To ruin an Omega novel Chapter 496

Chapter 496: The funeral 1

FIA

The road to Nocturne stretched longer than the map suggested it would. Trees gave way to rolling hills that looked painted onto the landscape, too perfect to be real. The further north we drove, the more the architecture changed. Silvercreek had favored function over form—squat buildings built to withstand harsh winters, practical and unremarkable. Skollrend leaned into old-world grandeur and wealth with its stone keeps and defensive walls.

Nocturne was something else entirely.

The pack territory announced itself through wrought iron gates that curved into elaborate patterns depicting wolves running beneath a crescent moon. Beyond them, cobblestone streets wound between buildings that belonged in a European fairy tale. Steep-pitched roofs covered in dark slate, pale stone walls that caught the afternoon light, window boxes overflowing with late-season flowers. Everything looked meticulously maintained, like someone had frozen a moment in time and refused to let it age.

"It’s beautiful," I said.

Cian’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. "It’s showy."

"Well.. I thought the same with Skollrend once. Can’t it be both?"

He made a noncommittal sound. His jaw had been tight since we crossed the border, tension radiating from him in waves I could almost see. This wasn’t his territory. These weren’t his people. And I was about to walk into a room full of strangers who would judge my every move and every expression that crossed my face.

The church sat at the heart of the territory, its spire visible from half a mile away. White stone gleamed against the gray sky, and stained glass windows caught what little sunlight managed to break through the clouds. Cian pulled into a lot already half-full of expensive cars.

I took a breath and let it out slowly.

"You don’t have to do this," he said.

"I know."

"We can turn around right now. Drive back to Skollrend. Tell them you got sick or the car broke down or—"

"Cian." I reached over and laced my fingers through his. "I need to do this."

He studied my face like he was looking for cracks in my resolve. Whatever he found there must have satisfied him because he nodded and cut the engine.

The church doors stood open. People filtered in wearing black, their voices a low murmur that didn’t quite qualify as conversation. I recognized the dynamic immediately. This was performance, the careful dance of appearing appropriately somber while cataloging who attended and who didn’t, who cried and who maintained composure.

Cian’s hand found the small of my back as we crossed the threshold.

The whispers started immediately.

I didn’t catch specific words; I just noticed the quality of them. A lot of them were sharp. Some were pointed. Others were just plain curious. Eyes tracked our movement down the center aisle. Some gazes held pity. Others carried judgment. A few looked openly hostile.

Cian’s fingers pressed more firmly against my spine. The gesture said I’m here without requiring words. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

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