Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes Chapter 142: Cutest

Chapter 141

Ciel

What the fuck did he just say?

No.

No, I must have misheard.

"Anyway," the nurse continues, voice maddeningly calm, "with your heat approaching, it will be harder to control your pheromones. Be cautious. Start wearing a collar again, since you’re not yet marked."

I stare at him.

My ears ring, a dull rushing sound like blood pounding too close to the surface.

"I know," he adds smoothly, tapping the edge of the tray, "no one would dare touch a prince’s lover. But pheromones influence judgnt. People make... unwise decisions."

Unwise.

My hands curl into fists at my sides. I force my face into sothing neutral, sothing acceptable. If I open my mouth right now, I will say sothing that will echo through palace corridors for days.

"I’m aware of heat protocol," I say stiffly.

"Of course you are," he replies, smiling faintly. "I only ant to advise."

I take the suppressants from the tray and close my fingers around the case a little too tightly. "I don’t need reminders about my own body."

He lifts both hands slightly, mock-placating. "No offense intended."

A lie.

"I’ll start wearing a collar," I say, clipped. "Is that all?"

"For now," he says. Then, as if rembering himself, he adds, "If you experience dizziness, spikes in temperature, or irregular pheromone output, report it imdiately."

"I will," I say, already turning away.

I walk fast, head high—not out of confidence, but because if I slow down I might turn back and do sothing that ends up on tomorrow’s headlines.

Prince’s Lover Assaults Palace Nurse.

No.

Absolutely not.

I will not embarrass Jack.

The corridors blur slightly as I make my way back toward our wing. The palace is too large for my liking;endless marble floors, high ceilings, servants who bow just a little too low.

Everything gleams. Everything watches.

Heat.

Pheromones.

Back to normal, I suppose.

The thought doesn’t comfort . It makes sothing cold settle under my ribs.

Because normal has never felt safe.

Too many tis in my life, pheromones were used as justification. Too many tis alphas claid instinct, claid loss of control, claid biology as if it excused everything.

I exhale slowly.

It’s different now.

It has to be.

I’m not so unprotected oga from a negligible house anymore, standing alone in rooms full of predators disguised as suitors. I am not a whispered opportunity.

I have Jack.

Jack, who would burn this palace down brick by brick if soone touched without permission. Jack, who looks at like I’m not fragile glass but sothing priceless and chosen. Jack, who never once blad instinct for anything.

And Nolan.

Soft, watchful Nolan, who reads the room before I even realize I’m uncomfortable. Who would probably panic first and think later,but would still stand in front of regardless.

I reach our wing and slow down.

Our wing.

The thought settles strangely in my chest. When did it beco ours? When did these long corridors, these guarded doors, this excessive luxury stop feeling temporary?

Maybe I am getting accustod to palace life after all.

The guards still make uneasy. Their posture too straight. Their gazes too sharp. Always aware. Always assessing. Way too many but this number is what Jack insisted on.

Still.

It’s hard to forget what it feels like to be watched.

I step past them and move toward the inner gardens.

That’s where I find them.

Nolan is sitting in the grass, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly disheveled in a way that tells Lanny has been grabbing at it again. Lanny is wobbling determinedly toward a patch of flowers, shrieking in delight every ti he nearly tips over.

They both look up when they hear .

And for a mont, everything else fades.

The sunlight hits Nolan’s eyes just right, turning them impossibly bright—clear, crystalline blue against the soft green of the grass. He squints slightly, smiling when he sees , and the sight of it does sothing quiet and dangerous to my chest.

He’s beautiful.

Before I can overthink it, I close the distance between us.

I lean down and kiss him, and when I pull away his entire face turns pink.

"What was that for?" he asks, blinking at like I just rewired his brain.

"I just wanted to," I reply with a small shrug, though my pulse is a little faster than I’d like.

He lets out a breath that sounds halfway between a laugh and disbelief. "Well... I’m not going to complain."

He looks everywhere except at .

It’s almost painful how obvious he is.

The way his shoulders tense when I’m close. The way his voice lowers unconsciously. The way he always positions himself slightly between and anything that might pose a threat.

How did I not see it before?

Or maybe I did.

Maybe I just wasn’t ready to acknowledge it.

"Daddy!" a tiny, demanding voice interrupts my thoughts.

I look down.

Lanny is tugging at Nolan’s pant leg with surprising strength, glaring up at us as if we’ve personally offended him by existing at mouth-level instead of arm’s reach.

"Yes, Your Highness?" Nolan says solemnly, crouching down.

Lanny points at .

"Mama kiss!"

I choke on a laugh.

Nolan’s blush deepens.

"Oh?" I say, arching a brow. "Is that a command?"

Lanny nods with grave seriousness.

"Clearly he’s Jack’s son," Nolan mutters under his breath.

I burst out laughing.

I lean in and kiss him again just to make his point worse.

Lanny giggles at the sight, delighted with himself, so I scoop him up and plant an exaggerated, loud kiss on his cheek.

"You’re also getting kisses," I declare.

He squeals and tries to shove my face away with his chubby little hands, twisting dramatically in my arms as if I’ve wronged him beyond forgiveness.

It doesn’t work.

I kiss him again.

He’s so cute it almost hurts. Just who’s son is he?

Looking at his red curls and golden eyes, ofcourse he’s mine. Only I would have the cutest baby in the world.