Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes Chapter 62: Why

Chapter 61

Nolan

I want to yank my hand back again, to snap at him, to cover my humiliation with sharp words like I always do. But I don’t.

Because this is what I wanted, right? A chance to seduce Jack.

Except, right now, with my palm spread against the heat of his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath muscle and skin—my brain short-circuits.

I didn’t expect him to pull my hand back when I tried to retreat. Didn’t expect his fingers to curl around mine, firm but careful, pressing back down against him.

"Don’t worry," he murmurs, voice low, dangerously low, his breath brushing my ear. "I won’t bite."

The way he says it makes every hair on my body stand on end. Because I don’t believe him. Not for a second.

Then he guides my hand lower, past the defined plane of his chest, down to the ridges of his abs. My breath catches, stuck sowhere between defiance and surrender.

"Rember," he adds, a crooked smirk curling at his lips, "you’re the doggy here."

I should roll my eyes. I should snarl at him, shove away, say sothing cutting and remind him I’m not his damn pet.

But the words don’t co.

All I can do is gulp, my throat working uselessly while my fingers twitch against the hard line of his stomach. My mind is blank. Or maybe too full—of heat, of want, of panic.

For once, I can’t think of a single snarky coback.

I force myself to look away from his chest, from the trail my fingers are making on his skin, and instead et his eyes.

They are so dark. Such a deep, consuming brown they might as well be black—and right now, they’re drowning , pulling deeper and deeper until I can’t tell if I want to fight or fall.

Rember the lesson. The intent, Ciel’s voice echoes in my head, teasing, commanding, reminding.

I move closer, shifting carefully onto his lap. He doesn’t stop . He doesn’t even flinch. Instead, his hands lock around my waist, firm, holding like I belong there.

My pulse slams against my throat.

I raise my hand, steady though I don’t feel steady at all, and rest it against the back of his neck. Warm skin under my palm, short hair brushing my fingers. He leans into the touch like he’s been waiting for it.

The smirk fades.

For once, Jack looks serious. Dangerous.

His lips part, just slightly, a wordless invitation—or maybe a warning.

I don’t know which.

And my heart nearly stops when his grip on my waist tightens, pulling that fraction closer, closing the space until my breath hitches against his.

Jack looks at my lips, and I swear—swear—this is the mont.

But then he pulls back.

His hands, still gentle, move off his lap like I’m fragile glass that needs careful placing. Not wanted. Not needed. Just... moved aside.

"It’s late," he says, voice maddeningly even. "We should go to bed. Tonight I’m on Lanny duty."

It’s nothing. An ordinary dismissal.

But to ?

It feels like a blade sliding under my ribs.

The rejection hurts more than I could have imagined. More than I expected, it’s devastating.

It’s a familiar pain.

One I’ve grown accustod to with Ciel.

Heartbreak.

Fucking dammit.

I guess I didn’t just like Jack.

I am in love with him.

The realization lands like a blade in my chest, twisting deeper with every heartbeat.

I stand, getting off the bed. My legs feel stiff, my throat tight, but I force myself upright.

I stop the tears.

Barely.

Jack doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even look up from fussing with the blanket, like tucking the damn thing into place is more important than the fact he just crushed .

I turn, heading for the door. Each step is heavy, like I’m dragging a hundred pounds behind . My hand hovers near the doorknob.

I should leave.

I need to leave.

But I pause. My chest heaves. Sothing inside refuses to let it end like this—cold, unfinished, humiliated.

So I pivot back around and take a step toward him. Then another.

He’s still at the bed, shoulders broad, jaw tight, his profile cut sharp in the low light. So calm. So damn calm while I’m falling apart.

"Jack." I say his na, the word breaking in my throat.

He sighs. "Nolan, don’t do this." His voice is quiet, almost pleading, but he won’t look at .

"What’s the aning of this?" The words spill out before I can stop them, bitter and sharp. "I thought we were on the sa page. For weeks—hell, months—there’s been this thing between us, so why can’t you just—" My voice cracks.

"Fucking kiss ."

My heart pounds so loud I can barely hear myself. Nolan, stop. Please stop, I beg myself. But I can’t. I won’t.

"You think I don’t see the way you look at ?" I continue, stepping closer, desperation clawing at my chest. "Please. You fucking want . But you can’t kiss ?" My voice rises, echoing off the walls.

Jack finally looks at then—and it’s not cold, not dismissive. It’s pained. Pained in a way that makes my own fury splinter.

"Nolan," he says, voice hoarse, "don’t. Please."

"I deserve an answer," I demand, my whole body trembling.

Silence. Thick. Suffocating. We just stare at each other, two storms colliding with no escape.

I scoff bitterly and turn for the door. "Forget it—"

The next second, I’m slamd against it, breath knocked out of , Jack’s body caging mine in. His hand grips my jaw, forcing to et his burning eyes.

"Look at ," he commands.

I try to look away, but his hold is firm, unyielding.

"Of course I’m fucking attracted to you," he snarls, low and guttural. "I want nothing more than to turn you around and fuck you against this door until you can’t walk."

Heat shoots straight through , dizzying, devastating.

"Then why?" I whisper, my lips trembling inches from his.

Jack exhales hard, his forehead pressing briefly against mine like it physically hurts him to say it.

Then he pulls back. Just enough to look in the eye.

"I’m in love with Ciel," he says.