The Villain Omega Stopped Loving Him

The champagne flute was cold in Julian's hand. Unsipped. The bubbles rose in silent, frantic streams to the surface. From his spot near the ice phoenix, he had a perfect view of center stage. The sculpture's melting wing dripped onto the white linen, a soft, rhythmic tap-tap-tap that only he seemed to hear. The rest of the Grand Ballroom was a blur of black-tie guests and suffocating perfume, the air thick with the proprietary musk of Alphas and the sugared, pleasing scents of the Omegas on their arms. The banner over the stage said Happy Birthday, Adrian & Julian. But the photographer had only called Adrian's name for the family portrait. Julian had almost corrected him. Almost. Years of practice kept the smile on his face. He saw the back of Xander Sterling's head first. The familiar way his dark hair curled just above his collar. Then Xander turned, and Julian's heart gave a single, traitorous thud. The midnight-blue tuxedo made his shoulders look impossibly broad. When Xander tapped the microphone—twice, he still tapped it twice—the room fell silent. Not out of politeness. Out of anticipation. "To a bond," Xander's voice echoed, deep and smooth, "forged in the fires of adversity." A small, velvet box appeared in his hand. Julian's fingers tightened on the stem of his glass. He knew that box. Five years ago, on a lazy summer night thick with the scent of jasmine, Xander had traced the outline of it on a tablet screen. When we're older. I'll get it for you. A teardrop blue diamond. It had been a promise. Julian noticed, with a dull pang, that Xander still wore the simple leather watch Julian had given him when they were sixteen, half-hidden under the cuff of his bespoke shirt. "Happy twenty-first birthday, Adrian." Xander's expression softened as he turned, a genuine warmth entering his eyes. "You were my light when the world went dark." Adrian covered his mouth. A single, shimmering tear tracked down his cheek. Someone near Julian whispered, "They're perfect together." Xander smiled as he lifted the necklace, the blue diamond flashing cold under the chandeliers. Something in Julian gave way. The glass shattered before he realized he'd thrown it. The crystal hit the base of the ice phoenix, and one frozen wing cracked clean off, skittering across the marble floor. The crash silenced the applause. Shards of crystal and Veuve Clicquot splattered across the hem of a dignitary's gown. A hundred heads turned. "You promised me." The voice that tore from his throat was high, a frayed wire of a sound. Xander's face didn't hold shock. It held a cold, weary recognition. He took a half-step in front of Adrian. "Don't, Julian." Julian was moving before he could think, his polished shoes slipping on the marble steps. A woman near the front covered her daughter's eyes. A man to his left didn't bother to hide his smirk, already tapping at his phone. The sharp, metallic scent of distressed cinnamon bled from Julian's glands, a rancid note cutting through the room's expensive fragrance. "That was mine," Julian said, his voice cracking. "He didn't love you. He just wanted to win." He was on the stage. Adrian was right there. Julian drew his hand back. His palm connected with Adrian's cheek with a sharp, sickening crack. Adrian stumbled straight into Xander's waiting arms. Of course he did. "Julian, please…" Adrian's voice was a trembling wisp, yet it somehow carried. "Why do you always have to ruin everything?" "Security." Xander's voice didn't rise. It dropped, a low, commanding growl that took the air out of the room. "Get this garbage out of my sight. Now." Hands, huge and immovable, locked around Julian's arms. He kicked, a wild, ineffective thrashing, one of his dress shoes scraping a black mark on the polished stage. As the Beta guards dragged him down the center aisle, the crowd parted, revealing his parents. Arthur and Cynthia Vance stared at him, their faces masks of pallid rage. They didn't move to stop it. As soon as he passed, they rushed forward, toward the stage, toward Adrian. "Xander! Look at me!" Julian screamed, his voice disintegrating into a raw sob. He twisted in the guards' grip to look back. Through the gilded lobby and the heavy glass doors they hauled him. The cold, rain-slicked pavement slammed against his scraped palms and drove the breath from his lungs. The hotel door closed with a solid, final thud. Julian crawled to his knees, pressing his face against the cold glass. The party was a distant, warm tableau of shimmering light. He saw Xander holding Adrian, his hand cradling the back of his twin's head. Then, Xander shifted his stance. Over his broad shoulder, Adrian's face came into view. He was looking directly at Julian. The tears were gone. His eyes were clear. Empty. Calm. And then he smiled. A small, slow, private smile. Julian tried to breathe. Nothing happened. The bright lights of the hotel lobby blurred into a single, distant star. He slumped against the stone pillar. The wet concrete was so cold against his cheek. The music from the ballroom upstairs never stopped. It was a muffled, romantic waltz, filtering down through the floors. Julian thought it was fitting. His hand was still clenched. As if he were holding something that had never been his. His vision went dark. His fingers relaxed onto the wet ground. No one outside looked his way.