THE FATED OMEGA MATE

Chapter 7

It had been a week since Damian and I signed the contract. One of the agreements written inside was something I had nearly refused at first. It was that I moved into his house. The doctor had insisted it would be better for my health if Damian and I lived under the same roof, especially since I needed his pheromones to keep my abnormal heat attacks under control. Still, I couldn’t fully understand why Damian had agreed to such terms. The man despised omegas. He never hid that fact, and he made sure I knew it personally. So why… why allow me so close? Why bind himself with a contract at all?

Despite sharing a roof, I rarely saw him inside the house. Damian’s home was huge, a modern mansion set on the outskirts of the city. It was all clean lines and glass walls, with cold steel railings that reflected the moonlight at night. The rooms were wide and filled with expensive art pieces, though the atmosphere felt more like a display gallery than a home. Too perfect. Too lifeless. Like him.

If we crossed paths at all, it was only in the hallways, and usually with one of his women clinging to his arm. That was the real reason I spent most nights in the garden. The moment he brought someone home, I had to leave the main house before his pheromones drove me insane. And yet, deep down, it wasn’t only the suffocating pull of his scent that bothered me. It was the ache I felt in my chest when I heard someone else screaming his name, drowning in pleasure that could never belong to me. It made me furious. It made me hurt. And worst of all, I hated that I cared.

The garden, at least, offered me peace. It was the one part of the mansion that felt alive. There were neat rows of white roses that carried a faint, sweet fragrance whenever the wind blew. A small pond reflected the stars, the surface broken now and then by koi swimming lazily beneath the water. I often sat there at night, staring up at the sky, counting stars to distract myself from the sounds echoing down the halls.

Tonight was no different. Damian had a woman over again. I had escaped outside, forcing myself to breathe slowly while the walls of the house carried faint noises I didn’t want to hear. I told myself to ignore it, but the truth was, every moan scraped against me like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

An hour later, the sounds finally stopped. Relieved, I slipped back inside, hoping to reach my room before anyone noticed me. But as I turned the corner, I nearly bumped into her.

“Oh… hello. You must be Damian’s assistant, right?” the woman said in a syrupy voice. She was dressed in a tight, crimson dress that shimmered faintly beneath the lights. Her hair spilled over her shoulders in carefully styled waves, and her lips were painted to match her dress. Beautiful. Confident. The kind of woman Damian always chose.

“By the way,” she continued, brushing a curl behind her ear, “Do you know where the butler is? Damian said George would be the one to take me home, since he’s too tired to drive me himself.”

“Yes, madam. I am sure George will be here soon. Please, take a seat,” I answered politely, forcing a smile and putting extra emphasis on George’s name. Inside, my thoughts were burning. George, where the hell are you? I wanted nothing more than to escape her presence. Damian’s pheromones still clung to her skin like a second perfume, and it made my chest tighten, my body hot and restless.

I bowed slightly, turning away. “Please excuse me, mi...”

Before I could finish, the woman stepped closer, tilting her head as though suddenly curious. “You are Elias, right? Damian mentioned you once.”

Her words froze me in place. My heart skipped, and the bitterness I had been suppressing surged again. He… talked about me?

But before I could ask, footsteps echoed down the hallway. Heavy. Familiar. Damian’s presence filled the air even before I turned to look, and my body betrayed me instantly, shivering, trembling from the force of his pheromones rolling in waves.

“You’re an omega, right? Then… have you slept with him?”

The question fell from her lips with the kind of casual cruelty only a woman like her could manage. For a second, I froze. My chest tightened. My secret wasn’t something people spoke of so freely, and yet she tossed it out like gossip at a tea party. My thoughts scrambled only Damian and a very small circle of trusted people knew. He had told her. He must have.

“I..”

“Oh, forgive me.” She smiled, though her eyes sparkled with deliberate malice. “I forgot. Damian doesn’t sleep with omegas.”

The words dug into me deeper than I wanted to admit. I forced my hands to stay still at my sides, though my nails dug into my palms. Really? Do I have to stand here and listen to this woman mock me in my own space?

“Yes,” I said finally, steadying my tone. “Mr. Blackwell won’t sleep with an omega.”

“What a shame.” Her painted lips curled upward, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Damian is so… good. And you’ll never get the chance to enjoy that.”

Her mockery stung worse than the sharpest blade. And underneath it all, her scent betrayed her, beta. I stiffened. A beta bathing so often in alpha pheromones was dangerous. The imbalance could twist their bodies, leave them with irregular heat or worse. My irritation flared into reluctant concern.

“Wake up, Miss,” I muttered, my voice sharper than I intended. "I know you are a beta. Before bed, take the medicine. Otherwise, you will regret it.”

She tilted her head as though I were amused. Then, shockingly, she threw her arms around me, pulling me into a sudden embrace.

“Hey...what are you doing?” My voice pitched higher with alarm as her perfume wrapped around me, thick with Damian’s pheromones still clinging to her skin. The mix made me dizzy, almost sick.

Before I could shove her off, George appeared.

“Sir?” His calm, deep voice was a lifeline.

Relief surged through me. “Please take her home, George,” I said quickly, prying her arms off me. “She’s had enough for tonight.”

George nodded with quiet efficiency, guiding her away. Her perfume lingered, clawing at my senses even as the door closed behind them. My chest rose and fell too fast, the phantom weight of her arms still on me.

I turned to leave, eager to retreat to my room but froze.

Damian was there.

He stood several paces away in the hall, tall and unreadable, his gaze locked on me. His presence was suffocating in its silence, sharper than the strongest reprimand.

Those eyes ,dark, cold, and unblinking, burned through me as though I had committed some grave sin. His jaw was set, his expression carved in stone.

I swallowed hard. My knees felt weak. I didn’t know why he looked so angry. Maybe I didn’t care anymore. My body was frayed from exhaustion, from holding back words and tears I could never afford to show.

“Good evening, Mr. Blackwell,” I murmured, bowing slightly as my voice cracked at the edges. Without waiting for a response, I slipped past him, heart thundering, desperate for escape.

I shut the door to my room and leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. My hands trembled in my lap. My chest ached as if the air itself were heavy, pressing me into the wood.

Why did it feel like every moment with Damian cut me deeper? Why was his silence louder than any insult?

I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, willing the tears back. He would never see me cry. Not again.

And yet, I couldn’t shake the memory of his eyes, burning, unreadable, as though behind that anger was something else. Something I didn’t dare believe in.