To ruin an Omega

Chapter 137: Once upon an Aphrodisiac

HAZEL

I woke with heat pressed along my side and the quiet rise and fall of breathing that did not belong to me. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, for the ceiling to stop swimming, for the silk sheets tangled around my legs to register as mine. When I turned my head, Baruch was there, sprawled beside me like he belonged.

Sleep softened him. His face had lost that guarded sharpness he carried when he was awake. Morning light traced the line of his jaw and caught in the dark hair falling into his eyes. I reached out without thinking and slid my fingers through it. It surprised me how soft it was. He did not stir.

The clock did.

The red numbers snapped into focus and my stomach tightened. I swore under my breath. The Omegas would be here any minute. I sat up fast and shoved his shoulder.

“Get up.”

He groaned, half awake, eyes barely open.

“Get up,” I said again, sharper now. “Pack your shit and get out. They’re about to arrive.”

That did it. He bolted upright, glanced at the clock, and went pale. “Fuck.”

The sheets flew back as he stumbled out of bed, grabbing for clothes scattered across the floor. Shirt first, then his trousers, hopping clumsily as he tried to pull them on without falling over. I leaned back against the headboard and watched him with lazy interest. Panic did something almost charming to him, though I would never admit that out loud.

His phone slipped from his pocket and hit the floor with a dull thud.

I leaned forward to help, reaching down from the bed, but he dove for it before I could get close. He snatched it up and pressed it to his chest like it was a weapon or a secret worth dying over. His breathing was uneven when he straightened.

I raised a brow. “Relax. If we were married, I’d think you were hiding an affair.”

He glanced at the screen, thumb moving quickly as if checking something important, then looked back at me. “Sorry. Reflex, I guess.”

I studied him then, really took him in. The way his shoulders stayed tense even as his voice went casual, the way he tucked the phone away too carefully.

“Why?” I asked. “Got secrets I should know about?”

He slid the phone into his pocket and smoothed his expression into something neutral, practiced. “Everyone does.”

I tilted my head. “You don’t look like the type.”

He smiled, and this time it reached his eyes. “I could come with you. To the wedding. Stay close, make it bearable.”

I said nothing, let the silence stretch.

“I’d stay by your side,” he added. “Help you enjoy it, as much as that’s possible.”

I laughed before I could stop myself. “Funny. That sort of thing is usually my role.”

The smile fell from my face as easily as I had put it on. “And I don’t want a sentinel glued to me.”

He froze.

“The last one who got close to me died,” I said, my tone flat. “A second would start rumors I don’t feel like dealing with.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, the nightdress clinging to me, barely decent. I did not bother fixing it as I walked toward him. I stopped close enough to see his throat move when he swallowed.

“I enjoy the sex,” I said. “And I’m very fond of your dick.”

His breath hitched.

“But that’s all this is,” I went on, steady and calm. “Sex. Nothing more. Nothing lasting.”

He searched my face, like he was hoping to find a crack or a lie. I gave him neither.

“I’m just happy to serve you,” he said quietly.

Good.

I rose on my toes and kissed him, gentle enough to feel kind, sweet enough to sell the illusion. When I pulled back, I smiled.

“I’m glad you understand your place,” I said. “You’re different from the rest. That’s why this works.”

He checked the clock again and the panic rushed back in. “I should go.”

“Yes.”

He gathered the last of his things and slipped out. I watched him until the door clicked shut, watched the way sleep and want still weighed his steps.

I collapsed back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. My neck ached faintly, so I rubbed at it, working out the stiffness. Time passed in loose minutes until the knock came, right on schedule.

“Come in.”

Delta entered first, followed by another Omega whose name never seemed to stick. They bowed low.

“Good morning, Luna Hazel.”

“Good morning,” I said, swinging my legs down. “I’ll shower. Steam the dress, polish the pearls. I need to look flawless.”

I did not wait for confirmation. I walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

The mirror reflected what I already knew. Messy hair, swollen lips, faint marks blooming along my neck that would need careful attention. I grabbed my toothbrush and scrubbed until the mint burned, rinsed away the lingering taste of sex, and spat into the sink.

The bath came next.

I turned the taps and watched steam rise, added soap until the water foamed. From behind my bottles, I pulled out the small vial.

The aphrodisiac perfume.

A witch had sold it to me with a knowing smile, promising subtlety. Not compulsion, just suggestion. Enough to pull eyes, to make interest linger where it might otherwise fade.

I tipped a measured amount into the bath. The scent unfurled slowly, floral at first, then deeper, warmer, the kind that made people lean closer without realizing why.

Men would look today. I was certain of that.

I stepped into the water and sank down, heat wrapping around me. When the door opened again, I did not turn.

“The pink?” Delta asked.

“Yes.”

A pause. “It’s not your usual choice.”

“I know,” I said. “That’s the point.”

“I could alter the bust,” she offered. “Make it more you.”

“No.”

She hesitated. “No?”

“It isn’t that kind of event,” I said, sitting up slightly. “There will be powerful men there. I want them curious, not distracted. And I want someone else to understand the message I’m sending.”

I let the implication hang.

“So it stays exactly as it is.”

“Of course, Luna Hazel.”

The door closed.

I sank back into the bath and let the heat and scent seep into my skin. Today had to be precise. Fia thought she had won, thought a slap and a marriage I had granted her had elevated her. She was wrong.

This wedding was not her triumph. It was my stage.

By the end of the night, everyone would remember who I was, and Cian would remember what he gave up. I smiled to myself, eyes closing as the water cooled, already rehearsing every glance, every word.

Control was waiting. I intended to take it.