To ruin an Omega

Chapter 430: Grave

LYSANDER

“If she’s the real deal,” he said slowly, “if Gabriel’s proof holds up and she really is a product of fleshcraft, then she’ll need to be acquired. Covertly, of course. We can’t have Skollrend or the royals catching wind of it.”

Acquired.

The word sat in my chest like a stone.

“You mean kidnapped,” I said.

“I mean secured.” His tone didn’t change. “She’s valuable, Lysander. More valuable than you realize. If what Gabriel says is true, she’s not just some failed experiment. She’s proof. Living, breathing proof of something the elite supernaturals have spent decades trying to ignore.”

I felt my hands curl into fists at my sides.

“And what happens to her after you secure her?” I asked.

“That depends.” He turned back toward his desk and picked up the photograph again. “If she’s cooperative, if she understands her position, then she’ll be treated well. Kept safe. Protected, even.”

“In a cage.”

He glanced at me. “If that’s what it takes.”

I looked away.

My gaze landed on the window. The light outside was bright. Too bright. It made the edges of everything inside the room feel sharper.

“Your mother used to sit by the window,” my father said.

I went still.

He wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was looking at the photograph in his hand.

“She’d spend hours there,” he continued. “Just staring out at nothing. I asked her once what she was looking at. She said she was watching the birds.”

I didn’t respond.

“She loved birds,” he said. “Did you know that?”

I did know that.

I remembered.

***

I was fourteen or sixteen when I found her sitting on the windowsill in her room. It was so long, and I repressed it because of how Father wanted the story told.

Her legs were pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees. She was staring out at the grounds, her eyes unfocused and distant.

“Mother,” I said.

She didn’t turn.

I stepped closer. “Are you alright?”

“Your father loves me so, so much,” she said softly.

I frowned. “Did you take drugs again?”

She laughed. It was a light sound. Almost airy.

“It inhibits the healing factor,” she said. “Gives you a great high too. You should try it sometime.”

“Mother—”

“As I was saying, Lysander.” She finally looked at me. Her eyes were glassy but clear. “He loves me so, so much. But it’s like he loves a rare pet. Something beautiful to keep on display. Something to own.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

She turned back to the window.

“This pack is a cage,” she said. “And I love being a free bird.”

She rested her head against the glass.

“I don’t want to be his Seltenvogel in a cage anymore,” she whispered. “I’m sorry to you and your siblings. But I need to fly.”

Her eyes closed.

I stood there for a long time. Watching her. Waiting for her to say something else.

She didn’t.

Instead, she let it all go.

***

I walked to the window.

My father kept talking behind me. Something about timing. Something about how we’d need to move quickly once Gabriel was dealt with. Something about contingencies.

I wasn’t listening.

I stared out at the grounds. At the trees. At the open sky beyond the walls.

My hands moved on their own. I reached up and loosened my tie. Pulled it free from my collar. The silk was smooth between my fingers.

I wrapped one end around my right hand. Then the other end around my left.

The fabric pulled taut between them.

I looked down at it.

My father’s voice droned on in the background.

I thought about my mother. About the way she had looked sitting in that window. About the way she had talked about love as if it were a prison.

About the way she had died trying to escape it.

I thought about Fia.

About the way my father wanted to take her. To own her. To keep her locked away like something precious and breakable.

I thought about how easy it would be.

How simple.

One choice. One moment of courage.

My hands tightened on the tie.

Then they dropped.

The silk fell loose against my palms.

I let it hang there for a moment before I unwound it completely and let it fall to my side.

I turned back to my father.

He was still talking. Still planning. Still building his strategy as if it were already a foregone conclusion.

Like I had already agreed.

And I had, hadn’t I?

I had said “of course” when he asked if I wanted to keep Fia.

I had stood here and listened while he laid out his plan to kill Gabriel and take her.

I had done nothing.

Just like I always did.

“Lysander?”

I looked up.

My father was watching me.

“Are you listening?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Good.” He set the photograph down and folded his hands on the desk. “Two nights from now. We leave at dusk. We won’t be staying long.”

“Understood.”

He smiled. “I’m glad we’re doing this together. It’s been a long time since we worked on something like this.”

I nodded.

I didn’t trust myself to speak.

“Go finish your breakfast,” he said.

“Of course.”

I turned and walked toward the door.

My hand was on the handle when he spoke again.

“Lysander.”

I stopped.

“You’re a good son,” he said.

I didn’t look back.

I just opened the door and walked out.

The hallway was empty and quiet.

I stood there for a moment. Breathing.

My hands were shaking again.

I looked down at them. At the tie still hanging loose in my left hand.

I thought about my mother.

About the window.

About the cage.

I thought about Fia.

About what my father was going to do to her.

And I realized something.

I was too weak to stop him.

I had always been too weak to stop him.

I folded the tie carefully and slipped it into my pocket.