Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes Chapter 39: Belong

Chapter 38

Jack

Wow.

Such a whiny baby.

I place the ice on his ankle and he hisses like I just branded him with molten iron.

"Relax," I say, holding it steady. "It’s just cold, not death."

"Easy for you to say," Nolan snaps, glaring down at like I’ve personally plotted his downfall. "You’re not the one with a block of frozen misery strapped to your foot."

I smirk. "Want to kiss it better?"

Nolan makes a gagging sound loud enough to startle the cat outside, and I chuckle, unable to help it.

"Try it and I’ll bite your face off," he mutters, jaw tight.

I press the ice a little harder just to watch him twitch. His scowl deepens, but the tips of his ears go pink. Cute.

"You’re such a baby," I tease.

"I’m a baby who could bench-press you," he snaps back.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that."

Before he can respond, a soft voice cuts in.

"Do you two... need so privacy?"

Both of us freeze.

Ciel is sitting on the far end of the couch, swaddled in a blanket like so judgntal little monarch. His golden eyes are narrowed, suspicious, flicking from my hand on Nolan’s ankle to Nolan’s red ears.

For so reason, I suddenly feel guilty—like I’ve crossed so invisible line without realizing. The teasing, the way I like getting reactions out of Nolan... it’s harmless, right? Except Ciel’s still looking at , sharp, like he’s trying to decode sothing I’m not ready to admit.

"Ten minutes with the ice," I say finally, leaning back into the couch, forcing casual into my tone. "Then you’re fine. Don’t milk it."

"Wasn’t planning on it," Nolan mutters, but he doesn’t pull his foot away either. His ankle still rests in my lap, warm through the fabric of my sweatpants. I pretend it doesn’t matter.

Ciel, however, is still watching us like he’s front row at a play. He tilts his head, lips pursed in that way that ans he’s about to say sothing devastating.

"You two fight like an old married couple," he says.

I choke on air. Nolan actually sputters, nearly yanking his ankle back, but I keep my grip firm.

"We do not," we snap in unison.

Ciel’s smile is slow, mischievous, and entirely too pleased. "Oh, you really do. The bickering. The glaring. The dramatic sighs. It’s textbook."

"Don’t lump in with him," Nolan grits out.

"Exactly," I say at the sa ti. Then pause. Then glare at him.

"See?" Ciel gestures between us like a conductor. "Married couple energy."

I run a hand down my face, groaning. "I regret ever letting you near that parenting book with the pop quizzes in it. Now you think you’re so kind of relationship counselor."

"Not counselor," Ciel says sweetly. "Observer."

Nolan groans, pinching the bridge of his nose like he wants to sink through the couch. His ears are still pink.

I glance at him, then back at Ciel. "You’re enjoying this too much."

"Of course I am." Ciel leans back, smug and glowing.

"You’re both ridiculous. And very easy to read."

I don’t answer, because if I do, I’ll confirm what he’s hinting at—that I like Nolan’s reactions too much, that I push just to see his cracks, that I find it... fun. Too fun.

Instead, I shift the ice a little, ignoring Nolan’s sharp intake of breath.

"Ti’s not up yet," I say.

"You’re enjoying this," Nolan accuses, narrowing his blue eyes at .

I shrug. "Maybe. You make the best faces when you’re annoyed."

Ciel hums under his breath. "Old. Married. Couple."

***

Ciel

Aww. They’re cute.

I’m glad they’re getting along—it makes feel lighter sohow.

Nolan doesn’t usually let anyone fuss over him, not even , so watching him sit there while Jack presses the ice to his ankle feels like a little miracle.

I smile, tucking the blanket under my chin.

Maybe Jack’s teasing has finally broken through Nolan’s walls. Maybe they’re bonding.

That must be it.

I don’t notice the way Nolan keeps glaring at Jack’s hand on his ankle, or the way Jack smirks every ti Nolan twitches.

I just see two people I care about... bickering.

And it makes happy.

***

Nolan

Embarrassing.

That’s what this is.

, stuck on the couch with my ankle propped on Jack’s lap, his stupid warm hand steadying it like he’s so kind of nurse. Too close. Way too close. And Ciel—sweet, oblivious Ciel—is sitting there beaming like this is so kind of friendship milestone.

Friendship.

Right.

He doesn’t see how close Jack is. How his fingers linger a little longer than they need to. How his eyes flick up at with that infuriating glint that says he knows exactly what he’s doing.

What a truly fucked-up situation this is.

This stupid love triangle, except it’s not even a triangle.

Jack and Ciel are orbiting each other like planets. And ? I’m screaming from the outside, so satellite circling, burning up, wishing I could fall into their gravity.

Only the pressure of his hand on my leg doesn’t make feel outside. The opposite. It makes feel... tethered. Grounded. Like for just this mont, I belong here too.

And that’s the worst part.