Chapter Forty-Five
Rhea
I did get the snack, technically.
One piece of toast. Half-buttered, half-forgotten, now sitting somewhere on the kitchen counter like a tragic casualty of knot-induced chaos. I had one bite. One. Then Kai happened.
And honestly? If I were being petty about caloric intake, he definitely counts.
Still, here I am. Not satisfied. Not asleep. Not full of toast. Just very clean, vaguely traumatized, and aggressively alone.
I’ve washed and dressed back into Lucian’s shirt, because clearly I have no personal belongings anymore, and I’m standing in the isolation room like a haunted governess whose ghost is fueled entirely by sexual frustration and emotional whiplash.
I stare out the window, which is absolutely decorative because it doesn’t open and leads directly into more stone wall.
You know. In case I was hoping for a quick escape or a dramatic fall.
The silence is oppressive. The room smells like wealth, tension, and probably lemon-scented anxiety. The bed is perfect. The sheets are somehow freshly changed again, which is horrifying because that means someone came in while I was out cold and had to deal with… everything.
And still, I’m shaking. Not from cold.
From him.
It starts subtle.
A weird prickle at the back of my neck. My fingers twitch. My stomach twists like I forgot a final exam and my subconscious is punishing me.
Then I feel it. The bond.
The pulse of it - not soft. Not gentle.
It's in my spine, in my teeth. It’s Lucian, and he’s doing something that feels as though he's summoning me like I’m a haunted sword in a locked room he thinks only he can wield.
I clutch the bedpost as though it can anchor me.
“No,” I whisper, because saying it out loud might make it real. “No. No-no-nope.”
But the bond tightens, like someone’s yanking a leash I didn’t agree to wear, like a fishhook dragging through bone.
I’m not crying. I want to make that clear. I am not sobbing in the dark like some emotionally fragile paperback omega.
I am livid . I am vibrating with rage. I am sweating pure spite.
“You don’t get to do this to me !” I shout it at the ceiling, the wall, the universe. “You don’t get to fuck me and then reject me like it was a clerical error!”
The bond pulses.
I pulse.
Everything pulses.
I punch a pillow, which is mostly unsatisfying. It makes a weak poof noise, like even the furniture is too emotionally exhausted to argue.
I don’t even realize I’m reaching for him through the bond until I feel it - that thread tighten, react.
“You chose this!” I yell, loud enough that if the security system is still working, someone’s probably watching this on a silent camera feed while eating popcorn. “ You chose me! You bonded me! You did it with full knowledge, and now you wanna pretend like that wasn’t real?!”
The scream goes deeper this time, not through my throat, but through something older . More feral.
“How dare you. How fucking dare you.”
I’m not some broken thing wailing in the dark.
I’m on fire, and he lit the match.
I claw at the bond like it’s something I can rip out with my bare hands, but it holds fast.
And then, it yanks.
Hard.
Not kindly. Not with apology, either.
I double over like someone punched me in the ovaries. It’s not heat. It’s not lust. It’s compulsion. Raw, ancient, and completely unfair. It isn’t a gentle call. It’s a demand.
It’s Lucian Vale being exactly who he is: power and ego and control and all-consuming alpha need, apparently rearranging the world just to tilt me toward him.
“No,” I hiss out loud, as if he can hear me. And who knows - maybe he can. “No - fuck you. I’m not coming.”
But my legs move.
One step. Then another.
“I’m not coming!” I repeat as I stomp toward the door - already coming. “This is just a casual walk. I am coincidentally walking in your direction with no emotional relevance at all!”
I grip the doorframe, panting as I try to ground myself. My whole body is humming now, desperate and wired and aching in the worst way.
Not with want. With rage . With betrayal.
With... him .
I swing into the hallway, bare feet slapping tile, muttering curses like I’m possessed. The house layout makes no sense, but I don’t even hesitate. I just move, because the bond knows. My blood knows.
My whole dumb, traitorous body knows.
The bond doesn’t tug - it drags . I try to hold on to anger, to hate. I reach for it like armor, but it slips through my hands, drowned out by something primal and wrong and too deep for me to fight against.
I don’t even hate him. That’s the worst part.
I hate that I don’t hate him. I hate that I feel like this - like I’m on fire and only he gets to put it out. I hate that I’m still wearing his goddamn shirt like it’s armor instead of a souvenir from the worst emotional rollercoaster of my life.
And I especially hate that even now, even after everything, I know - down to my bones - that I’d still take him.
If he asked.
If he claimed.
If he said my name like it mattered.
And whether I like it or not, right now, Lucian Vale is calling me -
And my treacherous body answers.
*
The house is huge. And quiet. And a little too murder-mystery-for-sale on Zillow.
Every room looks like it’s waiting for a Vogue Home Tour that never arrived. Sleek marble floors, overpriced modern art that probably cost more than my entire student debt history, and a color palette that screams tax evasion, but make it fashion .
No clutter. No warmth. Not even a stray coffee cup.
Just vibes. Expensive, sterile, Lucian-core vibes.
I hate it here, but I keep moving anyway, because I’m apparently the proud owner of a magical homing device for emotionally repressed alphas.
The bond doesn’t nudge me forward, it yanks - like someone pressed Find My Omega and I’m being AirTagged to hell.
There’s a hallway with twelve identical doors, which feels a bit serial killer-y, if I’m honest. But one is cracked open. Just the one. Of course.
Because Lucian Vale, High Lord of Brooding and Bond Damage, knew I’d come.
Knew I’d feel it. Knew I’d follow.
The bond pulls tighter as I get closer. Not with affection, or an I miss you kind of gentleness.
No. This is a full-on tug-of-war between my self-respect and my absolute inability to ignore the metaphysical equivalent of a 2 a.m. u awake ? text from an alpha who ghosted me during heat.
I should leave. I should run.
I should go back, eat the sad half-slice of toast I left on the counter after being emotionally railed and spiritually knotted by Kai, and nap this rage off like a reasonable person.
But no.
I kick the door open, and there he is.
Lucian Vale. God of control. King of contempt. Alpha made of glass and gunpowder.
Emotionally constipated ruler of this ice-cube of a mansion.
He’s standing by the windowin a dark shirt dark with the sleeves pushed up like he’s about to draft military orders. His dark, wavy hair is slicked back like always; perfect and controlled.
Buttoned so far up emotionally that I’m surprised he can still breathe.
And those eyes - stormy, unreadable, annoyingly hot - snap to mine; sharp and assessing, like he’s already dissecting me for the threat I pose.
Or the damage I’ve already done.
He’s perfect. He’s impossible. He’s poison.
And I hate that he’s the only thing I want right now.
"You did this," I say.
No preamble. No pleasantries. Just war.
His jaw tightens. That’s all I get.
And it’s not enough.
"You bonded me. You branded me like I’m your property. And then what - ran off to go mope in your panic room while the rest of us figured out what the hell to do with the emotional nuclear fallout?"
He blinks. Blinks . Like I’m a fucking presentation he’s refusing to engage with.
" Say something ," I bark. "Own it."
Lucian tilts his head, slow and measured. The flick of his gaze across my body isn’t lustful - it’s cold. Analytical.
"You’re here," he says.
Oh no. No . We are not doing the sexy-monotone-riddle bullshit right now.
"I didn’t come because I wanted to ," I snap. "I came because your stupid alpha magnet activated and my body decided we have to listen. I came because I had no choice. Because you -"
My voice breaks again. I swallow it down.
"You called me."
He stares. Cold. Still. Calculating.
"I didn’t say a word."
"You didn’t have to."
My whole body is shaking, not from heat - but from rage. From betrayal.
From the sick, suffocating bond dragging me toward a man who said he didn’t want me.
“You said I was unstable.” The words burn on the way out. “You said you don’t take what others have already touched.”
His jaw flexes.
“You called me used .”
“I said I don’t share , ” he corrects, voice like ice through my spine.
“And you bonded me anyway .” I speak at full volume now, the sound bouncing off the walls like glass about to shatter.
He flinches. Just a flicker, but I see it.
And I go in for the kill.
"You tied yourself to me, Lucian. You made that choice. You let me feel you - feel everything - and then you walked. Like it meant nothing."
"I didn’t choose it," he says.
"Then why the fuck did it feel like you
did? "
Silence.
And I swear, I see it - under the hard lines and cold control -
Guilt.
Real, awful, bone-deep guilt.
“I was trying to protect you.”
The words fall like lead. Final . Meant to end the conversation.
But they don’t, because my blood is howling .
Because He. Did. This . To. Me.
“ Bullshit .” I don’t shout. I hiss - words like venom. “You think that gives you the right to abandon me? Leave me choking on your bond while you play dead?”
He continues to watch me, all silent and calculating, like I’m some omega problem he needs to contain.
“You can’t control it,” I spit, stalking closer. “So you walked away. You didn’t want to feel, you didn’t want to be vulnerable - so you made me do it all alone."
Still no words. Still him, watching me bleed.
“Does it burn , Lucian?” I whisper, all teeth. “Feeling them inside me? Feeling me tighten around someone else’s knot while your bond still thrums through my fucking soul ?”
Lucian’s jaw ticks.
“You think I don’t know what this is?” I press. “I felt it. When I was with Kai - I felt you twitch through the bond. You wanted to stop it. And you didn’t .”
His breathing is jagged now. His shoulders are tight.
“I didn’t trust myself.”
“ No ,” I growl. “You just didn’t want to share .”
Silence.
“You didn’t back away because of me,” I press, voice sharper now. “You backed away because you couldn’t stand the idea of someone else touching what you thought you owned . Because I’m not a person to you, am I? Not anything in your eyes except property. ”
Lucian moves - too fast.
His hand slams to my waist, dragging me in like he can’t hold back.
Our bodies crash flush. Every inch of me buzzes.
“Don’t test me, Rhea.”
“ Too late .”
I push at his chest.
He doesn’t so much as budge.
“ You did this!” I say to him, furious and frustrated and so fucking angry . “You tied me to you and then acted like I wasn’t enough. What the fuck is your problem?!”
“You think I don’t want you?” he snaps. “You think this hasn’t eaten me alive since the second it happened?”
“Then what is it?!”
He doesn’t answer, so I strike again.
“What - afraid the mighty Vale family won’t approve?” I say, my voice low, now; taunting. “Afraid of what it’ll look like - the golden heir of the Alpha line sharing a nest with three other men?”
His entire body goes still, and then vibrates .
There it is. The nerve.
I hit it.
And I feel it under my skin. Through the bond. A pulse like thunder before the storm.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” I whisper. “It’s not about me. It’s about them . About the name. About reputation .”
“I don’t give a fuck about what people think,” he growls.
“You do.”
He slams me back so hard the wall rattles.
Not cruel. Not pain -
Just rage. Just heat.
Just us .
“You’re getting far too mouthy for your own good.”
“ Ouch, ” I tease. “Did I hit too close to home, Lucian? Should I not have mentioned daddy ?”
His eyes darken impossibly, and I just know I’ve pushed him too far. I glare at him anyway, seeing through the gorgeous shell and rigid posture and bullshit self-control he’s using to hide the storm inside.
“You’re not special, Rhea,” he says, voice low and vicious. “You’re not rare . You’re just a heat-drunk, unregistered omega who got desperate after suppressing too long and opened her legs for any alpha willing to look twice.”
My stomach lurches, but I feel it. The bond. Flickering - sharp and sudden and…
Guilty .
“You don’t believe that,” I whisper.
“I do.”
It flickers again, and my brow furrows. I’m still beyond angry - absolutely furious - and yet I’m fascinated, too.
Because I can feel it. My body knows that he’s lying to me.
“No, you don’t.”
The lie in the bond pulses like a vein ready to burst.
“You let them knot you,” he spits. “Let them fuck you one after the other like you were a game. Like you didn’t care who it was as long as someone filled you.”
“And you didn’t?” I shoot back. “You didn’t grab me by the throat and shove me against a wall? You didn’t bend me over the bed and fuck me so hard I saw stars? ”
He says nothing.
“Or did you forget the taste of me?” I snap. “Because I remember the way your cock felt at the back of my throat while Ash was still knotted inside me. I remember the way you growled when I wanted it. And I sure as hell remember how much you loved it. ”
Lucian’s face twists. His hands flex at his sides like he’s holding himself back from tearing something apart.
“You think that changes anything?”
“You think I’m ashamed? ” I bark. “You think I regret any of it?”
“You should.”
My chest tightens. My fists clench.
“I tasted you, Rhea,” he hisses, stepping into my space. “I took you. I marked you. But the others did it, too.”
He shakes his head from side to side, warring with himself.
“And I hate that it didn’t make me stop wanting you.”
He’s shaking.
Every word is acid in his mouth.
“I hate that even knowing they’ve had you, I still wake up hard from the memory of you being pressed up against that wall, of your lips around my cock. I hate that when I smell you in another room, I go still like a fucking animal. I hate that I already put my bond inside you and it still wasn’t enough.”
His voice cracks -
And then it’s quiet.
Only our breathing. Only the burn.
Only the bond, thudding in my chest.
“What is it, then?” I whisper. “What’s the real problem?”
He doesn’t answer. So I press.
“Is it your name?” I ask. “The Vale legacy? The family dynasty? Afraid Daddy won’t approve of his perfect heir sharing a bitch in heat with three other alphas?”
His head snaps up.
“You really think this is about them? ” he barks. “You think I give a fuck what anyone outside this house thinks?”
“Yes,” I bite out, stepping close enough to feel his breath on my face. “I think you do . I think you’re scared. Because deep down, you’re pissed off that you’re not the only one I want. Deep down, you’re angry that you’re not enough to claim me alone.”
Lucian loses it.
He slams me back against the wall so hard the air leaves my lungs in a gasp.
His hand wraps around my throat - tight, hot, and grounding.
His mouth is on mine in a flash - biting, furious, possessive.
And the bond?
It detonates.