All Chapters of The Omega's Choice : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

"But do you really think he'd do this with the thought of putting you in danger?" Silas muses as he takes stock of his various balms and herbs, his brow furrowed in thought. "I am in danger," I grind out, the words heavy with frustration. "We both are, and we all know how psychotic his mother is." My voice is tight, strained. The fear is a cold knot in my stomach that won't loosen."Look," he says, setting his notes down and turning fully to face me, his gaze serious. "I know it's an unreasonable thing to do, especially when you've both been at the brink of death in the hands of the same women he just released, but this is the only chance you both have to be paid for the wrong done to you both. To truly expose them.""He has the recordings from the call with Lior!" I snap, my voice rising. "He could have just used those!""He gave him his word, Tamsin. Why would he break it now?" Silas asks, his tone calm, unwavering."Because Lior is a devil that kills people to make money?" I chall

The night hums around me, a symphony of purpose and anticipation. The pack house itself feels like a living thing, every creak of the floorboards, every hushed conversation, every beating heart contributing to the electric thrum in the air. We’re all holding our breath, a collective pause before the grand exhale of celebration. But even amidst the joyful buzz, the shadows of the council vote and Selene’s return stretch long, a persistent chill that refuses to dissipate. Some still cling to the delusion that Zara and Selene are innocent, their dissenting whispers a discordant note in the harmony of preparations. The friction is palpable, yet surprisingly, the work continues smoothly.I don't care much for the whispers bcause tonight, I become Nox’s mate, and that's all that matters.I stand in the center of my room, a quiet eye in the storm of activity. A small circle of women surrounds me, their faces a mix of familiar kindness and new, unfamiliar gazes. Their hands move with prac

The silence in my head is loud, a roaring void where Cyan’s frantic warnings once echoed. Now, he’s quiet, too quiet, leaving only the frantic, thudding beat of my own heart to fill the emptiness. Last night, our world came crashing down. My stupidity, my arrogance, my failure to anticipate their move—it all put Tamsin’s life on the line. Now she’s teetering on the threshold of death, and I’m consumed by a guilt that gnaws at my very core.I told myself I was going to be there to prevent her from getting hurt. I promised her I would never let anything or anyone hurt her again. Where are those promises now? They’re shattered, just like the wine glass that held the poison meant to kill her. Hate flows through me. Raw and untempered. It’s a burning river, forging a new path through my soul.The corridors of the dungeon echo with the hard fall of my boots. I’m not walking—I’m storming, fury pouring off me in invisible waves, my eyes darker than the hallway torches burning at either side

A week. One agonizing week since we arrived in Rome. Since Tamsin's poisoning.Every minute has been a torment, a constant battle against the crushing weight of guilt and fear. Now, here we are, in the royal council chambers, the air thick with tension, the fate of my mother and Zara hanging in the balance."Luna Selene of Lunaris, you stand here accused of the murder of your mate, the illegal use of lead, manipulating the mate bond between Alpha Nox and Tamsin, using it to your advantage to usurp the Alpha title and put your own self-thought candidate, bearing false allegations against Tamsin and the attempted murder of Tamsin. What do you have to say to this?"The voice of the lead elder echoes through the grand hall. My mother stands in the cubicle, her posture stiff, unyielding. She doesn't say anything. Not a word. "You're being asked a question, Selene," Queen Lyra orders, but my mother stays stiffly silent, a defiant smirk playing on her lips, her eyes cold and calculating.

"Hush little baby don't you cry, daddy's gonna buy you a diamond ring," Nox sings, his voice a surprisingly melodic rumble, slightly off-key but full of genuine warmth. He bounces our daughter gently in his arms, his strong hands cradling her tiny form. Our little girl, at only two weeks old, has the strongest lungs and the sharpest cries I've ever heard from a baby. She can go from angelic sleep to ear-splitting wails in milliseconds, and I'm sure the entire pack house don't sleep at night because of that.The morning sun pours in, soft and golden, through the large windows of our bed chamber, painting everything in a light that feels warmer than it ever used to. It spills across the plush rug, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, and settles on the breakfast spread laid out on a low table by the window. The scent of eggs, savory sausage, and sweet waffles wafts throughout the room, a delightful symphony for my nose.I'm perched on the edge of a plush armchair, sipping the