To ruin an Omega

FIA

I walked down the steps and made it three feet before Father intercepted me.

“You could have been graceful today,” he said quietly. His hand caught my elbow, stopping my progress. “You could have been kind.”

I met his eyes. “Perhaps it was the culture I was forced to adapt to when I lived with my stepmother and half-sister. They preyed on kindness, ate weakness , and punished honesty. Even now that they are dead, I guess being in the same room with them, I still can’t bring myself to unlearn those lessons.”

His expression cracked. Just slightly.

“If my words hurt you, I apologize.” I bowed, brief and formal. “But I meant every one of them.”

“Well… I cannot tell you how to grieve and how to forgive… I’m glad you came regardless.”

“I didn’t come for you.”

I pulled free of his grip and walked back to Cian. He stood as I approached, his face unreadable. I slid into the pew beside him, and he sat too, his thigh pressing against mine again.

“The funeral’s practically over,” he murmured. “We can leave now.”

“I want to see them buried.”

He looked at me. “Fia—”

“I need to watch them go into the ground. I need to know it’s real. I know it sounds so stupid. But it is what I want.”

He didn’t argue. He just nodded and settled back against the pew.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. There were more prayers and even more songs. Then pallbearers lifted the caskets and carried them out through a side door that led to the cemetery.

I followed.

Cian stayed at my side, his hand finding mine as we joined the procession. Others trailed behind us, a stream of black-clad mourners threading between headstones that stretched back generations.

Three graves had been prepared. The earth gaped open, raw and dark against the manicured lawn. The caskets were lowered with perfect precision and the ropes creaked as they descended.

Pauline was put in first, followed by Isobel and then Hazel’s too-small box.

The elder from earlier produced her bowl of white ash again. She murmured words I couldn’t hear and sprinkled the ash over each grave. Then workers stepped forward with shovels.

The first spadeful of dirt hit Pauline’s casket with a hollow thud.

I watched.

Shovel after shovel. The graves filled slowly and methodically. The caskets disappeared beneath dark earth, leaving only mounded soil.

That was when Alpha Dimitri approached.

He stood beside me, his attention fixed on the graves. “In this light, you have her eyes. Athena’s eyes.”

I felt my stomach twist in knots at his mention of Athena.

“I’m not Athena,” I said before swallowing.

“I know.” He was quiet for a moment. “But you carry her forward. That means something. To me at least.”

I didn’t respond.

“I want to offer you legitimization,” he said. “Official recognition as my granddaughter. A place in Nocturne’s succession. Everything that should have been your mother’s.”

“I have Skollrend. I have my mate. I don’t need Nocturne.”

“I understand.” He turned to look at me fully. “I did have an inkling that you would refuse, which is why I had to let those who at least showed up today know you have Nocturne in you. Regardless of what happens to me… it will remain in the records of Nocturne and may others after today. Your blood is Nocturne blood. Your children and their children—no matter how many generations pass—will have claim to this pack if they choose it. That is your birthright, whether you take it now or never.”

I met his gaze. “Thank you. But I stand by my choice not to have a relationship with you. In the same way, I chose not to have one with my father anymore. If my children want that, then I have no problem with it. But for me… I fear I have made my bed, and I intend to get comfortable in it.”

His attention shifted. I followed his line of sight to where Father stood on the opposite side of the filled graves, watching us with an expression I couldn’t care to read.

“I guess we deserve it,” Alpha Dimitri said quietly.

He reached into his coat and withdrew a small box. It was made of dark wood and worn smooth with age. He held it out to me.

I took it. The weight felt significant, heavy in a way that had nothing to do with actual mass.

“What is this?”

“Before Athena’s family defected to become rogues, they gave me something. This. They said when Athena’s body was found, they wanted her to be buried with it. I believe it’s a family heirloom.”

I opened the box.

A necklace lay inside. It was a silver chain supporting a delicate owl pendant, its wings spread wide, tiny garnets set where eyes should be.

“I think it belongs to you now,” he said.

My throat felt tight. “Thank you.”

He nodded once and walked away, leaving me standing there with the necklace in my hands.

Cian appeared at my elbow. “What happened?”

“I need to use the bathroom.” I closed the box and slipped it into my pocket. “I just need a minute.”

His brow furrowed. “Fia—”

“It is fine. I’m fine. I’ll be right back.”

I walked toward the church before he could argue. The crowd had thinned, most people drifting back toward their cars or clustering in small groups to discuss what they’d witnessed. The speech I’d given would fuel gossip for weeks.

I pushed through a side door and found myself in a hallway lined with portraits of past pack leaders. My footsteps echoed on polished tile.

The bathroom should be around here somewhere.

That was also the moment that movement caught my peripheral vision.

I turned.

A figure in a black hooded cloak stood at the end of the hallway…Watching me.

My pulse kicked up. “Hello?”

But the figure didn’t respond, or did it move?

I took a step back. Then another.

The figure matched my movement, gliding forward with unnatural smoothness.

Every instinct screamed at me to run. But then I caught his scent.