Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes Chapter 141: Mine

Chapter 140

Charlie

You don’t just beco palace dical staff.

There are background checks, lineage reviews, psychological evaluations, interviews stacked on interviews—every inch of your life turned inside out and catalogued like a specin under glass.

Unless, of course, your aunt has been the Queen’s personal attendant for over twenty years.

In that case, all it takes is a quiet word over tea, a gentle recomndation wrapped in loyalty and ti, and suddenly you’re standing in white halls that sll faintly of antiseptic and flowers, wearing a badge that feels heavier than it should.

I don’t kid myself. I know exactly how I got here.

But I also know I earned staying.

I’ve always been good at my job.

I think back to the first ti I t Jack before he was the prince.My brother had dragged along to that beach house eting, whispering the price like it was a sacred number, already bracing himself for the usual rich-alpha arrogance. He often did when dealing with alphas.

I rember preparing myself for it.

The entitlent.

The condescension.

The dismissive glance ogas like learn to recognize before we’re old enough to na it.

But Jack wasn’t like that.

He smiled. Asked my na. Looked in the eye.

When he found out I was in nursing school, he didn’t laugh or suggest I’d change my mind once an alpha claid . He just nodded and said, "Good. We need more ogas in dicine."

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I think that was the mont.

Not when things beca physical—though they did, eventually—but when I realized he saw as a person first. Not a convenience. Not a scent. Not a body shaped for soone else’s wants.

I didn’t need his money. I had my own modest inheritance, my own plans. But he insisted anyway, like it was his way of taking care of people, like giving was as instinctive to him as breathing.

And maybe... maybe I let myself believe that was affection.

When things ended, they didn’t end badly. No screaming. No drama. Just distance.

At first, I told myself it was work. Travel. Duty. Alphas like him were always busy, always pulled in a dozen directions. It was easy to believe when I wanted to.

Easy to accept the quieter ssages, the longer gaps, the way nights that used to end with him at my apartnt simply... stopped happening.

Eventually, the truth found anyway.

An oga.

Of course.

It stung more than I expected.

Not because I thought I was special enough to be chosen over fate, but because a small, ugly part of wondered—just once—what it would have been like if it were . If I’d been the one to anchor him.

I didn’t want to baby trap, but I sure regret not doing so, seeing as to how that red haired cunning oga did so and succeeded.

He chose responsibility.

And the oga won.

That’s okay. It’s one of the things that make him so attractive.

I straighten my uniform, smooth the fabric over my hips, check my reflection in the polished surface of a cabinet door. I look composed. Professional. Palace dical staff.

I don’t need to be Jack’s only lover.

That was never realistic, not for a man like him. Alphas in power are rarely monogamous, if ever.

Being here gives proximity. Visibility. Opportunity. Once I have a chance I will snatch a little corner in Jack’s heart for myself.

***

Ciel

"Okay, your body has healed. You can expect your heats to resu," the palace doctor says calmly, sliding a slim case across the desk.

"These are suppressants. The nurse outside will explain dosage and monitoring."

"Thank you," I reply, voice even.

Months, sotis years after giving birth, an oga’s body quiets itself. A pause. A rcy. I knew it wouldn’t last forever, but hearing it spoken aloud still lands heavier than expected.

I step out of the office, the door clicking shut behind .

Your heats will be back.

The words echo, persistent. I pause in the corridor and press my palm briefly to my stomach—not from pain, just to ground myself. My body doesn’t feel weak. It feels... awake. Alert in a way I haven’t felt since before Lanny.

That explains the low fever I’ve been brushing off. The restlessness. The way Jack’s scent has been lingering on my skin longer than usual, curling sowhere deep and warm.

Heat.

My chest tightens. I haven’t even slept with Jack yet...not really. Not across that final line. I don’t want our first ti tangled up in instinct and loss of control.

I want it clear. Chosen. Mine.

I exhale slowly.

Get it together.

I turn toward the nurse’s station.

And stop.

Blond hair. Pale uniform. A face I did not expect to see.

The oga looks up and smiles.

"Small world, isn’t it?" he says lightly, already packing the suppressants into a tray.

I don’t move. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" He keeps his tone pleasant, professional. "My job."

Heat flashes under my skin it’s sharp, unwelco. The urge to drag him by the collar flickers, visceral and ugly. I inhale. Exhale.

I will not embarrass Jack. I will not give anyone a spectacle.

I step closer, silent.

To his credit, he does his job. Explains dosage. Timing. Side effects. He asks about my cycle with clinical detachnt.

"Before pregnancy,regular?" he asks, pen poised.

"Regular," I answer. "Except when circumstances interfered."

He nods and writes sothing down. "These are effective," he continues, "but they’re not permanent. You’ll want to reassess with the doctor if—"

"I understand," I say, curt.

He finishes, slides the tray toward , and finally ets my eyes. There’s nothing obvious there. No triumph. No malice. That’s what makes uncomfortable because, the last ti we were not so cordial.

"Jack is mine," I say quietly.

"Sure," he replies, unconcerned.

My jaw tightens.

"That doesn’t an he can’t also be mine," he adds, just as softly.