To ruin an Omega novel Chapter 487

Chapter 487: Afterglow

FIA

I woke to sunlight streaming through gaps in the heavy curtains. My body felt different. Lighter somehow, though everything ached in that deep-bone way that came after a heat finally burned itself out. The ’fever’ had broken sometime during the night, and now I existed in that strange floaty aftermath where the world felt too bright and too quiet all at once.

Cian’s arm lay draped across my waist. His breathing came slow and even against the back of my neck, each exhale warm enough to make me shiver. I didn’t move. Some part of me wanted to preserve this moment, this fragile pocket of peace we’d carved out together in Moonhaven’s opulent suite.

The sheets tangled around us smelled like sex, sweat and something distinctly us.

His fingers twitched against my stomach. Then his whole body tensed behind me, muscles going rigid in that way they did when he first woke and remembered where he was.

"Fia." My name came out rough, scraped raw from all the things he’d growled and moaned during the heat.

"Morning." I kept my voice soft. My throat hurt too, though I couldn’t tell if that was from screaming or crying or begging. Probably all three.

He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at me. I rolled onto my back and met his gaze. Dark circles shadowed the skin beneath his eyes, and his hair stuck up in about fifteen different directions. He looked wrecked. Beautiful and completely wrecked.

"How do you feel?" He reached up to brush a strand of hair from my face, his touch so careful it made my chest tight.

"Like I got hit by a truck." I managed a small smile. "You?"

"The same." His thumb traced the curve of my cheekbone. "Maybe two trucks."

I laughed, then winced when the movement pulled at muscles I’d forgotten I had. Cian’s expression shifted immediately into concern, that furrow appearing between his brows that I’d learned meant he was cataloging every possible way I might be hurt.

"I’m fine," I said before he could start fussing. "Just sore."

"I wasn’t gentle." He said it like a confession, his gaze dropping to where bruises probably decorated my hips and thighs.

"I didn’t want gentle." The truth of it sat between us, undeniable. "I wanted you."

His eyes snapped back to mine. Something raw flickered across his face, there and gone so fast I might have imagined it. Then he lowered his head and pressed his forehead to mine, breathing me in like he needed to confirm I was real.

We stayed like that for a while. Just existing together in the quiet morning light, learning the shape of each other all over again now that the fever wasn’t burning through us. This felt different from the heat. More intentional somehow. We weren’t being driven by biology, bond magic, or even my pheremones. We chose to be close because we wanted to.

The realization settled over me slowly, warm and terrifying in equal measure.

A knock at the door made us both jump. Cian pulled away, already halfway to defensive mode before I caught his wrist.

"It’s probably just staff," I murmured.

He looked unconvinced but didn’t move to answer. The knock came again, firmer this time.

"Emmm, Alpha Cian? Luna Fia?" A woman’s voice filtered through the heavy wood. "I’m here to collect the dinner trays and bring breakfast. May I enter?"

I glanced at Cian. He looked at me like I should make the decision, because all he had in his eyes was me, and he did not seem to care for breakfast.

"Come in," I called, which I then immediately regretted when I remembered we were both very naked under these sheets.

The door opened to reveal a middle-aged woman in Moonhaven livery, her dark hair pulled into a neat bun. She kept her gaze professionally averted while she maneuvered a cart into the room. The dinner trays from last night still sat untouched on the side table, the food long since gone cold and congealed.

"I’ll just take these," she said, efficiently stacking the dishes. "And leave your breakfast here by the sitting area. Is there anything else you need?"

"We’re fine, thank you." Cian’s voice had taken on that formal tone he used with people he didn’t know well.

The woman nodded, placed a second cart laden with covered dishes near the windows, and slipped back out without another word. The door clicked shut behind her with a soft finality.

I waited until her footsteps faded down the hallway before I let out the breath I’d been holding. Cian made a low sound that might have been amusement.

"We probably should have eaten dinner," he said.

"We were a little busy." The heat crept up my neck even though there was no one here to see it but him.

He grinned, quick and boyish in a way that made him look years younger. Then he threw back the covers and stood, completely unselfconscious in his nakedness. I watched him cross to the bathroom, appreciating the play of muscles under his toned flesh, and the way he moved with that predatory grace even when he was limping slightly from exhaustion.

The shower turned on and steam began to drift through the open doorway.

"Coming?" he called.

I should have felt shy. I should have wanted to hide under the blankets and preserve whatever modesty I had left. Instead, I found myself sliding out of bed and padding across the plush carpet to join him.

The water ran hot enough to sting. Cian stood under the spray with his eyes closed, letting it sluice over his shoulders and down his back. I stepped in behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my cheek between his shoulder blades.

He covered my hands with his. We stood there while the steam built around us. We did not speak. We just stayed there. The shower washed away hours of sweat and sex, but it couldn’t touch what had grown between us during that time. The bond thrummed in my chest, no longer frantic with need but steady and sure.

When we finally emerged, clean and pink from the heat, the breakfast cart was waiting. Cian found a robe for each of us hanging in the closet, and we settled into the chairs by the windows with all the grace of newborn foals.

I lifted one of the silver domes to reveal eggs and bacon, fresh bread and jam, sliced fruit arranged in careful patterns. My stomach growled loud enough that Cian heard it across the table. His mouth twitched.

"Eat," he said.

I picked up a piece of bacon, then stopped. Something about the domesticity of this moment struck me sideways. We’d rarely done this.

We had never had a leisurely breakfast together, in matching robes while morning light in a top tier getaway suite turned everything golden.

"What?" Cian asked when he noticed me staring.

"Nothing." I bit into the bacon, the salt and fat exploding across my tongue. "This is just nice."

"Nice." He repeated the word like he was testing out a new language. Then he reached for his own plate, piling eggs onto toast with the focused intensity he brought to everything.

We ate in comfortable silence for a while. I found myself sneaking glances at him between bites, cataloging the small changes in his expression. The way his shoulders had lost some of their rigid tension. The softness around his eyes when he looked at me. The fact that he’d let himself relax enough to slouch slightly in his chair.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked eventually.

He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "How different this is. How different everything is now."

"I’m serious," I said, even as my lips twitched. "Because you don’t just... say things like that. You barely even say nice things without a sarcastic disclaimer."

"That was high praise," he said, completely unashamed. "You were having a great day."

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