Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes Chapter 41: Center of the universe

Chapter 40

Jack

"Hey there, little guy."

The words leave in a whisper, shaky and unsure, like I’m afraid to break him with my voice alone.

He’s so small in my arms it feels impossible. Barely the length of my forearm, wrapped in a blanket that seems too big for him. His little face scrunches, mouth wobbling, and then—just like that—he calms. His cries fade, and he blinks those new, golden eyes up at like I’m soone worth trusting.

God.

Guess all that skin-to-skin and pheromone therapy when Ciel was still pregnant worked. Or maybe... maybe he just knows .

I’ve faced guns, knives, n twice my size. I’ve done things I’ll never admit out loud. But this—this tiny life staring at —it scares more than all of it. Because I want so badly not to fail him.

Look at him.

Orange wisps of hair, soft and fine, catch the light. Not quite scarlet like Ciel’s—at least not yet. Ciel told he started the sa way, more copper than fla, until it deepened with age.

I hope it does. I want this kid to look like him.

Because God, he’s cute.

The nurses whispered earlier that the alpha father must’ve been irrelevant, because Nolan Junior—yes, that’s the na Ciel picked—looks like a carbon copy of his oga.

And thank God for that.

Not that it would matter even if he didn’t. But still... every ti I see that tiny nose scrunch, those lashes flutter, those little golden eyes blink open, I feel like the world makes sense for once.

This kid doesn’t belong to the bastard who hurt Ciel. He belongs to the people who will raise him. To Ciel. To . To us.

And fuck, I want that.

I’ve never felt this type of affection before. It’s so odd. So consuming.

I’d give anything for him.

"Hey," I murmur, rocking slightly, as if he needs more comfort than my voice already gives him. His eyes open again, unfocused but shining, gold like sunlight through amber glass.

I grin helplessly. "Aren’t you the most precious?"

***

Ciel

I shift in bed, groaning under my breath. I’ve been sentenced to bed rest because of the stitches.

Haaa.

It’s so boring in bed.

I’ve read the sa magazine three tis, counted the cracks in the ceiling, and even tried to nap, but my body refuses. One thing I am glad about this month? Finally, the culprit responsible for making waddle like a penguin is out of .

Good riddance.

Just then, the door creaks open and Nolan walks in balancing a tray. The sll of soup and rice hits before he even sets it down.

"Lunchti," he says in that no-nonsense voice, like I don’t have a choice.

I wrinkle my nose but my stomach betrays with a loud growl. Ugh.

I try to sit up, but the tug in my stomach stitches makes wince and fall back against the pillows.

Nolan is instantly at my side. "Don’t move. I’ll help you."

Before I can protest, his hands are under my shoulders, gentle but firm, guiding upright. His arm lingers behind as he props pillows so I won’t slide back down.

"There," he says, adjusting the blanket around like so overgrown nurse. "Comfortable?"

I nod.

He smiles, settling in beside with the tray balanced across his knees. And then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he dips the spoon into the soup, blows on it, and holds it out to .

Now, technically, I am capable of lifting utensils. My hands work just fine. But will I say no to being babied and treated like royalty? Absolutely not.

I open my mouth obediently, savoring the first warm bite. "Mmm. Not bad. Way better than yesterday’s."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "I tried my best, okay."

And I smile at him, soft and unguarded.

I take another bite. "It was a complint. You’re improving."

"Uh huh," he says, narrowing his eyes like he’s not entirely convinced I an it.

I continue eating, chewing carefully. "I haven’t seen Jack in hours. Where is he?" I ask offhandedly, like it’s just casual curiosity.

"You know where he is," Nolan says flatly.

"Right," I sigh, already picturing it.

"You’ve been replaced, my sweet," Nolan adds dryly, but I catch the faint curve of his lips.

I exhale dramatically, pressing a hand to my chest. "I knew it was a possibility that Jack would go for a younger, cuter man."

Nolan blinks. "...What?"

"How heartbreaking," I moan, draping a hand across my forehead like I’ve been personally betrayed by fate.

Nolan snorts, shaking his head. "You’re ridiculous."

But then he chuckles, softer this ti, like he can’t help himself. "Well, it can’t be helped. It seems the alpha is smitten."

The warmth that blooms in my chest nearly makes forget the dull ache in my stitches. He really is.

I was worried—more than I let on. Worried about how Jack would react when the baby finally ca, when reality stopped being all baby kicks and cravings and actually turned into diapers and crying at 3 a.m.

But the second he saw him... Jack cried.

Not just misty-eyed, not just a polite sniffle. He cried. Big, unashad tears running down his face like soone had just handed him the sun.

Like he was the father.

And in that mont, I wished he was.

Because the way he looked at my son—it wasn’t obligation. It wasn’t pity. It was love. Fierce, protective, unshakable love.

And God help , I hoped with every part of that it wouldn’t go away.

Though I’ll admit—I’m a little jealous. He’s barely been here five minutes and already he’s stolen all the love, all the attention, every ounce of Jack’s focus.

The baby cries, Jack is there.

The baby sighs, Jack is there.

The baby blinks once too slowly and suddenly Jack is ready to call a doctor.

anwhile, ? I’m the one who wobbled around like a penguin for months, sacrificed my body, my sanity, my bladder control... and sohow the kid’s already usurped as the center of the universe.

I sigh dramatically. "Betrayed. By my own flesh and blood."

Nolan just gives that flat look like he’s heard this a thousand tis before. But I swear I see the corner of his mouth twitch.