To ruin an Omega

Chapter 380: No one mourns the cruel 1

CIAN

Fia moved before I could fully process what was happening, before my mind could even catch up to what my eyes were seeing.

One moment, she was beside me, close enough that I could feel her presence without looking. The next, she had stepped in front of me, placing herself directly between me and Pryce’s gun.

Her body became a barrier, rigid and unyielding, as though she believed she could stop a bullet with nothing but her own flesh.

My hand reacted before I could think. I reached out, caught her arm, and yanked her back with enough force that she stumbled, her balance breaking as she was forced to catch herself against the chair to keep from falling.

“What are you doing?” The words came out sharper than I intended, edged with something I didn’t bother to soften.

I didn’t wait for an answer. I pushed her behind me and stepped forward, reclaiming the space she had taken, placing myself back in the line of fire where I belonged.

I didn’t look at Pryce.

I looked at her.

At Fia.

The color had drained from her face so completely it made something twist low in my chest, and her eyes, wide and fixed on me, carried a kind of intensity that went beyond panic. Whatever she was feeling poured off her in waves, heavy and suffocating, strong enough that it unsettled me in a way I couldn’t ignore.

Fear.

But not the simple kind, not the instinctive reaction to a weapon being pointed in your direction, not the kind that makes a person flinch or duck or freeze in place.

This was something else entirely.

This was fear rooted in certainty, the kind that comes from knowing rather than guessing, from seeing something that hasn’t happened yet but feels inevitable. It carried the weight of something already decided, something she believed she could not change, no matter how desperately she tried.

My chest tightened as the realization settled in.

She thought I was going to die.

She thought this was the moment it happened.

I opened my mouth, ready to say something, anything, to pull her out of that space, to tell her I was fine, that nothing was going to happen, that she didn’t need to look at me like that.

Pryce’s voice cut through the room before I could speak.

“What the fuck?”

I turned toward him.

He was looking around the hall now, his gaze darting from face to face as if searching for something, or someone. His gun was still raised, but his arm had started to shake, the tremor growing more obvious by the second, and the color had drained from his face until he looked almost sick.

He was waiting.

Waiting for someone to stand with him, to back him up, to make this something other than a mistake he had made alone.

No one moved.

The realization hit him all at once, and I saw it unfold in real time, in the way his expression faltered, in the way his shoulders dropped as whatever resolve he had clung to slipped out from under him, in the way his grip on the gun weakened even as his hand trembled harder.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, the word breaking apart as it left him. “Fuck. I fucked up. Please, spare my family, Alpha Cian. They did not know. They had no idea.”

He turned the gun toward himself.

I stepped forward immediately, instinct overriding everything else.

“Pry—”

The shot rang out before I could reach him.

The sound was deafening, sharp enough to cut through everything else, and it echoed through the hall in a way that made it feel like it had lodged somewhere inside my chest.

Pryce’s body dropped where he stood.

Blood spread beneath him almost instantly, dark and thick as it seeped across the stone floor, moving faster than my mind could keep up with.

The hall erupted.

People shouted, voices rising over one another in panic, chairs scraping as bodies moved, as everyone tried to put distance between themselves and what had just happened.

For a moment, I didn’t move.

It wasn’t long, barely a second, but it was enough.

Then something else caught my attention.

Aldric.

He was shifting.

Not fully, not completely, but enough to make the change visible. I heard the cracks before I fully saw them, the sound of bone shifting under skin, of his body forcing itself into something stronger, something harder. His muscles thickened, stretching against his clothes, and the chains around his wrists strained under the sudden pressure, metal groaning as it fought to hold.

Then they snapped.

The sound was sharp, final.

The sentinels reacted instantly, shouting over one another as they raised their guns, the air tightening with the anticipation of what came next.

Aldric didn’t hesitate.

He moved.

Fast, far faster than he should have been able to, closing the distance before anyone could properly adjust. The first shots rang out, bullets grazing him as they tore through fabric and skin, but none of them landed cleanly enough to slow him down, none of them did anything that mattered.

He hit Gabriel with force.

My uncle barely had time to react before Aldric’s hands were on him, fingers locking around his throat as he dragged him backward, positioning him between himself and the sentinels.

Using him.

The sentinels froze, their weapons still raised, but their fingers stalled on the triggers.

They couldn’t shoot.

Not without hitting Gabriel.

I started toward them, but the distance felt wrong, too long, as if the space between us had stretched in a way that worked against me, my steps suddenly not fast enough to matter.

Aldric leaned in, saying something to Gabriel. I couldn’t hear the words over the noise, over the chaos building around us, but I saw the effect of them.

Gabriel’s expression shifted.

His body went rigid.

Then Aldric moved his hand, or his claws rather.

His claws cut across Gabriel’s throat in a single, decisive motion.

Blood sprayed.

Gabriel’s body jerked violently, a wet, choking sound forcing its way out of him as the reality of what had just happened settled in too late to change anything.

“No!”

The word tore out of me, raw and useless.

It didn’t matter.

Aldric held him there for a moment longer, his hand pressed against the wound as blood poured over it, his fingers disappearing beneath the surface as though it belonged there.

Then he let go.

Uncle Gabriel’s body dropped to the floor with a heavy impact, blood already spreading around him in a widening pool.

The sentinels opened fire.

This time, they didn’t hesitate. Bullets slammed into Aldric’s body, striking his shoulder, his leg, his side, each hit forcing a reaction, each impact jerking him slightly, but none of it was enough to stop him.

He turned.

And he ran. Straight toward the window.

Two more shots hit him before he reached it, his body jolting with each impact, but he didn’t slow, didn’t falter, didn’t give them anything that would make it easier to bring him down.

He crashed through the glass.

The sound of shattering filled the hall. Shards exploded outward in a glittering spray.

Then he was gone.

Sentinels immediately surrounded Ronan. Their guns were trained on him. Making sure he did not follow suit.

Ronan stood there with his hands raised. His face was white. He was not going anywhere.

I turned toward the window just as more sentinels pushed past it, already in motion, their bodies cutting through the opening one after the other as they ran for the exit and disappeared into the open air beyond, fully committed to the chase before anyone could call them back.

“I have to join them,” I said, the decision settling into place with a weight that left no room for hesitation, my body already shifting forward to follow.

I barely made it a step before a hand closed around my arm and stopped me in place, the grip firm enough to anchor me where I stood despite the urgency pressing at my back.

Fia.

She held on tightly, her fingers digging in as though she thought she could keep me there if she refused to let go, and when I turned to face her, the sight of her expression hit harder than anything else in the room.

Her eyes were wide, bright with unshed tears, and the fear in them hadn’t lessened, hadn’t softened; if anything, it had deepened into something more desperate, more certain, something that made it clear she wasn’t reacting to what was happening around us, but to something she believed was about to.

“You cannot,” she said, her voice unsteady despite the urgency behind it, each word carrying the strain of someone trying to hold onto control that was already slipping. “The vision. My vision. It could be now.”

Behind her, Maren and Thorne had already reached Gabriel, both of them dropping to their knees at his side, their hands moving quickly, pressing against his throat, trying to stop the blood that refused to slow, no matter how much pressure they applied, their focus absolute as the chaos around them continued to build.

I dragged my gaze back to Fia, forcing myself to stay present with her even as every instinct in me pulled toward the door, toward the hunt already unfolding beyond the walls.

“I promise you,” I said, steadying my voice with intention, making sure there was no space for doubt in it, “that bastard will not be the one to take me down.”