Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes Chapter 35: Never be the same

Chapter 34

Ciel

I look at Jack, who’s covering his face on the floor, and I feel shy too now.

I never make the first move.

But I did this ti. I had to.

His reaction throws off though—this is Jack, smug alpha, always so cocky, always teasing Nolan, always so sure of himself. And now? He’s literally curled on the floor like a teenager hiding from the world.

Did I break him?

"Jack?" I whisper, inching closer, biting the inside of my cheek.

He peeks through his fingers like a kid caught stealing cookies. His ears are red. Red. I didn’t even know n like him could blush.

"I, uh..." He clears his throat, still hiding half his face.

"I wasn’t ready for that."

My stomach flips. "You didn’t like it?"

His hands shoot down so fast I nearly laugh. "What? No! I—" He sits up, flustered, hair sticking out in all directions.

"I liked it. Too much. That’s the problem."

Oh.

Heat blooms in my chest. I fiddle with the hem of my shirt, feeling ridiculously exposed. "So... I didn’t ss up?"

Jack groans, dragging a hand down his face like he’s in actual pain.

"Ciel, you could kiss for the rest of my life and I’d still feel like I wasn’t ready."

...That’s probably the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard. And yet my heart stutters.

"Actually." He sits up straighter, closer now.

"What?" I ask, voice thin.

"I wouldn’t mind doing it again."

My heart races.

"Ciel." His voice is low, careful, grounding. "Can I kiss you?"

The world holds its breath.

I nod.

Jack shifts closer, one hand rising—slow, deliberate, like he’s approaching a wild creature that might bolt. His fingers brush my cheek. I should flinch. I always do. But his touch is steady, warm, and I lean into it before I even realize.

His hand cups the back of my neck.

He studies one last ti, like he’s making absolutely sure, and then—

Our mouths et.

I gasp softly into it, my hands gripping his shirt like a lifeline. His other arm cos around , not caging, not demanding—just holding.

His hand tightens on my neck, and his kiss gets more desperate but not desperate—urgent, but controlled.

My knees feel weak, and thank the stars I’m already on the floor. I’m not so inexperienced oga. I’ve been through a lot. I’ve had mouths on before, hands on before. But I swear, this is life-changing. The best kiss of my life.

This isn’t like the fumbling, hungry alphas who wanted nothing but my body. This isn’t like submission or survival.

This is different.

It’s Jack.

He kisses like I matter. And like he wants at the sa ti.

I breathe against his lips, and he swallows the sound, pulling back only enough to murmur against my mouth, "Still okay?"

"Yes." My voice trembles, but it’s the truest yes I’ve ever spoken.

The next kiss is hungry—true to an alpha—and I feel so, so, so—

I can’t help but moan.

He groans in return, his hand sliding into my hair, tugging closer. I’m like a lone boat in a storm, tossed but unwilling to anchor.

When he finally pulls back, I chase him without aning to, my lips brushing his again before I stop myself. He kisses back once more—quick, sure, catching with a nip of my lip before finally pulling away.

I stare at him, wide-eyed, breathless.

He’s smiling.

And my world tilts on its axis.

I think—no, I know—I’ll never be the sa again.

***

Nolan

I watch as Ciel once again keeps pouring the juice, overflowing his cup until the sticky liquid spills over the rim and dribbles onto the counter.

"Okay, that’s enough," I say, plucking the carton out of his hand before he floods the kitchen.

"Oh. Sorry," he murmurs, blinking like he’s just woken up from a dream.

I grab a paper towel and mop up the spill, then turn back to him. He’s standing there, still half gone, eyes unfocused, lips faintly pinker than usual.

My stomach twists.

I hand him the cup, then take his elbow. "Co on."

He blinks at . "Where—"

"To the room." My voice is firr than I intend, but I don’t stop. I guide him down the hall, close the door behind us, and turn the lock with a soft click.

He stiffens slightly, like he knows what’s coming.

"So what is it?" I ask, stepping closer, cornering him without aning to—but maybe I do an to.

"What?" he says, voice light, evasive, avoiding my eyes.

"Ciel." I narrow my gaze. "You’ve been dazed all afternoon. Staring into space. Smiling at nothing. What happened?"

He shifts, fiddling with the hem of his shirt—his tell. Always his tell.

"Nothing," he mutters. "I’m just thinking about things."

I narrow my eyes even further, scanning him.

His cheeks are flushed. His pupils too wide. His mouth—

Then I see it.

"Wait. What’s that?" I point at his lip.

He flinches, instantly covering his mouth with his hand. "Nothing," he says too quickly, eyes darting away.

"Ciel." My tone sharpens.

He tries to walk past . "Probably a bug bite," he throws over his shoulder, like that explains everything.

I move, blocking his path. My chest tightens. My heart beats too fast.

"Don’t lie to ," I say.

He freezes, hand still pressed against his mouth. His eyes flick everywhere but at —the window, the floor, the wardrobe. Anywhere but .

And that’s answer enough.