Fallen General's Omega (BL)
Chapter 145: Strong

Chapter 145: Strong

After the king disappears from sight, I rush into the opulent building they call the Daisy Palace. The name itself feels like a mockery, as if the beauty of daisies could ever mask the truth of what this place really is. It was once gifted to the previous king’s favorite concubine, my mother’s mother, as a gesture of love—or so they say. After she passed, it was given to my mother and now to me, whether I wanted it or not. This grand structure is nothing more than a gilded prison, luxurious and suffocating all at once, adorned with silks and gold but brimming with sorrow. I am surrounded by guards at every turn, their eyes cold and unyielding, ensuring I never forget that this place is as much a cage as any with iron bars.

I walk through hallways lined with maids who bow deeply, their gazes averted. I barely acknowledge them, my mind focused on one thing: getting to my daughter. I hurry to my room, my sanctuary and the only place in this palace that brings me a semblance of peace. Inside, I find Mona leaning over Mirelle’s crib, her small hands gently adjusting the blanket around my baby girl. Mona is becoming such a little lady, though she’s only twelve, with eyes far too knowing for someone her age. She turns to me and smiles, a glimpse of innocence that this world hasn’t yet stolen. It breaks my heart a little more each time.

"Hey," I whisper softly, careful not to disturb my sleeping daughter. "You can continue reading now. He’s gone."

Mona’s smile widens, relief washing over her face as she leaves the room. I watch her go, a pang of guilt twisting my gut. I brought her into this mess. I brought both of them into this mess. Ben, too—I can only pray he’s safe, somewhere out there, holding on. I try not to dwell on the circumstances that led us here.

I walk over to Mirelle’s crib and pull up a chair, sinking into it with a heaviness that has nothing to do with my body and everything to do with the exhaustion of my heart. My little angel lies there, her tiny chest rising and falling, her lips puckering in her sleep. She is so perfect, so innocent, and for a moment, I let myself smile, even if it’s tinged with sadness.

Thorne would love her. The thought pierces through me, sharp and bittersweet. He’d be wrapped around her chubby little fingers in an instant, my fierce, unbreakable Alpha brought to his knees by our daughter’s smile. I imagine him holding her, his large hands cradling her so delicately, his eyes soft in a way that only I have ever seen. The image is so vivid that it hurts, and before I know it, tears are welling in my eyes.

I blink them back, frustrated with myself. I’m not even pregnant anymore, so why am I so emotional? I sigh, dragging in a shaky breath as I try to push the ache down. I have to be strong, for Mirelle, for Mona, for everyone who depends on me. I have to be patient.

"I miss you," I whisper, my voice cracking in the quiet. "Please, find me soon."

I reach into the crib and gently brush a finger against Mirelle’s soft cheek, my heart swelling with love and longing. I shove all my emotions into a box, locking them away because I have no other choice. I have to be strong. I have to hold on.

***

I’m crouched in the underbrush of a nearby forest, carefully sketching a peculiar plant into Noelle’s journal. The action is both instinctive and sacred, a small ritual that makes me feel closer to my beautiful Omega. His handwriting fills the earlier pages—elegant, deliberate strokes that carry his warmth and brilliance. My own, by comparison, looks harsh and rushed, a poor substitute. Yet I hold onto these moments, these simple connections to him, with a fierce and desperate grip. It’s the only thing that keeps me steady when the storm inside me threatens to tear me apart.

It’s been two agonizing months since Duke Remiro gave me his permission, two months of constant, restless searching. I’ve barely allowed myself to rest, haunted by the image of Noelle out there somewhere, needing me. The few times I’ve had to pause my search and attend one of those godforsaken family dinners with the Remiros, I’ve seethed with impatience. Sitting at a long, opulent table, pretending to care about their empty conversations, feels like a slow, grinding torture. But a deal is a deal, and if enduring these useless formalities keeps the Duke’s support in my search, I have no choice but to play along.

Still, every second spent away from my mission feels like a betrayal. Each dinner, each forced smile, is time wasted when I could be scouring the countryside for them.

The road I’m on now stretches five hours northeast of the Vitra port, branching off toward five scattered villages. I’m already dreading the hours of searching that lie ahead, the uncertainty gnawing at my resolve. This land is vast and full of shadows, and though I’m grateful that Noelle covered their tracks so well, my gratitude is laced with frustration. They’ve hidden so perfectly, slipping through the fingers of the people hunting them. Whoever is after them must be someone powerful, likely a high-class noble, if even Leona is finding it difficult to uncover their identity.

I grit my teeth, pushing back the wave of helplessness that threatens to swallow me. Noelle did everything right to protect them, and now it’s my job to find them, no matter how long it takes, no matter how many roads and forests and

villages I have to cross.

For a moment, I let myself imagine what it will be like when I finally find him. The feel of Noelle’s hands in mine, the way he’ll look up at me with relief and love and maybe even that playful spark I miss so much.