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홈 / Werewolf / The omega's slient vendetta / Chapter 31

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Chapter 31

작가: lavy
last update 게시일: 2026-03-16 22:10:22

(Julian’s POV)

​The warehouse was too quiet. It was the kind of silence that ate at a man’s sanity, thick with the scent of oil, old brick, and the crushing absence of the woman I’d just left behind.

​I paced the length of the loft, my boots echoing like gunfire against the floorboards. Every instinct I possessed—every drop of Alpha blood in my veins—was screaming at me to go back. To kick down Malakai’s door, snatch Elara from his side, and remind him that some th
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  • The omega's slient vendetta   Chapter 39

    (Elara’s POV) ​The sunlight filtering through the high, reinforced windows of the warehouse wasn't the usual oppressive London grey. It was almost... cheerful. Which was a problem, because I didn't do "cheerful." I did "high-stakes encryption" and "running for my life." ​I woke up on the oversized velvet sofa, my head resting on something warm, firm, and steadily rising and falling. It took my sleep-fogged brain exactly three seconds to realize that the "something" was Julian’s chest. ​He was still asleep, his jaw relaxed, looking less like the terrifying High Alpha of the Blackwood Pack and more like a very large, very expensive rug. His arm was draped over the back of the sofa, effectively pinning me into the crook of his shoulder. ​I tried to slide away, but his grip tightened instinctively in his sleep. ​"Don't," he mumbled, his voice a deep, gravelly vibration against my ear. "The Ghost isn't allowed to vanish before breakfast." ​"The Ghost needs coffee, Julian. And the Gho

  • The omega's slient vendetta    Chapter 39

    (Elara’s POV) ​The heavy, reinforced doors of the warehouse hissed shut, sealing out the London rain and the echoing whispers of the High Court. Inside, the air was different—filtered, cool, and smelling of ozone and the faint, sweet scent of the tea Malakai had brewed in the med-suite. ​For the first time in five years, the silence didn't feel like a predatory animal waiting to strike. It felt like a truce. ​I leaned my forehead against the cool metal of the door, my shoulders dropping inches as the adrenaline finally began to drain from my system. My heart was still hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, but the sharp, jagged edges of the "Ghost" were starting to soften. ​"He did it," Malakai’s voice came from the shadows of the lounge area. He was sitting on the edge of a crate, his face ashen, clutching a heated compress to his neck. "He knelt, Elara. A Blackwood King knelt in the Well of Truth for a 'Glitch' and her mother. I never t

  • The omega's slient vendetta    Chapter 38

    The Hall erupted. Malakai moved closer to Elara, his hand on his belt, his eyes darting across the room. He was the predator in the tall grass, waiting for the first sign of a crossbolt. ​The Arch-Elder pounded his gavel. "Order! Julian, the evidence of the 'Synthetic' tether is undeniable. By Council law, a child created through such means is subject to termination or study. You cannot claim a bond that was forced by a laboratory." ​I looked at Elara. She was looking at the Elders, her chin high, but I saw the moisture in her eyes. She was waiting for the rejection. She was waiting for me to step back and save myself. ​Instead, I let go of her hand. I walked to the center of the Well, directly under the light of the moon-well in the ceiling. ​"You want to talk about bonds?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet. "You want to talk about what is 'forced' and what is 'natural'?" ​I reached up and tore open the front of my shirt, exposing the raw, jagged scar on my chest—the one

  • The omega's slient vendetta    chapter 37

    (Julian’s POV) ​The High Council’s Citadel in London was a gothic monstrosity of black granite and reinforced steel, designed to make everyone who entered feel like an ant beneath a boot. It was the seat of the Law. The place where the "Purity" of the shifter race was weighed on gold scales, and where "Glitches" were usually erased without a second thought. ​I stepped out of the black armored SUV, the rain lashing against my tailored coat. I didn’t wait for my security detail. I walked around to the other side and opened the door myself. ​Elara stepped out, her face a mask of cold, sharp marble. She wore a high-collared dress of deep charcoal silk—no jewelry, no dampeners, no "Ghost" tech. She was letting her natural scent, faint as it was, breathe for the first time in years. Behind her, Malakai emerged from the chase car. He looked like death warmed over, his face pale and his neck bandaged, but he moved with a lethal, quiet grace. He was my rival, the man who had held my family

  • The omega's slient vendetta    Chapter 36

    (Julian’s POV)​The rain in London didn’t just fall; it judged.​I stood outside the warehouse, my knuckles white against the steering wheel. The tablet from the boardroom sat on the passenger seat, its screen glowing with cold, clinical sequences that made my heart feel like it was being compressed by a hydraulic press.​Synthetic. Engineering. Genetic Bypass.​The words were poison. But as I watched the silhouette of Elara moving behind the frosted glass, my wolf didn't growl in betrayal. He whined. He remembered the way she had looked at Maya—the raw, bone-deep exhaustion of a woman who had carried a miracle through a graveyard.​I stepped out into the downpour. I didn't want the beast’s rage; I wanted the man’s truth.​When I pushed through the heavy steel doors, the scent hit me. It wasn't the "Void" anymore. The dampeners were low, and the air was thick with the smell of healing and old, stagnant grief. Elara was at the med-suite door, but she wasn't alone.​Malakai was there,

  • The omega's slient vendetta   Chapter 35

    (Julian’s POV) The Blackwood Boardroom usually smelled of expensive espresso and cold ambition. Tonight, it smelled of ozone and my impending wrath. I didn’t take the elevator. I shifted in the stairwell, the transformation jagged and painful, and kicked the double oak doors off their hinges. I was back in a suit—black, tailored, and hiding the bandages on my shoulder—but my eyes were still hemorrhaging gold. The three men sitting at the obsidian table froze. These were my elders. My "advisors." The men who had whispered that an Omega like Elara was a liability to the bloodline five years ago. "Julian," Arthur, the eldest, stammered, clutching a tablet to his chest. "We were just reviewing the London reports. We heard about the girl—" "You heard she’s alive," I interrupted, my voice a low, terrifying vibration that made the water in their glasses ripple. I walked to the head of the table, leaning over the polished stone. "And you heard I found the Architect’s clearance codes. C

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