To ruin an Omega

Chapter 167: Holding back

CIAN

I took Fia upstairs myself.

The halls were quieter up here.The kind of quiet that pressed in on your ears and made every thought louder. Fia leaned more of her weight into me the farther we went. She tried to hide it. She always did. But I felt the way her steps lagged, the way her breathing changed.

“You don’t have to carry me,” she murmured.

“I know,” I said. “I still will.”

Her room was exactly how she’d left it. The curtains were half drawn. Moonlight spilled across the rug in a pale stripe. I guided her to the bed and helped her sit, then eased her back until her head hit the pillows.

She sighed. The sound came out of her like relief she’d been holding all night.

I pulled the covers up over her. Tucked them in around her shoulders the way I’d seen healers do when they wanted a patient to stay put. She watched me with heavy eyes, lashes low, mouth soft with exhaustion.

“I’ll have an Omega come sit with you,” I said. “Just in case you need anything.”

She nodded. No argument this time. Her eyes were already drifting shut.

“Cian,” she said quietly, catching my wrist before I could step away.

I leaned closer. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I managed to say.

I squeezed her hand in a gentle manner and then I let go.

“Rest,” I said. “I’ll be right outside.”

She was asleep before I reached the door.

I left Fia’s room and pulled the door closed behind me with a soft click. The hallway stretched out in both directions, lit by the warm glow of wall sconces. Ronan was already there, leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed. He straightened when he saw me.

“We need to talk,” I said.

“Yeah.” His expression was serious. “That’s why I’m here. You looked out of it.”

I glanced down the corridor. It was empty for now, but voices drifted up from somewhere below. The estate was settling in for the night but people were still moving around. Word of my mother’s miraculous healing has probably already spread.

“When did you even meet Madeline?” Ronan asked. His voice was low but there was an edge to it. Curiosity mixed with something harder. He wanted to tease me.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

His eyebrows went up. “Cian—”

“Something’s up.” The words came out clipped. Sharper than I intended.

Ronan studied my face for a long moment. Then his expression shifted. The curiosity bled away and left something more concerned behind. “You’re scaring me.”

I reached out and gripped his shoulder, pushing him gently but firmly away from Fia’s door. He went without resistance, his eyes never leaving my face. We moved down the hall until we were a good distance away. I checked over my shoulder. Checked both directions. No one.

I turned back to Ronan and dropped my voice to barely above a whisper. “I think Madeline is compromised.”

He blinked. “What?”

“When Ophelia died.” I had to force the words out. They felt wrong on my tongue. Crazy. But I couldn’t keep them inside anymore. “I smelled something. Magic. It is something that just flies past most people. But magic usually has a smell, you know? This one was familiar. I knew it from somewhere but I couldn’t place my finger on it then.”

Ronan’s face was blank. Processing.

“Until I met Madeline again,” I continued. “She used her magic at Alpha Julius’ estate. The smell…” I paused. Swallowed. “It was the same smell. The exact same smell I caught at Ophelia’s death scene.”

The silence that followed felt heavy. Oppressive. Ronan just stared at me.

“I think she was the one who killed Ophelia,” I said. Each word felt like pulling teeth. “And I think she might be working for my uncle Gabriel.”

Ronan gave me a long look. His eyes searched my face like he was looking for something. Some sign that I was joking or delirious or having some kind of breakdown.

Then he laughed.

It wasn’t a big laugh. Just a short burst of disbelief. But it cut through me anyway.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Ronan, I’m not joking here.” My hands curled into fists at my sides. “I’m deadly serious.”

The laugh died. His expression sobered but there was still skepticism written all over his features. “It’s Madeline. She… loves you to death. She would never—”

“I’m having a hard time with it too.” The admission came out rough. Raw. “But is it not possible? All the magic practitioners icing me out. Madeline being at the party. It feels like I was being puppeted. Like someone was pulling strings and I was just dancing along.”

Ronan shook his head slowly. “This feels like you’re going through cognitive dissonance of some sort.”

I felt my jaw clench. “You aren’t hearing me.”

“I am.” He held up his hands. “I swear I am. But Madeline is part of your past. She was something that you haven’t moved on from for a long time. Until recently. Until Fia. I think your mind hates that she’s back now and the trouble that it means. So your body is trying to hate her and be wary and suspicious of her before her presence here opens closed things.”

The words hit harder than I expected. I felt them land in my chest and spread out like cold water. Was that what this was? Was I just looking for reasons to push her away because having her here was too complicated? Too painful?

“I’m not in love with Madeline,” I said. The words came out firm. Certain. “Not anymore.”

Ronan nodded. “I believe you.”

He reached out and tapped his chest. Right over his heart. “You know what? Nothing… No idea or suspicion is dumb. What happened to the witch Ophelia was calculated. Planned. Maybe you’re right. Maybe there’s something there that we’re all missing.”

I felt some of the tension in my shoulders ease. Not all of it. But enough.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Ronan continued. “See if I can fizzle anything suspicious out of Madeline. I don’t think there’s anything to find. But I will look. I’ll watch her. I’ll be careful.”

“Thank you.”

The gratitude felt inadequate but it was all I had. Ronan had always been there. Always had my back even when I was making questionable decisions or chasing ghosts that might not exist. He didn’t dismiss me. Didn’t tell me I was crazy even though I probably sounded like it.

He just nodded. “But hold back, okay? Don’t go confronting her or doing anything rash. If she is compromised, if she is working with Gabriel somehow, we need to be smart about this. We need proof.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” His eyes were serious again. “Because I know you, Cian. When you get an idea in your head, you charge at it like a bull. But this isn’t something you can just attack head-on. If you’re wrong, you’ll destroy whatever trust she has left in you. And if you’re right…” He trailed off. Shook his head. “If you’re right, then we’re dealing with something bigger than we thought.”

I thought about that. About what it would mean if Madeline really was working with Gabriel. If she had killed Ophelia. If she was here in my home, in my mother’s room, with access to everything and everyone I cared about.

The thought made my skin crawl.

But Ronan was right. I couldn’t just accuse her. Couldn’t confront her without proof. Because if I was wrong, if this was just my mind playing tricks on me because I was scared of what her presence meant, then I would be throwing away the one person who had just saved my mother’s life because of our stupid rocky past.

“I’ll hold back,” I said finally. “But I need you to watch her. Really watch her. If she does anything suspicious, anything at all—”

“I’ll tell you immediately.” Ronan’s voice was steady. Reassuring. “I promise.”

The voices from below were getting louder. Footsteps on the stairs. Someone was coming up. We both tensed and then forced ourselves to relax. To look casual. Like we were just having a normal conversation about nothing important.

An Omega appeared at the top of the stairs. She looked between us and dipped her head in a quick bow. “Alpha. Beta.”

Ronan and I gave her a curt smile.

She bowed again and disappeared back down the stairs.

I turned back to Ronan. “We keep this between us for now. No one else can know what I suspect. Not until we have something concrete.”

“Agreed.” He paused. “What about Fia?”

I thought about that. About whether I should tell her what I was thinking. She had been through so much already. Had her own trauma to deal with. Did I really want to add my paranoid suspicions on top of everything else?

“Not yet,” I decided. “Let her rest. Let her recover. If we find something a bit concrete, then I’ll tell her. But right now she needs peace.”

Ronan nodded. He understood. He always understood.