To ruin an Omega

Chapter 136: Buttercream and Battlelines 2

CIAN

I stood in front of the mirror while the Omegas finished fussing over my suit, tugging fabric here, smoothing it there, their hands quick and practiced like they had done this a thousand times before. The charcoal jacket finally sat right on my shoulders, no pulling, no creases. The navy tie pressed close to my throat, neat and exact, and the aquamarine brooch caught the light every time someone shifted behind me. I barely noticed them until one of the Omegas stepped back and gave a slow nod, satisfaction clear on her face.

“It’s Perfect, Alpha.”

I inclined my head and thanked her, already feeling the familiar weight settle in my chest. The expectation. The performance.

There was a knock at the door before I could linger on it.

“Come in.”

Ronan walked in like he owned the space, eyes flicking over me once before his brow lifted in mild amusement. “You called for me?”

“Yes,” I said, turning fully toward him. “You’ll be staying back instead of joining us for the wedding.”

If he was bothered, he hid it well. In fact, he looked like he had expected it.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” I added, more out of courtesy than guilt.

“I really don’t mind,” he said easily. “I had a heads up anyway.”

I studied him for a moment. “Fia?”

He nodded, mouth twitching like he found the whole thing faintly entertaining.

I couldn’t stop the small smile that crept in. Of course she had already handled it. Of course she had already thought three steps ahead and put Morrigan’s safety first. That was who she was.

“Have fun pretending you can tolerate them,” Ronan said as he turned toward the door.

“That’s my strongest skill.”

He laughed and left, the door closing softly behind him.

One of the Omegas approached then, holding out a velvet lined case as if it were something fragile, something sacred. I knew what it was long before she opened it carefully and angled it so the light hit just right.

“It’s ready, Alpha.”

The necklace lay inside, white gold gleaming, three aquamarine stones arranged in a gentle cascade. It was even more striking now than it had been during the fittings, every detail perfected.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, and meant it.

They helped me into my jacket, adjusted the shoulders until they sat exactly where they should, straightened my cuffs, and adjusted the brooch in place. The aquamarine flared with color under the lamplight, blue and green like deep water. When they finished, they bowed and gathered their things, leaving me alone in the quiet of my quarters.

I stood there for a moment, breathing, bracing myself. Weddings like this were never just celebrations. They were battlegrounds dressed up in silk and wine. Alphas measuring each other, alliances shifting with glances and half spoken words. I hated every second of it.

At least this time, I wouldn’t be facing it alone.

That thought steadied me as I left my rooms and headed up the corridor toward Fia’s suite. The hall was unusually quiet, most of the household still caught up in preparations. I knocked once.

“Come in.”

I opened the door and stepped inside.

The Omegas were finishing up, gathering brushes and powders, murmuring softly to one another. Fia sat at the mirror while one of them applied the last touches of makeup. When she turned toward me, the room seemed to narrow, like everything else had faded back a step.

The dress was stunning, silver melting into midnight blue, the fabric catching light as she moved like it held stars inside it. The neckline was elegant, restrained, and the skirt fell in soft waves. But it wasn’t the dress that stole my breath. It was the way she wore it. The quiet confidence in her posture, the small, knowing smile she gave me.

She stood. “Hey. You’re back.”

I forgot how to speak for a second. I just stood there, staring.

“You look nice,” I managed eventually, and felt ridiculous for how inadequate it sounded.

Color rose in her cheeks, soft and warm. “I like your brooch,” she said. “And your suit does do it for me.”

Pride settled heavy and pleasant in my chest. I stepped closer and opened the case in my hand. “If you like the brooch, you’ll love this.”

Her eyes widened as she leaned in. The aquamarines glinted between us.

“It’s beautiful,” she said quietly.

“And it matches your dress.”

She turned without hesitation, lifting her hair to expose the smooth line of her neck. My hands stayed steady as I lifted the necklace out, draped it around her throat, and fastened the clasp. I checked it twice, more careful than strictly necessary. The stones settled perfectly at the hollow of her collarbone, like they belonged there.

She looked at herself in the mirror. “How does it look?”

“Like the one thing everyone will be talking about,” I said. “Alpha Julius’s bride might have some competition today.”

She turned back to me, eyebrow raised. “I wanted a compliment.”

“You got one.”

“Outshining the bride?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to.”

“It’ll happen anyway,” I said. “You’re new to those circles. They’ll stare, they’ll speculate, and they’ll crowd you. So you might as well give them something worth looking at.”

Something flickered across her face, nerves maybe, but it passed quickly. She nodded once.

I offered her my hand. “We should head out.”

Her fingers slipped into mine, warm and sure, and together we made our way downstairs.

Aldric and Elara were waiting in the entrance hall, both dressed for the occasion. Aldric bowed when he saw us.

“The witch will arrive in about two hours,” Aldric said.

“I’ve already informed Ronan,” I replied. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Elara stepped forward like she was bracing herself. “Good morning, cousin.”

I looked at her and said nothing. I let the silence hang there, long enough to grow awkward, long enough that she had to feel it press in around her. She noticed. I saw it in the way her expression tightened, the flicker of something like guilt or hurt passing through her eyes. It did nothing for me. Whatever sympathy I might have had was spent already. She had made her choice the moment she let Hazel turn her into a weapon against Fia.

Elara shifted her attention instead. “You look nice.”

“You too,” Fia replied, her tone even and distant, polite in the way that kept doors firmly closed.

“That’s enough,” I said. “Let’s go.”

Outside, the cars waited in the drive, black paint polished so well they reflected the morning light like water. Sentinels moved efficiently, opening doors, already knowing where each of us would sit. I guided Fia toward the first car, my hand light at her back, and let her slide inside before following. The door closed behind us with a muted thud. The interior smelled of leather and polish, a familiar scent that usually grounded me. Today it only reminded me how long the day ahead would be.

Aldric and Elara took the second car. I watched through the window as they climbed in, Aldric first, Elara after him, her posture stiff. Their driver shut the door and moved around to the front.

Our driver settled into his seat, started the engine, and we pulled away from the estate with a smooth, almost lazy roll, the gates disappearing behind us.

Fia sat beside me with her hands folded neatly in her lap. The necklace rested at her throat, the aquamarine stones catching the morning light as it filtered through the windows, scattering faint blue reflections across the interior. I found myself watching the way it moved when she breathed.

“Nervous?” I asked.

She turned her head slightly. “Should I be?”

“Probably.”

She huffed out a quiet breath. “Well… that’s reassuring.”

I smiled despite myself. “These events always are. Everyone watching everyone else, trying to decide who matters, who doesn’t, and who they can use.”

“Sounds delightful.”

“It isn’t,” I said. “But you’ll be fine. Stay close to me. Don’t let anyone pull you aside alone, and don’t take anything anyone says at face value without checking it later.”

She glanced at me. “You’re really selling this.”

“I’m being honest.”

She was quiet for a moment, eyes drifting back to the window as the road stretched out ahead of us. Then she asked, softly, “Will Hazel really be there?”

The question landed heavier than it should have. Of course Hazel would be there. My father in law’s new standing all but guaranteed an invitation, and with the way Fia spoke about her sister and the little I had found out through Ronan. It seemed like Hazel was the type that would never miss the chance to be seen, to insert herself where she could do the most damage.

“Probably,” I said.

Fia nodded once, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I thought so.”

“She can’t touch you there,” I said. “Not with that many eyes on you.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Fia replied. “She just has to exist in the same room. That’s usually enough for people to remember the things she’s said I did to her.”

I reached over and took her hand, threading my fingers through hers. Her skin was warm, a little tense at first. “Let them remember,” I said. “Then let them look at you and decide for themselves what’s true.”

She looked at me then, something unguarded in her expression. “And if they don’t?”

“Then they aren’t worth worrying about,” I said. “Anyone who believes her without question isn’t someone whose opinion carries weight. I would know.”

Her mouth curved into a small smile, tentative but real. “You make it sound simple.”

“It isn’t,” I said. “But it’s survivable. And you’re stronger than you think. I also know that.”

The car turned onto the main road, the estate giving way to open stretches of land. Forests blurred past, broken occasionally by small settlements and markers of other packs’ territories. We had hours of driving ahead of us, plenty of time for nerves to spiral if we let them.

I kept hold of her hand, my thumb tracing slow, absent patterns over her knuckles. Gradually, I felt her relax, her grip loosening just enough to tell me she was breathing easier.

Whatever waited for us at Alpha Julius Knight’s wedding, the scrutiny, the politics, the old grudges dressed up as polite conversation, we wouldn’t be facing it separately.

We’d walk into it together, and for now, that felt like enough.