Chapter 144: I’ll Say It… You’re My Omega…

Flashback — Little Zyren and Angel:

The car door slams shut, loud and sharp, echoing through the quiet afternoon.

A fourteen-year-old Zyren storms out of the back seat, his school uniform wrinkled, his tie hanging loose and crooked around his neck. His silver hair catches the sunlight as he moves, a flash of pale gold against the dark luxury of the car.

The servants lined up at the entrance bow deeply.

“Welcome home, Young Master.”

Zyren yanks the tie from his neck and throws it. The fabric lands on the face of the nearest servant—a young woman who flinches but doesn’t dare move.

“Shut up,” he mutters without looking, and continues walking.

The servants watch him disappear into the mansion, their faces falling. A murmur spreads among them, quiet and fearful.

“Today, Young Master’s mood is bad again,” one whispers.

Another nods, her voice low.

“I don’t know how he’s going to punish us this time.”

An old woman shakes her head, her eyes sad.

“It’s always like this. He comes home in a bad mood and starts punishing us without any reason.”

They look down, silent, resigned.

Then a soft voice cuts through the tension.

“Aunt Marina?”

They turn.

A young man stands behind them, dressed in the simple clothes of a household servant.

His golden hair catches the light, his features soft and beautiful. He’s holding a mop, a smile bright on his face.

“Aunt Marina,” he says, walking closer.

“I finished mopping the second floor. What should I do next?”

He stops when he sees their faces—the worry, the fear, the sadness written clearly on each one.

“What happened?” he asks, his smile fading.

The old woman sighs.

“Angel, dear. Your little prince is in a bad mood again. We’re all scared.”

Angel’s expression softens. He sets the mop aside and reaches out, touching the old woman’s arm gently.

“Don’t worry. I’ll calm him down. Where is he?”

“He went straight to his room.”

Angel nods, already turning, already walking toward the stairs.

“I’ll handle it.”

——-

The door to Zyren’s room is closed. Inside, the young master lies face-down on his enormous bed, his face buried in a pillow, his small body rigid with anger.

Knock. Knock.

“Don’t disturb me!”

The words are muffled by fabric, but the anger in them is clear.

A soft voice answers from the other side.

“My little prince. It’s me. Angel.”

Silence.

The door opens slowly. Angel steps inside, a glass of cold juice in his hand, condensation dripping down the sides. He sets the tray on the bedside table and sits carefully on the edge of the bed.

“Are you okay, Young Master?”

Zyren doesn’t move. Doesn’t answer.

Angel’s hand reaches out, gentle and careful. His fingers brush through Zyren’s silver hair, stroking softly, soothingly.

“Did they bully you again?”

Still no answer. But Angel sees it—the way Zyren’s small fists clench tighter around the pillow.

Angel sighs softly, his touch never stopping.

“I waited for you all day, you know. I counted the hours until you came home. I thought we could play together, talk about your day.”

He pauses.

“But you’re just ignoring me. That makes me sad.”

Zyren shifts.

Slowly, he sits up. His face is red, eyes bright with the tears he refuses to let fall.

His expression is a storm of anger and hurt, his lips pressed into a pout.

Angel smiles, warm and gentle. He shifts closer, reaching out to touch Zyren’s cheek.

“Your face is red,” he observes.

“But luckily, no fever.”

Zyren looks down at his lap, at his small fingers twisting the bedsheets into knots.

Angel tilts his head, trying to catch his eyes.

“Please, my prince. Tell me what happened.”

He lets his lower lip push out in an exaggerated pout.

“Your angel is worried.”

Zyren bites his lower lip. Hard. His voice, when it comes, is small and broken.

“At school… they said I’m a D-class Alpha.” He swallows.

“They said no one will ever marry me. That I’m trash. Useless.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and painful.

Angel stares at him for a long moment.

Then he cups Zyren’s face in both hands, gently but firmly, tilting it up until their eyes meet.

“My prince.” His voice is soft but firm.

“You don’t need to listen to them. You’re rare. Special. They’re just blind—they can’t see what’s right in front of them.”

A pause.

“And class? Grade? None of that matters as long as you’re a good person.”

Zyren blinks.

“Why do you always say that? ’Be good, be good’?”

Angel smiles.

“Because becoming bitter won’t make the hurt go away.”

Zyren looks away. His voice rises, frustrated.

“It’s not like that. You’re always good, and everyone still scolds you. Mom. Dad. Everyone. There’s no good in this world.”

His small fists clench again.

“Just wait,” he says, his voice dropping, darkening.

“When I grow up, I’ll make everyone regret it. Everyone who was ever mean to me.”

Angel’s thumb brushes gently over Zyren’s cheek, soft as a whisper.

“My little prince. Don’t be evil. That’s not who you are.”

He tilts his head, still smiling.

“And for me? I only get scolded when I actually do something wrong. Nothing else.”

His smiles, warm and bright.

“Now,” he says, reaching for the glass of juice, “let’s drink some cold juice. So your brain can calm down.”

Zyren watches him, something shifting in his young eyes. “Angel.”

“Hmm?”

“When I grow up…” Zyren’s voice is serious, determined.

“Tell me who makes you sad. I’ll beat them up for you.”

Angel freezes for just a moment. Then a smile spreads across his face, bright and beautiful.

“Wow.”

He laughs softly. “Then I’ll take that as a promise. When you grow up, you’ll take care of me.”

Zyren nods firmly.

“Yes. I will. Always. No one will ever hurt my Omega.”

Angel’s eyes widen. His cheeks flush slightly.

“Zyren!”

He glances around nervously. “Don’t talk like that. It’s wrong. If Miss Rose hears you, she’ll punish both of us.”

“Why?” Zyren tilts his head, genuinely confused.

“You’re always with me. You take care of me. So you’re my Omega. What’s wrong with that?”

Angel shakes his head, laughing softly despite himself.

“You’re so stubborn. Please, just be quiet and don’t say that again, okay?”

Zyren crosses his arms dramatically, a tiny pout on his lips.

“I’ll say it. You’re my Omega.”

Angel just laughs, watching this fierce, stubborn, hurt little boy who’s already decided to protect him forever.

And in that moment, neither of them knows how much that promise will one day cost them both.

********

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