To ruin an Omega novel Chapter 301

Chapter 301: Da rules 2

HAZEL

"Oh." He laughed, an easy sound that made it clear he found this entertaining. "You haven’t been told yet. I guess you’re still fresh. They want you to feel good first."

He waved a hand in the air as though dismissing me, or blessing me, or maybe both. It was hard to tell with him.

"We’ll meet again, I guess. Maybe then you’ll be more receptive to me."

He brushed past me on his way down the corridor, his shoulder bumping mine just enough to feel deliberate. The smell of pot grew stronger for a second and then thinned out as he disappeared around the corner.

"Weirdo," I muttered under my breath once he was gone.

I kept walking without much sense of direction. Every hallway bled into the next, the same marble floors stretching beneath my feet, the same dark wood paneling climbing the walls, the same endless line of paintings filled with people I did not know doing things I did not care about. It felt like walking through a museum built for someone else’s memories.

The realization settled slowly and uncomfortably that I had no idea where I was going. Every turn looked like the last one. Every corridor stretched out with the same quiet confidence, as if the estate expected people to simply know their way around. I did not.

An Omega appeared from a side hallway before I could decide whether to turn back and admit defeat. She slowed when she noticed me, her expression shifting into a polite smile that felt practiced and careful. She dipped into a small bow, respectful but not exaggerated.

"The bride to be?" she asked.

I nodded, still trying to decide how strange it felt to hear the title spoken aloud by someone who had never met me before.

"I don’t know where my room is," I admitted. The words felt awkward leaving my mouth, like I was confessing something I should have figured out already.

Her smile did not falter. If anything, it softened. "Of course. You’re still settling in. Your temporary room is at the end of this corridor, then the second turn to the right. You’ll see a black door. That one is yours."

A black door. The detail stuck in my head immediately, sharp and specific against the blur of everything else.

"Thank you," I said, meaning it more than I expected.

She bowed again before continuing down the hall, leaving me with directions that finally felt like something solid to follow.

Door after door passed by on either side. Each one looked more elaborate than the last, decorated with ornate handles and intricate carvings. Some had little alcoves carved into the walls beside them, complete with chairs or tables or vases that looked too fragile to survive real use. Everything about those doors said importance, said ownership, said someone mattered enough to claim space like this.

Then I saw the black door.

It was smaller than the rest and painfully plain. No carvings, no decorative handle, nothing to make it fit the grandeur surrounding it. It stood out precisely because it did not belong.

I slowed as I approached, curiosity pushing past the unease already sitting in my chest. The handle felt cold when I touched it, and it creaked when I pushed the door open. The sound scraped against my nerves, loud enough to make me wince.

I glanced back down the hallway, half expecting someone to appear and demand an explanation.

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