The Cursed Omega's Revenge

Chapter Fifteen

SAMIRA

My body don't belong to me anymore.

I wake before dawn with skin that burns cold, like moonlight's taken up residence in my veins. The bruises from Holly's boots—they're gone. Not faded. Gone. Smooth golden skin where purple-black should paint my ribs for days more. My fingers trace the absence, and silver threads pulse beneath my touch, visible for a heartbeat before sinking back into flesh.

Something's changing. Has been changing since I pressed that needle into Hector's neck, since Gabriel's mouth taught mine a new language in the bell tower. My wolf might be locked away, but something else stirs in that hollow space. Something that tastes of old magic and patient fury.

"Mud." Rosie's whisper cuts through my thoughts. "Hugo needs tending."

Right. Hugo. Beautiful boy from Mississippi who bleeds silver when cut deep enough. I find him curled in Mickey's old corner, fever-bright and shaking. The Betas had their fun again last night while I was—

Heat floods my face. While I was learning what my body could do beneath Gabriel's hands.

"Hey." I kneel beside Hugo, press my palm to his burning forehead. The silver threads respond instantly, reaching for their own kind. "Let me see."

Fresh bite marks map his shoulders. Claw marks spell possession down his back. But when I touch each wound, they close faster than they should. Not my doing—his body drinks in my strange energy and uses it to heal itself. We're connected somehow, this broken boy and I, by silver that shouldn't exist in either of us.

"What are you?" His green eyes focus with effort.

"Nothing. Nobody. Just another omega trying to survive."

But the lie sits heavy now. I'm something. Don't know what, but Gabriel looks at me like I'm precious, and my body heals impossibly fast, and sometimes I swear I feel moonlight singing in my bones.

"Come on." I help him stand. "Elder care today. They won't hurt you there."

The dying rooms smell worse each day. Budget cuts, they say, but we all know the truth—Remus diverts the funds meant for their care into his own pockets. I set Hugo to changing linens while I handle the harder work. Bathing bodies that barely remember being human. Spooning thin gruel between lips that forgot how to swallow. Checking for bedsores that bloom like roses on tissue-paper skin.

"Let me help with that."

Gabriel appears like smoke, already reaching for the heavy basin I'm struggling with. Three days since our bell tower encounter, and my body still remembers everywhere he touched. The other omegas pretend not to notice how he shows up wherever I'm working, how his eyes track me with barely leashed hunger.

"Shouldn't you be investigating something important?" But I let him take the weight, our fingers brushing in the transfer. Lightning races up my arm at the contact.

"This is important." He carries the basin like it weighs nothing, muscles flexing beneath his shirt in ways that make my mouth dry. "Documenting the systematic neglect of elder pack members. Very thorough investigation."

We work in companionable silence, but the air between us crackles. Every accidental touch sends heat pooling low in my belly. When he reaches past me for clean towels, his chest brushes my back and I have to bite my lip against the sound that wants to escape.

"You're different." He says it quiet, meant just for me. "Healing faster. Moving easier. The injection should have weakened you, but instead..."

"Instead I'm becoming something else." The admission slips out before wisdom can catch it. "Something that scares me."

His hand finds mine, hidden by the body we're tending. "You don't have to be scared. Not of what you are. Not with me."

Before I can respond, the door slams open. Remus fills the frame, and the temperature drops twenty degrees.

"Omega." His voice slides over my skin like oil. "My office. Now."

I follow on legs that want to shake but won't. Gabriel's eyes burn into my back, and I feel his wolf's rage like heat against my spine. But he can't interfere. Not without blowing everything.

Remus's office still smells of his brother's blood, twenty years later. Or maybe that's my imagination, painting truth over lies. He circles his desk, settles into the chair that should have been inherited, not stolen.

"Hector's still in the medical wing." Each word precisely placed. "Wolfsbane poisoning, they say. Silver nitrate in his blood. Curious, don't you think?"

I keep my eyes down, counting heartbeats. "Yes, Alpha."

"Look at me."

I raise my gaze slowly, let him see exactly what he expects—a broken omega, cowed and careful. Twenty years of practice makes the mask perfect.

"Where were you three nights ago?"

"Kitchen until midnight. Then the omega quarters."

"Anyone see you?"

"Rosie. Tam. The usual."

He studies me with those blue eyes that hide rot behind beauty. Looking for cracks, for tells, for the savage satisfaction I felt watching Hector convulse. But I learned to lie before I learned to read. Learned to show nothing while feeling everything.

"You know what I think?" He leans back, casual as a snake. "I think someone's helping the omegas. Someone with access to medical supplies. Someone who knows which omegas to protect."

My heart thunders, but my face stays empty. "If someone's helping omegas, I ain't seen it."

"No?" He rises, comes around the desk. I force myself still as he grips my chin, tilts my face to the light. "You look different. Healthier. Been eating better?"

"Same as always, Alpha."

"Hmm." His thumb presses against my bottom lip, and bile rises in my throat. This close, I smell the corruption beneath his cologne. "Maybe I should keep a closer eye on you. Maybe you need special attention, like Hector was giving."

"If that's what Alpha wants."

The empty submission satisfies him. He releases me with a small shove. "Get out. But know this—when I find who's responsible for Hector, they'll wish for something as gentle as wolfsbane."

I flee on steady legs, but inside the silver threads pulse with fury that wants to manifest as claws. Outside his office, I lean against the wall, breathe through the urge to go back and show him exactly what I'm becoming.

"You okay?" Gabriel materializes from shadow, green eyes dark with barely controlled violence.

"Fine." But my hands shake now that I'm safe. "He doesn't suspect. Not really. Just fishing."

"Come on." He takes my elbow, guides me through empty corridors. "You need a break."

"I need to finish—"

"The elders can wait an hour." His voice brooks no argument. "You need to remember you're more than their servant."

He leads me to the bell tower, our sanctuary in this place of suffering. Afternoon light streams through broken windows, painting everything in gold and shadow. The moment we're inside, he spins me against the wall, cages me with his body.

"I wanted to kill him." The words come out raw. "When he touched you. When he threatened you. I wanted to tear out his throat."

"Can't blow your cover." But my hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer. "Not for me."

"For you?" He laughs, dark and dangerous. "I'd burn this whole world for you."

Then his mouth is on mine, hungry and demanding. I open for him instantly, already addicted to his taste—pine and storm and barely controlled violence. He kisses like he's trying to brand me from the inside out, tongue sliding against mine in a rhythm that makes me forget everything but the feel of him.

"Missed you." I gasp when he lets me breathe, then drag him back down. "Missed this. Been thinking about it. About you. About what else you could teach me."

He groans into my mouth, hands sliding down to grip my hips hard enough to bruise. "You can't say things like that. Not when we have to stop."

"Do we?" I nip at his bottom lip, drunk on the power of making this controlled man shake. "Do we have to stop?"

"Samira." My name is prayer and curse combined.

"I dream about you." The confession pours out between kisses. "Wake up aching. Don't even know what I'm aching for, just know you could fix it."

His control snaps. He lifts me, wraps my legs around his waist, and claims my mouth like he's trying to devour me. I meet him with equal hunger, years of emptiness filled with this burning need. His hands slide under my dress, find bare thighs that part eagerly.

"So responsive." Wonder in his voice as I shudder at his touch. "So perfect. Do you know what you do to me?"

"Show me." The boldness surprises us both. "I want to know. Want to feel what I do to you."

He presses harder against me, lets me feel the rigid length of him through his jeans. The size of him makes me gasp, equal parts intimidation and intrigue. My hips roll instinctively, seeking friction, and he tears his mouth from mine to groan against my throat.

"f**k. You're going to kill me."

"Is that what this is called? This feeling?" I rock against him again, watch his eyes roll back. "Like I'm burning from inside. Like I need something only you can give me."

"That's desire, baby." His hands slide higher under my dress, thumbs tracing the edge of my underwear. "That's your body telling you what it wants."

"And what does it want?"

He pulls back to meet my eyes, and the raw hunger there makes me clench around nothing. "Me. Inside you. Filling you. Making you come until you can't remember your own name."

The words paint pictures I don't fully understand but desperately want to. "I don't... I've never..."

"I know." Gentle now, reverent. "And we won't. Not here. Not like this. You deserve better than a dusty tower floor for your first time."

"I don't care about deserving." Frustration colors my voice. "I care about feeling. You make me feel, Gabriel. Like I'm real. Like I'm alive."

He captures my mouth again, slower this time but no less intense. His tongue traces mine, teaching me rhythms that make my whole body pulse. When his hand cups me through my underwear, I nearly combust.

"Already so wet." His voice is gravel and need. "Is this what thinking about me does to you?"

"Yes." No point in lying when the evidence soaks through cotton. "I don't understand it. My body's never... I've never gotten wet before. Never felt empty. But with you—"

He circles that spot that made me see stars last time, and my words dissolve into whimpers. Even through fabric, his touch sets me on fire. I'm climbing already, body remembering the pleasure he showed me.

"That's it." He watches my face like I'm performing miracles. "Let me see you. So f*****g beautiful when you let go."

"Need more." I'm shameless, grinding against his hand. "Need... I don't know... just more."

He hooks his finger in my underwear, pulls it aside. The first touch of skin on skin makes us both groan. I'm slick and swollen, and when he slides one thick finger inside me, my head falls back against the wall.

"Tight." He works me slowly, carefully. "So perfect. Made for me."

I can't speak, can only hold on as he finds a rhythm that has me climbing higher. His thumb finds that bundle of nerves while his finger explores, and when he adds a second finger, stretching me, I see stars.

"Look at me when you come."

I force my eyes open, meet his gaze as everything tightens, coils, snaps. My release crashes over me in waves, internal muscles clamping down on his fingers while I bite his shoulder to muffle my cries.

He works me through it, whispering praise against my ear. When I finally slump against him, boneless and spent, he slowly withdraws his hand. This time I watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth, tastes me with a groan that vibrates through his chest.

"Better than I imagined." His voice is wrecked. "And I've been imagining a lot."

"What about you?" I can feel him still hard against me, can see the strain in his jaw. "Don't you need...?"

"Not today." He sets me down carefully, adjusts my dress with hands that shake slightly. "Today was about you. About showing you what your body can do. What we can be together."

Before I can protest, footsteps echo on the stairs below. We spring apart, him stepping back while I smooth my dress and try to look like I haven't just had my world rearranged.

"Mud?" Tam's voice, worried and small. "You up there?"

"Coming." My voice cracks, and Gabriel's eyes flash with masculine satisfaction.

"Rosie says you need to come." Tam appears, eyes darting between us with too much knowledge for eight years. "Something's happening. Pack meeting called. Mandatory attendance."

My blood chills. Mandatory pack meetings mean public punishment. Mean examples being made.

"Go." Gabriel's hand brushes mine briefly. "I'll follow separately."

I descend on unsteady legs, Tam's small hand in mine. My body thrums with aftershocks, and the silver threads pulse with each heartbeat, whispering changes I don't understand. Between my thighs, I'm wet and swollen, marked by his touch in ways that feel permanent.

Behind us, Gabriel's presence burns like a promise of more. More pleasure. More discovery. More of whatever this thing between us is becoming.

But first, we face whatever horror Remus has planned for his mandatory meeting.

And something tells me that after today, nothing will be the same.