Fallen General's Omega (BL)
Chapter 70: Hurt

Chapter 70: Hurt

I’m sparring with these guys, and despite it being four against one, they still haven’t managed to beat me. Their grunts and frustrated breaths fill the air, but my focus remains sharp. Victor groans from the floor, clutching his side where I landed my last hit.

"Boss, you’re real active today," he wheezes, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"You’re just weak," I respond dryly, rolling my shoulders to shake off the tension. My shirt clings to my skin, soaked through with sweat, so I tug it off and toss it aside. The cool air feels good against my chest, but the sudden whistle from Raul catches my attention. I narrow my eyes at him.

"It seems like the consort did a number on your back," Raul says with a grin, motioning to the faint stinging sensation I’ve been vaguely aware of.

I glance over my shoulder, catching the sight of the scratches and marks Noelle had left on my skin. A sense of pride swells in my chest. Those marks are reminders of him, of us, of the passion we share.

"It’s only natural," I say casually, though there’s an unmistakable pride in my voice. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

I stretch, my muscles aching slightly from the workout, and decide it’s time to call it a day. "I’m heading for a bath," I announce, grabbing my towel. .

I think back to how things used to be, back when I had nothing to do but lounge around all day, maybe chopping some firewood if I felt like it. Life was simpler then.

*

The maid leads me through the castle, her steps quick and assured. "He’s in there," she says, gesturing toward the greenhouse. I nod, silently dismissing her before stepping inside.

The sight that greets me makes me stop in my tracks. The greenhouse is flourishing, far more than I expected for how recently it was established. There are rows of vibrant flowers, budding vegetables like tomatoes, and even fruits—grapes and strawberries hanging from vines. The assortment is dizzying. It’s as if I’ve stepped into a piece of Elaris’ heaven, so lush and lively. Should it really be thriving like this so soon?

In the midst of this paradise, I find the ever-stoic Doris standing guard, her expression as blank as usual. And there, next to her, is Noelle—squatting low to the ground, hunched over a notebook, scribbling something down. The sight of him is disarming, as it always is.

"Hello, good afternoon," I say as I approach him.

He looks up, and I’m greeted with that familiar smile of his, the one that sends an inexplicable pang through my chest. His green eyes twinkle in the afternoon light, glowing with life. Even the jewel on his collar, the one that marks his bond with Thorne, sparkles. It only fuels the jealousy that gnaws at me.

Thorne married him under the church of Elaris, meaning if Thorne ever took a concubine, it would have to go through Noelle first. The idea of it burns. I didn’t think Thorne was the type of man to fall this deeply. I didn’t think he’d be the kind to give himself so completely to one person. And yet, here we are.

I step closer, and I’m immediately hit by the thick scent of Thorne’s alpha pheromones clinging to Noelle. It’s overwhelming, almost completely masking Noelle’s own scent. I can hardly breathe through the jealousy, but I force myself to remain composed.

"Hello, Oliver. What brings you here?" Noelle’s voice is as light as ever, unbothered by my presence.

"I heard you left early last night because you weren’t feeling well," I reply, realizing just how foolish that excuse sounds now. Clearly, if the pheromones around him are any indication, the reason had nothing to do with being sick.

Noelle giggles softly, and I hate how that sound doesn’t grate on my nerves like it should. "Oh, that was a lie. I was whisked away by Thorne," he admits with a mischievous smile.

I kneel down beside him, glancing at the notebook in his lap. It’s filled with sketches of plants, each one detailed and labeled with notes in Noelle’s neat handwriting. He’s hunched over a strange-looking grass, scribbling furiously.

"What are you writing?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

He beams, his excitement palpable. "I’m recording the properties of this little guy here. My goal is to catalog at least five thousand different kinds of plants. Thorne set this greenhouse up for me to help with that."

The wind rustles the greenhouse, and Noelle tucks a few loose strands of hair behind his ear. I try not to stare, but it’s hard not to notice how effortlessly beautiful he is. It’s infuriating.

"That’s a pretty ambitious number. How far along are you?" I ask, trying to keep my tone neutral.

"2773," he says with a sigh. "I’m about halfway there, but it’s getting harder. I’ve already recorded most of the common plants, so now I’m stuck searching for the rarer ones. Occasionally, though, something new like this shows up."

I reach out to touch the odd grass, but Noelle quickly stops me. "I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It has paralyzing properties."

I pull my hand back, feeling a little foolish. Despite myself, I spend more time with him, watching him work. He’s absorbed in his task, completely oblivious to how much he unsettles me. The more I observe, the more I find it impossible to hate him. Noelle is... good. Inside and out, it seems. And that realization stings more than anything else.

Suddenly, a voice breaks through my thoughts. "Delivery."

I glance up to see Victor walking in, his black hair a disheveled mess, carrying a wooden box. I frown at his appearance. How undignified.

But Noelle’s reaction is immediate and childlike. He jumps up with excitement, rushing to Victor’s side. "Thank you so much!" he says, surprising me by eagerly taking the large box from Victor’s hands and heading toward a corner of the greenhouse, his personal guard Doris trailing after him.

I watch as Noelle practically skips away, brimming with joy over whatever is in that box. And all I can think is how much it hurts to not hate him. To see that his goodness is genuine, his happiness sincere.