All Chapters of The Omega He Banished : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Reylap's POV "Yellow is not a neutral, Reylap. It’s an assault on the senses," Eliott said, his voice echoing against the bare floorboards of the nursery. He held the lid of the paint can between two fingers like it was a piece of evidence from a crime scene.I leaned back against the doorframe of the spare room he’d cleared out for me weeks ago, crossing my arms over the slight but firm curve of my stomach. "It’s not 'assault yellow.' Camille called it 'Summer Harvest.' It’s warm. It’s cheerful. It doesn't look like the inside of a sterile pack clinic, which is clearly what you’re gunning for with that depressing slate grey.""Grey is sophisticated," he countered, though his gaze softened as it drifted toward my waist. "And Camille has questionable taste in decor. She once tried to convince the Council that neon orange was the color of 'authority'.""She was right about the yellow," I insisted, stepping into the room. "The sunlight hits this corner in the morning. If we paint it you

Elliott’s perspectiveThe warmth of his skin under my palm felt like a brand, a heavy, attached weight that made my wolf purr with a dangerous kind of pleasure. Beneath my hand, the puppy kicked again—a sharp, rhythmic thud into my palm. My heart stuttered. It wasn’t my blood. It wasn’t my heritage. But in the silence of the classroom, with the smell of old parchment and Reylap’s lavender soap surrounding us, that distinction felt thinner than ever.I began to pull my hand away, my fingers shaking as I struggled to break the grip. “I should let you get some rest, Reylap,” I said, my voice sounding more strained than I had intended.His hand immediately tightened around mine, pressing it back against his growing belly. “No,” he whispered, his eyes wide and pleading in the dim light. "Don't leave yet. Just stay close. Please.""Rey," I said, trying to maintain some discipline. "If you stay curled up on this sofa until morning, you're going to wake up really grumpy. Your back hurts, doesn

Reylap’s PerspectiveI stared at the nearly empty jar of pickles in my hand, the salt water trickling slightly as my fingers trembled. The air in the kitchen was thick, filled with the confession Elliott had laid between us. My heart felt like a caged bird, fluttering against my ribs with a swift, hopeful beat. I looked up at him, my eyes burning with the tears I had shed moments earlier.“Is this really it?” I asked, my voice cracking before I forced it to be dry and a little joking. “Is this what you had in mind when you thought about acknowledging the connection? Be honest with me, Elliott.”He didn’t move from his position between my knees. His hands remained on the counter, locking me in, but it wasn’t like a prison. It was like an anchor. “What do you mean?”"The luxury of an Alpha's mate," I said, pointing slightly at a pickle spear. "Have you ever thought of those middle-of-the-night emergencies? Those 3:00 a.m. pickle raids? Have you ever thought of a woman crying because the

Reylap's ViewThe air in the small healer's quarters felt thick, like the atmosphere before a storm. Morra sat by the low fire, her gnarled fingers arranging a pile of dry, gray stems. She didn't look up when I entered, but I knew she felt me there."Did you call me?" I asked, staying close to the door. Instinctively, my hand covered my stomach."Come closer, child," Morra said hoarsely. She didn't turn around. "I'll leave at dawn. Alpha's reception is... limited. But your needs are not.""I have everything I need. Rika takes care of me."Morra let out a dry, flat laugh like grinding stones. "Rika is a midwife. She knows how to catch a puppy. She doesn't know how to handle what you're carrying. You're different, Reylap. The smell of your blood... is heavy. Too heavy."I stepped cautiously, my heart pounding in my ribs. "What are you talking about?""Take this," she said, and finally turned. She handed over a bundle of herbs wrapped in stained parchment. They smelled of damp earth and c

Elliott’s VisionThe air in the room was sour with the coppery smell of blood and the lingering oily smell of decay that had hit Kael. I stood by the window, my back to the small, cold body on the bed. My bag was carried out—Mara’s screams still echoing in my ears like a physical wound—but the silence that remained was worse. It was heavy and accusatory.Rika’s footsteps were faint as she approached. I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t look at the boy again.“Eliott,” she whispered, her voice tight with a tension that was more than just sadness. “Forgive me for what I have to say. I know the timing is… this is terrible. But I have every reason to doubt the healer here.”I felt a cold prickle on my neck. "Elara? Rika, she's a friend of my family. She's been treating our wounded since I was a puppy.""I don't care if she brought you here herself," Rika snorted, entering my peripheral vision. Her hands were still dark, silver paste stuck to her nails. "I didn't like her the moment she walked