Chapter 26 Chapter 26: The Omega’s Heart

Chapter 26 Chapter 26: The Omega’s Heart
Calistra’s POV

I watched his shadow disappear into the darkness of the courtyard, my heart still thumping against my ribs like a trapped bird. 

The air in the garden shed felt cold the moment he left, and the silence was heavy. 

My cheek still tingled where his hand had touched me, and my ankle throbbed with a dull, steady heat.

"A nuisance," I whispered to the empty room. My voice sounded small, even to my own ears. 

"A clumsy, irritating nuisance."

I looked down at my scraped palms. The blood was starting to dry, mixed with the dirt from the floor. 

He had looked at me with so much intensity, like I was the only thing in the world, and then, in a second, it was gone. Replaced by that familiar look of disgust.

I sucked in a sharp breath and tried to stand. The moment I put weight on my left foot, a sharp pain shot up my leg. I hissed, falling back onto the bench.

"Great," I muttered. "Just great."

I had to get back to my quarters. I didn't want the healer he promised. I didn't want anything from him. 

If I stayed here, some guard would find me, and then the whole pack would know that the Alpha’s son had to carry the "low-life Omega" because she couldn't even walk across a courtyard without falling.

I managed to find a sturdy fallen branch outside the shed door to use as a makeshift crutch. 

The walk back to the servant quarters felt like it took years. Every step was a battle. My mind, however, was moving a lot faster than my body.



Why? That was the only word screaming in my head. Why did I let him get that close? 

Why didn't I slap him when he pinned me in that library chair?

I am an Omega. I’ve lived my whole life knowing my place. I’m the girl who scrubs the floors, the one who stays in the shadows, the one who is "weak" by pack standards. 

And Rafael? Rafael is a prince. He’s the son of the Alpha, a warrior, a man who has had every beautiful woman in the territory at his beck and call. 

He is also the most arrogant, heartless person I have ever met.

He had spent the last three hours trying to break me. 

He sent me on errands that made no sense just to watch me suffer. He laughed at my exhaustion. He treated me like a dog.

"So why," I asked the moon as I limped across the grass, "did my heart skip a beat when he touched my face?"

I hated myself for it. I felt ashamed. A girl like me should know better than to feel a spark for a man who treats her like trash. 

But when he held me... when the pain in my chest suddenly went quiet... it felt like I had finally found a place to breathe.

Snap out of it, Zara, I told myself, biting my lip against the pain in my ankle. He doesn't want you. 

He hates the bond. He hates that the universe chose someone like you to be his match. He would rather kill you than love you.


I finally reached the small, cramped room I called home. I sat on the edge of my narrow bed, staring at the wall. My thoughts were a mess.

I remembered the way he looked when he saw me fall. For a split second, the "Playboy Rafael" mask had cracked. 

I saw genuine terror in his eyes. He had jumped off a second-story balcony just to reach me. He had held my foot in his lap with hands that were surprisingly gentle.

And then there was the smell. Even now, with him gone, I could still smell his sandalwood and expensive leather and something raw, like a storm coming. 

My wolf, usually quiet and shy, was pacing inside me, whining for him to come back.

"He pushed you, remember?" I told my wolf. 

"He called you a nuisance. He told you not to expect help ever again."

But my wolf didn't care about words. My wolf only cared about the way our souls seemed to click together when he was near.

I leaned my head back against the cold stone wall. I knew the stories. I knew about the mate bond. 

People said it was a gift from the Moon Goddess, a perfect union. But to me, it felt like a curse. 

How can it be a gift when it ties you to your bully? How can it be perfect when it makes you want someone who thinks you’re a mistake?

I reached out and touched my cheek again. I could still feel the phantom heat of his skin.

"He's an Alpha's son," I whispered into the dark. 

"And I'm just Zara. The girl who organizes spices."

I thought about his life. The parties, the women, the power. He wanted to be "untouchable." 

He didn't want to be softened by a girl who had nothing to offer him but a kind heart and a stubborn streak.

I felt a tear slip down my face, and I quickly wiped it away. I wouldn't cry for him. I wouldn't let him see me break. 

If he wanted to play this game of hate, fine. I would play. I would do every task, I would endure every insult, and I would never ever let him know that for one tiny second in that shed, I wanted him to kiss me.

I lay down, but sleep wouldn't come. My ankle was throbbing, but the ache in my chest was worse.

I kept seeing the way his eyes darkened when he leaned in. He was struggling just as much as I was. He was fighting his wolf, fighting the bond, and fighting his own heart.

“Because you're the only thing in this world I can't control. And it's driving me insane.”

His words echoed in my mind. He didn't hate me because I was weak. He hated me because I had power over him, a power I didn't even want.

I rolled onto my side, clutching my pillow. I was an Omega, and he was an Alpha. In our world, he held all the cards. But in the world of the bond, we were equals. And that terrified him.

"You're a coward, Rafael Prickette," I murmured as I finally felt the pull of sleep. 

"You're a big, strong warrior, and you're scared of a girl with a sprained ankle."

As I closed my eyes, I didn't dream of the chores or the heavy crates. 

I dreamed of a forest, and a silver wolf, and a pair of blue eyes that looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world.

I woke up a few hours later to the sound of a soft knock on my door. My heart jumped. 

Was it him? Had he come back?

I sat up, ignoring the sting in my leg. "Who is it?"

"The doctor, Miss Zara," a kind, older voice replied. "Master Rafael sent me to check on your injuries."

The hope that had flared in my chest died instantly, replaced by a cold, hard knot. He didn't come himself. He sent a servant. Of course he did.

"Go away," I said, my voice cracking. "I’m fine."

"I have strict orders, Miss. Master Rafael said I wasn't to leave until your ankle was wrapped and your wounds were cleaned."

I laughed, a bitter, dry sound. Even when he was "helping," he was still giving orders. He couldn't just be kind; he had to be a boss.

"Fine," I said, lying back down and staring at the ceiling. 

"Come in."

As the doctor worked on my foot, I made a promise to myself. I wouldn't fall for the Alpha's son. 

I wouldn't let his "intimate moments" fool me. He was a heartless playboy who hated my very existence, and I was going to make sure I hated him back even if my heart was screaming otherwise.