To ruin an Omega - Chapter 495: Good spirits 2

FIA

I didn’t know what to say to that. The weight of his words pressed against my chest, making it hard to breathe.

“I couldn’t even guess you were remotely connected to Pauline.”

My heart stopped.

“What?”

“The call I had with my father-in-law revealed that.” He let out a breath that crackled through the phone’s speaker. “Your mother was a lost apple of Northern Ridge’s Nocturne, and because of Pauline, she didn’t get to live a decent life.”

The pieces clicked together with sickening clarity. He knew it all already.

“She never got to live it with you either.”

The accusation hung between us. Father didn’t deny it.

“I know.” His voice cracked on the second word. “It seems what I deserve is to be alone.”

I hated the way pity unfurled in my chest at those words. I hated that some part of me still cared enough to feel sorry for him. Because there was no greater suffering than bone-deep loneliness, and I knew he spoke the truth.

He’d lost everything. Both his wives and his daughters. He stood in the ruins of his own making, surrounded by ghosts and regrets.

“There will be a triple funeral tomorrow at Nocturne.” He cleared his throat. “With Pauline, Hazel, and Isobel.”

“Why Nocturne and not Silvercreek?”

“Your mother suffered in life.” The statement came out gentle, almost reverent. “It would be cruel to let her rest with someone who brought her pain. I’m not that heartless.”

I closed my eyes. Felt the car take a curve, my body swaying slightly with the momentum.

“It’s also clear that your grandfather wants you to be there.”

Of course he did. The grandfather I’d never met, who’d only recently learned of my existence. Who’d discovered his unknown daughter had an unknown child and that he’d been kept from knowing about them for decades.

“Though I know you’ll refuse.”

“No.” The word came out before I’d fully thought it through. “I will be there.”

Silence greeted my declaration.

“On my mother’s memory and my grandmother’s memory, they would want that.”

The pause stretched longer this time. I heard him breathing, heard the faint sound of movement like he’d shifted position.

“I’ll see you there then.”

Another pause came. This one felt heavier somehow, weighted with all the things we’d never say to each other.

“For what it’s worth, I hope you have a good life, Fia.”

The line went dead.

I lowered the phone and stared at it for a long moment. The screen dimmed, then went black. My reflection stared back at me from the darkened glass, my eyes were hollow and my expression was blank.

“Fia.” Cian’s voice pulled me back. “What happened?”

I turned to look at him. His attention stayed fixed on the road, but tension radiated from every line of his body. His jaw was set, shoulders rigid, hands still gripping the wheel like he needed something solid to hold onto.

“Hazel’s dead.” The words felt strange in my mouth. “So is Isobel.”

He didn’t react with surprise. Father must have told him that much during their brief exchange.

“How?”

“Apparently, Lily of the Valley sent Hazel back in pieces. She killed their Alpha.” I watched his profile, looking for some sign of what he was thinking. “Isobel killed herself after.”

“Fuck.” He exhaled the word slowly. “And your father called to tell you this?”

“Among other things.” I set my phone down in the cupholder between us. “He has also found out that I am a daughter of Nocturne pack as well.”

Cian processed that information in silence. I watched the landscape change outside my window, rolling hills giving way to denser forest.

“There’s a funeral tomorrow,” I continued. “Well… A triple burial. Pauline, Hazel, Isobel. At Nocturne.”

“Are you going?”

“Yes.”

He glanced at me then, quick and assessing. “You sure?”

“My grandfather wants me there. And I have a feeling that my mother, wherever she is, she’d want me to honor that invitation.” I leaned my head back against the seat. “Besides, I need to see it. Need to know it’s real. For me and for those who have suffered before me.”

“That they’re actually dead.”

“That they can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

The distinction mattered. Cian seemed to understand that because he nodded and reached across the center console to take my hand. His fingers laced through mine, warm and solid and real.

We drove in silence for a while. The road stretched ahead of us, familiar and strange at the same time. Everything felt different now. The world had shifted while we were wrapped up in each other at Moonhaven, and now we were returning to find the landscape fundamentally changed.

“Do you think Lysander killed her?” I asked eventually. “Hazel, I mean.”

Cian’s thumb traced patterns across my knuckles. “Does it matter?”

“I don’t know.” I watched our joined hands. “Mother’s foresight came true. She saw this coming. But I can’t help wondering if he orchestrated it or if Hazel really was reckless enough to try something like that.”

“Knowing Hazel?” Cian’s voice carried dark amusement. “She was absolutely reckless enough.”

He wasn’t wrong. Hazel had spent her entire life taking what she wanted without considering consequences. She’d framed me, killed a sentinel, and tried to have me murdered. Trying and succeeding to kill an Alpha didn’t seem that far outside her established pattern of behavior.

“Your mother’s foresight showed you surviving,” Cian said quietly. “That’s what matters. The rest is just cleanup.”

Cleanup. Such a clinical word for the death of two people who’d made my life hell.

“I should feel something,” I said. “Shouldn’t I? Relief, or satisfaction, or even guilt. But there’s just… nothing.”

“You feel exactly what you’re supposed to feel.” He squeezed my hand. “They hurt you for years. Made your life miserable. You don’t owe them grief.”

The truth of that settled over me slowly. He was right. I didn’t owe them anything, least of all tears.

“The funeral is tomorrow,” I said. “Will you come?”

“Of course. We’ll handle it.” Cian brought my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. “Together.”

The word wrapped around me like a promise. Together.

I turned my hand in his grip and laced our fingers properly together.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

“For what?”

“For picking up the phone. For defending me to him. For not asking me to feel things I don’t feel.”

He smiled, quick and genuine. “That’s what mates do, right? Have each other’s backs.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s what mates do.”