All Chapters of The Omega He Banished : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

124 Chapters

Ronan

Camille's PerspectiveI've suspected this for a long time. There's a strange change in the surroundings whenever they're in the same room—a heavy, magnetic pull that doesn't fit the narrative of simple caution. Of course, I'm not sad about it. In fact, seeing them like this gives me a sudden, intense thrill of joy. I'm the type of person who needs to see things with my own eyes before I can truly believe it, and, seeing Alpha carrying Reylap in her lap was as clear as a full moon.Eliott nearly jumped, his muscles tensing as he quickly moved away from her. The sudden distance between them was almost comical."Oh, stop it," I said, a playful grin playing on my lips as I entered the room. "You know I've seen you two looking so comfortable. Why are you trying to hide it now?"Eliott cleared his throat, adjusting his tunic with a sudden, intense interest in the fabric. "Camille. I didn't hear you coming.""Of course," I teased, setting the bowl of fruit down on the side table. I glanced at

The benefit

Reylap's PerspectiveCamille stayed in the room with me as I walked to the sink. The water felt cool on my skin, helping to calm me after the intense emotions of that morning. I could feel Camille's eyes on my back, watching my every move with a mixture of sisterly concern and the restless energy she always carried."You're taking too long," I said, as I wiped my face and reached for a towel. "Is there anything else, or are you just savoring the silence Eliott left behind?"Camille sighed, adjusting the silk of her skirt. "I'm just making sure you don't faint when I leave. You look pale, Reylap. Even for someone who's just survived a funeral.""I'm fine," I said, patting my skin dry. I faced her, my mind drifting to the sadness still wrapped in the packhouse like a web. "Actually, I need you to do something for me. I want to go to the house of the woman who lost her child. The one at the ceremony this morning. I want to see how she is."Camille frowned. "The mother? Reylap, you've done

Syrn is behind this.

Syrn's PerspectiveThe ink on the parchment had been dry for days, but it felt like it was piercing my mattress.I paced my carpet, my nails digging into my palms. It should have been so simple. I had a special request from Morra. I needed a tragedy, something incurable, a slow-moving disaster that would come right into Reylap's lap. The plan was for Reylap to suddenly rush in with his unbearable "healing skills," fail miserably, and have the entire group call him a murderer."Susmaryosep," I whispered, kicking the corner of my bed.I tried to stop Rika from interfering. I told her to step aside, let the 'professionals' handle the sick child, thinking that if she stayed safe, I could whisper my poison into the ears of the elders without interference. But Rika was supposed to be the hero. He had to intervene, and now the rhythm of the whole plan was off.The child was dead. It was too late. Gone.And the worst part? No one was pointing fingers at Reylap. He wasn’t to blame as I kept rep

Change your clothes.

Camille's Perspective"You're not going to wear that rag for another minute, Reylap. I'm not giving it up," I said, taking her by the elbow and leading her toward the market. The burden of visiting the Kaels' house was enough; the air there smelled of sadness and stale incense. I needed color, I needed noise, and most of all, I needed my friend to stop looking like she was hiding an entire person in a sack.Reylap stumbled slightly, her hand brushing against her growing belly. "Camille, please. It's just one dress. I can do this all week. Besides, I'm really not in the mood for a show.""This isn't a show, it's basic physics," I replied, pulling her toward a row of brightly covered stalls. "Your old clothes don't fit. Your seams are almost bursting, and I don't want you to spend another week wearing clothes that weren't made for a body this far. Look! You're glowing, but your seams are screaming.""They're not screaming," she protested softly, though she didn't move away. She had gotte

Can you kiss me?

Reylap’s PerspectiveThe heavy dinner in the great hall did little to calm my nerves. I hurried back to my room, the silence of the corridor more like persecution than comfort. Navine wasn’t there to greet me; she had gone out earlier with Camille. I knew the plan—Camille needed a shadow, someone to keep watch close by the garden while she met with Ronan. I was left alone with my thoughts, which were too noisy for the quiet room.A sharp, sudden pressure poured down my stomach. “Slowly,” I whispered, clutching my stomach.The puppy began to kick again, but these weren’t the faint flashes from a week ago. These were strong, rhythmic jolts that made it hard for me to breathe. Each hit felt like a reminder of all that was at stake, and frustration spread down my spine. I walked around on the small rug, but my body felt heavy, aching with a need that went beyond physical comfort. I wanted—no, I craved—to be held. I wanted the smell of pine and rain. I wanted Eliott.I found myself standing

Pull Her closer.

Elliott’s PerspectiveThe air in the room seemed to have evaporated the moment those words left his lips. *Can you kiss me?*I sat there, frozen, my heart pounding in my ribs like a trapped beast. Just seconds ago, as I’d massaged his legs, I’d felt an almost irresistible urge to reach up, feel the warmth of his inner thighs and pull him inside me. I’d held back out of sheer respect for him, for the fragile peace we were trying to build. But hearing him ask for it—hearing the vulnerability and need in his voice—stirred me inside.My wolf had become feral. A low, ancient growl began deep in my chest, a quiver of pure, possessive hunger. I wanted to claim him right there, mark him and lose myself in the scent of his skin, but I forced myself to subdue the violence of that desire. My puppy is my burden. He is delicate, and he deserves more than my natural instincts."Reylap," I rasped, my voice gravelly. I didn't give him a chance to retract the request or let his eyes blur with doubt. I

Lucky Pack

Reylap’s PerspectiveEliott stirred beside me, the heavy heat of his body shifting as he sensed my awakening. He pulled me closer, his large hand resting on my stomach, but the movement felt different than usual. There was a hard, quivering tension in his arms, a stiffness that revealed him.“It’s okay,” he whispered into my hair, his voice hoarse with sleep. “You’re with me. You’re safe here, Reylap. No one’s coming in through that window.”I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The assurances felt empty, like air being blown into a broken vessel. I could see from the way his muscles contracted that he no longer fully believed his own words. As intense as he was, his Alpha instincts were screaming at him that our sanctuary had been broken.My mind raced back, looping back to the horrors that had brought us to this bed. I thought of the letter—that jagged, hate-filled handwriting. I thought of the poison, its smell, and the poor child who had died in my place so unintentionally. My stomach clenc

Sleeping with a Rogue

Syrn's PovI couldn't stay in that room for another second. The walls seemed to be closing in, the silence was enough to make me want to scream. I had been lurking for weeks, a shadow in the corners of Eliott's estate, doing everything I could to dispel the suspicions that clung to me like a foul odor. But I was done hiding."Are you really leaving?" Tilda asked, leaning against the doorframe of my closet. Her treatment of me had finally warmed up these past few days, her icy distance melting into a strange, protective concern."I need to, Tilda," I said, reaching for a gown. "I'm rotting in here."Tilda reached over and grabbed my wrist, not hard, but firm enough to make me look at her. Her eyes were searching, desperate. "If you go there and try to kill yourself again—if you pull another stunt like that—I'm leaving, Syrn. I'm running for my life. I won't watch you destroy yourself again."My heart pounded painfully against my ribs. "I'm not looking for a way out tonight. I promise."

Defend a murderer

Eliott's POV The air in the grand hall turned arctic the second the words left Syrn’s mouth. I felt the collective gasp of the visiting dignitaries like a physical blow against my chest. My pulse hammered in my throat, a rhythmic drum of pure, unadulterated fury. I stepped off the dais, my boots clicking sharply against the polished marble. I didn't stop until I was inches from her, my shadow swallowing her whole. "Mind yourself, Syrn," I hissed, the Alpha’s growl vibrating in the back of my throat. I kept my voice low, though I knew the high-strung senses of the wolves around us caught every syllable. "This is a gathering of prestigious people—leaders who command thousands. I will not have you exhibiting your madness in front of them. Not tonight. Not ever." Syrn didn’t flinch. If anything, she stood taller, her eyes bright with a manic sort of triumph. "Madness, Eliott? Is that what we’re calling it now?" "It is what it looks like," I snapped. "I’m not mad," she said, her voic

Slap Syrn

Eliott's POV The sound of her voice—that final, venomous barb about Reylap’s pregnancy—snapped the last thread of my restraint. The room didn’t just go silent; it turned into a vacuum where the only thing I could hear was the frantic pounding of my own heart and the roar of the Alpha within me. I didn't think. I moved. My hand lashed out, the crack of my palm against Syrn’s cheek echoing like a gunshot against the vaulted ceiling. Her head snapped to the side, her red hair whipping across her face. Before she could even gasp, I swung again with my other hand, the second slap even harder than the first. The force of it sent her reeling. I stepped into her space, my fingers bunching into the fabric of her expensive gown, and shoved her with everything I had. Syrn hit the polished floor hard, sliding a few feet before coming to a stop at the boots of a startled Alpha from the Blackwood pack. "I have had enough!" I roared, my voice vibrating with a literal growl that made the glasswa

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