To ruin an Omega Nov Chapter 162: The garden

Chapter 162: The garden

FIA

The darkness gave way to gold.

It was warm and it felt soft. Afternoon sunlight filtered through leaves above . I blinked and the world ca into focus. A garden stretched out before . Rows of herbs and flowers I half recognized. The scent hit

next. The earth... green things and sothing else. Sothing that made my chest ache.

I knew this place.

"Fia, co here."

My head turned toward the voice. My body moved before my mind caught up. Small steps. Child steps. I looked down and saw my hands. Tiny. Unmarked by scars or years.

Mother knelt between two raised beds. Her hair fell loose down her back. No pins. No careful arrangent. Just her. The sun caught in the strands and turned them copper.

She smiled when she saw . That smile I’d almost forgotten. The one that reached her eyes and crinkled the corners.

"Look at this." She gestured to a plant with silver-green leaves. "Do you rember what this is?"

I shook my head. The motion felt strange. Like moving through water.

"Lavender." She plucked a sprig and held it out to . "Here."

I took it. The leaves felt soft. Fuzzy almost.

"Sll it," she said.

I brought it to my nose and inhaled. The scent filled my lungs. Sweet but sharp. Floral but not overwhelming. Sothing that made my shoulders drop and my breathing slow.

"What do you sll?" Mother’s voice stayed gentle. Patient.

"Flowers," I said. My voice ca out higher. Younger. "But not like the roses in the main garden. This is different."

"Good." She nodded. "What else?"

I breathed in again. Deeper this ti. "Sothing clean. Like soap but not soap."

"Anything else?"

I closed my eyes. Focused. "Sothing bitter underneath. Just a little."

When I opened my eyes, Mother was watching . Her expression had changed. Pride shone there. Clear and unmistakable.

"You have a gift." She reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "You should always trust your sense of sll. Ours is unique."

The words settled into . Warm and certain.

"Is it sothing specific to our side of the family?" The question tumbled out before I could stop it. "Like how Hazel heals much faster than ?"

Mother’s hand stilled. Her smile didn’t fade but sothing shifted in her eyes.

She looked at

for a long mont. Then she nodded. "Of course."

I scuffed my foot against the dirt. "That isn’t as cool though."

"But it is." Mother leaned forward. Her hands moved to another plant. This one had broader leaves. Darker green. "With different herbs, you can achieve several results. Healing. Soothing. Protection. So can even harm if used wrong."

The words stirred sothing in . Unease crept up my spine.

"We only know this because Ogas have weaker genes right?" I kept my eyes on the plant. "Ours is even worse than most."

"Who told you that?"

The sharpness in her voice made

look up. Mother’s expression had hardened. Not angry. This was sothing else. Sothing protective and fierce.

"I heard the servants," I said. My voice ca out small.

Mother set down the plant she’d been holding. She shifted closer and took both my hands in hers. Her palms were warm. Calloused from the garden work.

"Trust ." She spoke slowly. Deliberately. Each word its own sentence. "There is nothing defective about you. Or ."

I nodded. The tightness in my chest loosened just a fraction.

"Hazel will go visit grandpa and grandma soon." I changed the subject. Turned it toward safer ground. "Since they don’t want us there. Can we go to yours?"

Mother’s smile died.

The change happened so fast I almost missed it. One mont she looked open and warm. The next her face went blank. Carefully blank.

"Co here, Fia."

She pulled

closer. Her fingers moved to my hair. She gently touched it. Smoothing. Arranging. The motions felt automatic. Like she needed to keep her hands busy.

"I don’t have a family outside of here." Her voice stayed level but sothing underneath it cracked. "You and this pack and your father are my family."

"Why?" I tilted my head back to look at her. "Did they die?"

Mother’s hands paused. Just for a heartbeat. Then continued their gentle movents.

"It was a horrid thing that happened." She stared at sothing beyond . Beyond the garden. "But it was a long ti ago."

The weight in her words pressed down on both of us. Heavy and suffocating.

"But you need to know that there is nothing wrong with you, Fia." She focused on

again. Really looked at . "You are magic."

I wrinkled my nose. "Everybody’s parents says that. Even stepmother I am sure."

"No." Mother shook her head. A small smile tugged at her lips. Real this ti. "I an it, Fia. You are going to be a miracle. You never fall sick like . You have Alpha blood in you."

"Stepmother says I got most of everything from you." The words ca out matter of fact. Clinical. "I’m still an Oga."

Mother leaned in close. So close I could see the flecks of gold in her eyes. I could also sll the lavender on her fingers.

"I’ll tell you a secret."

Her lips moved. Ford words. But no sound ca out. The garden blurred at the edges. Colors bled together. The warmth of the sun faded.

"Mother?" I reached for her. "What secret?"

But she was already dissolving. Breaking apart like mist. The garden went with her. The plants and the soil and the golden light. Everything pulled away like soone yanked a tablecloth from underneath a full table setting.

Darkness rushed back in.

Then nothing.

Then sothing.

A rumble beneath . Steady and rhythmic. The hum of an engine. I felt movent. The gentle sway of a vehicle in motion.

My eyes opened slowly. The world ca back in pieces.

Dim interior.

The sll of leather.

The press of a shoulder against my temple.

I lifted my head. Pain throbbed at my throat. But when I reached for it, there was nothing there.

I turned and looked up.

Cian stared down at . His expression shifted from distant to focused the mont our eyes t.

"Hey," he said.

Sothing wet tracked down my cheek. Then another. I realized then that I was crying. Not sobbing. Just silent tears that slipped free without permission.

"What is wrong?" Cian’s voice carried a note of concern I rarely heard from him.

I lifted a hand to my face. Wiped at the tears. They kept coming anyway.

"I had a dream." The words scraped out of my throat. Raw and painful.

Cian didn’t respond right away. He just watched . Waited for

to continue or fall back to sleep. I couldn’t tell which he expected.

But I couldn’t sleep. Not now. Not with the mory of Mother’s face so fresh. Not with her voice still echoing in my ears. Not with the secret she almost told

hanging there. Unfinished. Unknown.

It was a mory. A mory I didn’t quite rember because it was so long ago.

I pressed my hand to my head. The motion did nothing to stop the ache building behind my eyes.

Finally, he spoke. "What did you dream about?"

"I’m not sure." I confessed.