To ruin an Omega novel Chapter 233

Chapter 233: Encore

HAZEL

My fingers traced lazy circles on Baruch’s chest. His skin was still warm, still damp with sweat. The rhythm of his heartbeat thrummed beneath my palm.

"I’m going to have to marry pretty soon," I said.

His chest rose with a breath. "To that Alpha heir?"

I nodded against him. "He was a choice on my mind for the yearly shifter ball. I didn’t think it would be remotely possible if I’m being honest." My finger paused mid-circle. "But the universe still paid me in kind despite what Fia tried to do. Despite what the goddess punished me with."

The words tasted bitter. I swallowed them down.

"I would much have preferred being able to keep my born title," I continued. "Lysander. That’s his name, by the way. He’s strange. I feel uneasy about him." My stomach twisted just thinking about it. "He seems like the kind that would make you work for anything you want from him. And it doesn’t help matters that he basically confirmed he was in love with my sister. Can you believe that? What even does Fia have that would make anyone that fixated on her? Crazy part is they met once. Perhaps there is something about that bitch I have yet to discover."

Baruch said nothing. His silence stretched between us like a held breath.

"The marriage will be a loveless one," I continued. "I know he won’t touch me."

I then tilted my head to look up at Baruch’s face. Really look at him. "I don’t think I can live a life without pleasure."

A smile curved my lips. It felt good there. Natural.

"It’s a good thing I have you though."

Baruch moved. It was not the gentle shift of a lover adjusting positions. No, he pushed me off him entirely. I stumbled to the side as he stood, the mattress dipping and rising with the sudden movement.

He reached for his clothes.

Something cold settled in my chest. Something wrong.

"Did I say something wrong?" I asked.

He pulled on his briefs. Then his pants. The fabric rustled in the quiet room. He didn’t look at me.

"No," he said.

"I can feel something off now." I sat up, pulling the sheet around myself. "Don’t tell me no."

"What’s off?" He asked.

"Well... We had sex and you just became cold. I thought you knew what this arrangement was. You please me and that’s it."

He grabbed his shirt from where it had been discarded on the floor. The muscles in his back flexed as he pulled it over his head. Then he turned and walked toward me. Each step was measured and deliberate.

He stopped at the edge of the bed.

"I am very knowledgeable about what our arrangement is. Are you?"

His eyes met mine. They were different now. Harder and devoid of the warmth they used to hold. Was I just reading too much I to this?

I scoffed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You sound like you’re in love with me."

Heat flared in my cheeks. Anger and something else I didn’t want to name. "Don’t flatter yourself."

"What is the point of fantasizing about keeping me around when you can find another willing low born who is willing to climb up to the occasion at Lily of the Valley?" His voice was flat. Empty. "So don’t fantasize about playing house with me."

My nerves started to burn. That familiar fire that came before I did something reckless. Something I might regret.

"What if I am?" The words came out sharper than I intended. "I know you like me too. I know you love me." I leaned forward. "Has that changed because I’m no longer a Luna? You like the thrill of having a woman leagues beyond you and—"

He leaned in. Close enough that I could see the flecks of the color brown in his eyes. Close enough to kiss.

"Love you?" His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Who could ever love you?"

Pain exploded at my neck. Sharp and sudden and wrong. I gasped, my hand flying to the spot. When I turned my head, I saw it.

A syringe. In Baruch’s hand. And the worst part, it was empty.

My eyes went wide. I opened my mouth to scream, to shout, to demand answers, but his hand clamped over my lips. He forced me back onto the bed, his weight pinning me down. His palm pressed hard against my mouth, cutting off any sound I might have made.

Fear crashed through me. Real fear. The kind that made my heart hammer against my ribs and my breath come in short, panicked bursts through my nose.

"I do not love you," he said. His voice was calm. Too calm. "I never have. But I am so glad I gave you such a beautiful performance."

Fresh tears poured down my cheeks. They soaked into the pillow beneath my head. I couldn’t even lift my hand to wipe them away.

"You monster," I whispered.

He paused at the door and looked back at me one last time.

"It takes one to know one."

Then he was gone. The door clicked shut behind him. The sound echoed in the sudden silence.

I lay there, unable to move. Unable to do anything but stare at the ceiling and feel the tears slide down into my hair. My body felt foreign, disconnected. The drug coursed through my veins like poison even though he’d said it wasn’t.

Everything hurt. Not physically. Not yet. But somewhere deeper. Somewhere I hadn’t realized was still vulnerable.

He’d played me. He used me. He took everything I’d given him and laughed while doing it.

And I’d let him. I’d trusted him. I’d thought...

What had I thought? That he actually cared? That what we had meant something?

When had that even happen? When did my heart soften for him?

The room spun. Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision.

I’d killed his brother. I knew that. I remembered Milo. Remembered the way his blood had looked on my hands after I took a picture of his head. I’d told myself he deserved it. The fool was going to out me

Now in the grand scheme of things, it felt like it didn’t even matter.

It all came out in the end.

Though this one hurt. More than I would even like to admit.

The thought followed me down into unconsciousness. Down into the dark where I couldn’t escape it.

Betrayal tasted like blood coupled with tears and the ghost of kisses that had never meant anything at all.