit the mattress, and he settled between my legs with his weight pressing me down in the best possible way.

“That,” he said, kissing me again, “I can definitely do.”

His mouth lingered on mine, slower now, like he was savoring it instead of chasing it. His hands were still on me, still holding, but something shifted in his expression. Not less desire, just a flicker of awareness cutting through it.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as he exhaled.

“We should move,” he murmured, his voice rough but steadier now. “We’re still covered in grime and dried blood.”

The words settled between us, breaking through the haze just enough to make me notice it too. The stiffness of my dress. The faint metallic scent clinging to my skin. Everything we had pushed aside.

I nodded, still a little breathless, my hands resting against his chest. “Yeah.”

For a second, neither of us moved. The tension didn’t disappear; it just shifted, stretched thinner, waiting.

His thumb brushed along my cheek once more before he helped me up, his grip lingering a second longer than necessary. When I stood, my dress still pooled loosely around my waist, my skin warm under his gaze.

“Bathroom,” he said.