Chapter 111 ROGUE KILLER
SEBASTIAN'S POV
A few wolves glance over as I cough violently with my face red and hunch lower over my bowl.
“Oh just listen to how wrecked he sounded when you said ‘Alpha’,”
Alisander whispers in my mind, sounding gleeful. ‘Again. Alpha’.”
“Stop it,” I hissed under my breath.
“I bet he’s jerking off right now thinking about your little fingers inside yourself. Want to check just so we're sure?”
My cock twitches again, this traitor!
I shove another spoonful into my mouth to keep myself from either snorting or moaning.
People are staring now and it's not the usual quick glances or anything that I get now that I'm the Alpha’s favorite Omega, no.
This is all completely new.
This is different and longer.
Some wolves drop their eyes very quickly when I look up while others hold my gaze a second too long like they’re trying to see something.
The breakfast hall feels a lot smaller than it did five minutes ago as I try to make myself seem even smaller.
The murmurs I've been ignoring since I walked in have now grown louder and people's speech were now overlapping each other.
“…heard he ripped its throat out with his teeth…”
“…an Omega? No way…”
“…blood everywhere, they said the clearing looked like a slaughter pen that day…”
I kept my eyes on the bowl as I slowly watched my porridge grow cold. I haven’t taken a bite in ten minutes since I acknowledged the whole murmurings.
A group of she wolves, three of them, stop near my table.
What was this? A scene from high school or something?
They don't say a word or even sit, they just stand close enough that I can smell they're all wearing the same jasmine perfume.
The tallest one, Lila, crosses her arms and tilts her head.
“So,” she says loud enough for half the country to hear, “you’re the big bad Rogue killer now?”
I don’t look up but I hear her friends snicker.
“Must’ve been some Rogue,” the second one, a brunette called Maris, says. “Tiny little thing like you? I bet you tripped over it and it broke its neck right on your shoe.”
More laughter from all of them that sounded like… plastic.
Do they practice their own laughter in the mirror or something?
I keep staring at the congealing oats in front of me regardless.
Lila leans in, her voice dropping to a mocking whisper. “Come on, Sebastian. Tell us how you did it. Did you cry while you tore its guts out? Or did you just scream for the Alpha to come save you?”
I feel my cheeks burn but not from embarrassment this time, it's from anger. Quiet, slow burning anger.
How dare they mock my dear?
Alisander stirs in the back of my mind, lazy and amused. “Want me to show them what you really did? I’ve got the memory saved. One little push and all they’ll see is the blood on your hands.”
“No,” I snapped back. “Stop it.”
“You sure? I could send them the part where you–”
“Alisander.”
I couldn't afford a scandal or trouble right now that I'm not even sure of what I am.
He chuckles. “Fine. But you’re no fun.”
Lila straightens, clearly annoyed I’m not reacting at all. “What’s the matter, Omega? Too shy to brag? Or maybe you didn’t do it at all. Maybe someone else killed the Rogue and you’re just soaking up the attention, how pathetic.”
Maris snorts. “An Omega playing hero. That's cute but we all know the truth. You couldn’t kill a rabbit without fainting yourself.”
The third girl giggles. “He probably fainted anyway. That’s why there was so much blood, from his own nosebleed.”
They laugh again, louder this time, all very performative.
I finally lift my head and they stop.
I don’t say anything. I just look at them, I really look. Not angry and not scared but just… tired.
Lila falters for half a second. Then she huffs as she tosses her hair and turns away.
“Whatever. Enjoy your little minute of fame Omega.”
They leave with their hips swaying as their voices trail behind them like smoke.
The hall is quieter now as the whispers have shifted and the wolves have gone either curious looking or looking at me with respect.
I go back to my porridge.
It’s still cold.
Alisander’s voice is soft this time, almost careful. “You didn’t have to stay silent, you know.”
“I didn’t want to give them anything,” I mutter. “They want a reaction. They want me to prove I’m something I’m not.”
“Or something you are.”
I don’t answer.
A minute later another snippet slips through the bond from the bastard–
Ragnar’s broken groan from last night, the exact moment he snarled my name and came.
I choke again and this time on air.
“Alisander!”
“What?” he says innocently. “You looked like you needed a distraction, you're welcome.”
“I’m in public!”
“So? No one can hear what I’m showing you, relax. Besides…” His tone turns wicked again. “You liked watching all of it, don’t go pretending you didn’t.”
My cock gives another traitorous twitch as I shove the tray away and stand.
I can’t stay here.
The stares follow me all the way to the door but I don’t look back, I just walk faster.
Alisander chuckles again in my mind at my reaction to being the center of attention.
“They'll get used to it, pup.”
“Or they won’t,” I think back.
“Either way,” he says, sounding almost gentle, “you’re not hiding anymore.”
I don’t reply, I just continue walking.
Alisander’s voice is quieter now, sounding almost thoughtful. “They should be afraid. You’re not just an Omega anymore. You never were in the first place anyway.”
“I just don’t want them to be afraid of me,” I whisper.
“Too late pup.”
I head for the sketch grove right behind my cabins. It's quiet, shaded and usually empty by this time of the day.
I brought the book from Torin, my charcoal and a fresh sheet of paper.
Maybe drawing will steady me and calm me down.
I settle against a tree trunk, open the book for reference and start sketching.
And for the first time in practically forever… I do not draw Ragnar.
To Alisander's disappointment, I don't draw Ragnar's hands, his face or even the absurd nude picture Alisander was asking for.
I drew the Rogue instead.
Trying to calm myself as I come face to face once again with the thing that almost killed me.
My hand moves faster as I draw the aftermath of everything. The torn flesh from me, shattered bones from him and the blood everywhere.
When I finish, my fingers are black with charcoal and the page looks brutal.
Alisander is quiet for once as I stare at the drawing.
“That’s who I am now,” I whisper to him.
“No,” he answers softly. “That’s who you had to become to survive.”
I closed the book.