Fallen General's Omega (BL)
Chapter 148: Midday sky

Chapter 148: Midday sky

Something catches my eye, and my breath stills in my chest. Lying in the corner, nearly hidden among the worn, scattered belongings, is a small dress. The fabric is simple but lovingly stitched, the kind of dress meant for a toddler. I fall to my knees, clutching it in my hands like the most precious material in the world. Because it is.

I press the tiny garment to my chest, my vision blurring as the teenage girl’s words replay in my mind. Noelle had our child. Our child. The realization crashes over me, a tidal wave of emotion so overwhelming I can’t breathe. I laugh—a strangled, choked sound—and then a sob tears through me. I laugh and cry, my heart breaking and swelling all at once.

A daughter. We have a daughter. I’m a father.

The thought is exhilarating and gut-wrenching all at once. It hurts so deeply that I wasn’t there for her, for Noelle. The sheer weight of what he must have gone through, alone and afraid, pierces me. My beloved star... how did you bear it? How terrified you must have been, bringing our child into the world in these conditions, with no one to protect you, to hold your hand, to reassure you. I ache with the realization of how I failed you, the grief and guilt cutting through me like a knife.

I clutch the little dress tighter, as if the simple action could somehow bring me closer to the child I’ve never met, the family I should have been here to protect. My hands tremble as I try to picture her. Would she have Noelle’s luminous eyes? His laugh? His radiant smile?

This is not how it was supposed to go. My shoulders shake with the sorrow of it. I want to scream, to yell at the universe for the cruel twist of fate that tore us apart. Some alpha husband I turned out to be, failing to protect the ones I love most. I don’t even know if Noelle was safe, if he made it through the birth without complications, if our daughter is okay.

I hug the tiny dress to my chest, my heart breaking under the weight of this impossible, precious love. Even though she isn’t here, even though I haven’t met her yet, I know in this moment that I will tear apart the world to make things right. I will find them.

I close my eyes and picture my little girl, the teenage girl told me she has blue eyes and raven hair. My eyes. I can’t help but wonder what else she inherited from us, what little pieces of Noelle and me live on in her. I let out a shaky laugh, but it turns into something choked and broken. My thoughts spiral back to a memory, vivid as the winter chill on the hill, back when life was simpler, before everything crumbled.

**Three years ago.*

I sat on the floor by the fireplace, watching Noelle as he prepared that hideous herb rice porridge concoction he always insisted I needed to eat. The baby bird, Grape, chirped weakly nearby, a fragile life we had both nursed and half-expected to lose. But somehow, Grape was still here, alive and strong, because of Noelle’s relentless care.

Noelle finished pouring the porridge into a bowl and brought it over, settling down beside me. I averted my gaze, steeling myself for the upcoming battle with that vile remedy.

"Ha ha ha, you’re an adult, Thorne. Is it really going to be this dramatic every time you have to take your medicine?" Noelle teased, his laughter like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

I glared at the bowl of porridge, then at Noelle, but his smile was disarming, so I finally gave in. With a reluctant sigh, I grabbed the bowl and downed the porridge in one painful gulp, hoping it would be over faster that way. Pushing the bowl aside, I made a face.

"You’re such a big baby," Noelle said, laughing again, and turned his attention to the tiny bird nestled beside us. The firelight flickered, painting warm shadows across his face, and for a moment, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. He looked so breathtakingly beautiful, sitting there with his eyes reflecting the dancing flames. I remember thinking that Noelle was more than I deserved.

"—like you," Noelle said, his voice pulling me out of my reverie. I blinked, realizing I hadn’t heard the beginning of his sentence.

"What?" I asked, feeling stupid for zoning out.

"I said, I wonder if our children will be as fussy as you are when it comes to taking medicine," Noelle repeated, his words so nonchalant, but they sent my heart racing. Children. Our children. It was something I hadn’t allowed myself to dream about. But if they looked like him? If they had Noelle’s eyes, his laughter, his joy? No, I wouldn’t mind that at all. In fact, I would cherish it.

"I’m not fussy," I replied, my voice coming out embarrassingly weak.

"Uh huh," he said, giving me a look that placated me like I was a child.

"So, how many children?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant while my heart thudded in my chest.

Noelle tilted his head, mischief dancing in his eyes. "I’m thinking... thirteen."

I nearly choked at the number, my mind conjuring a ridiculous vision of a cottage overflowing with children. Thirteen? That would mean expanding the house by... a lot. Suddenly, I was calculating living expenses and logistics, despite having more than enough wealth to support a large family for multiple generations.But then I heard Noelle’s laughter, bright and infectious, and I realized he was joking.

"I’m just kidding," he said, eyes sparkling. "I’m an omega male; I can’t have that many children even if I wanted to. Just as many as I can, I suppose."

"Oh. I knew that," I replied, pretending to sound unbothered, but my relief was probably obvious.

"If I can have only one child in my life, I’d be okay with that. If it’s more, I’d be okay with that too." His voice softened, sincerity filling the space between us. "You’re awfully quiet," he said, turning to me.

I hesitated. "I mean, what can I say? It’s your body. I’d be happy with a mini you. But if you didn’t want children, I’d be okay with that too," I said with a shrug.

At that, he smiled, a smile so bright and genuine that it made my chest ache. "I think... I want our child to have your eyes," he murmured. "Like the blue ocean or the open midday sky. I think that would make me happy."

I was so taken aback that I felt heat rise to my cheeks. His words left me feeling vulnerable, shy in a way that I rarely was. "Since we’re on this topic... what about names?" I asked, quickly changing the subject.

Noelle thought for a moment. "If it’s a girl, Mirelle. After my mother. I’d want her to grow up as brave, opinionated, and courageous as she was." His voice wavered slightly, the sadness palpable.

"Mirelle," I repeated. "It’s a beautiful name."

"You have to come up with the boy’s name," he added, putting the pressure back on me. I felt blank. I had no one I wanted to honor, no legacy to pass down. And naming a boy after me? No way. What if he grew up as thorny and bitter as my name implied?

"It’s an assignment," Noelle teased, his laughter ringing out.

**Present day.*

I let out a bitter laugh, but the smile that follows is full of sorrow. I guess I should be relieved we have a daughter because I never did get around to that assignment. I shove the little dress into my pocket, my heart pounding with renewed urgency. I’ve already missed so much of Mirelle’s life, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I won’t waste another second.

I can’t change the past, but I

can fight for our future. And right now, that’s all that matters.