Fallen General's Omega (BL)
Chapter 72: In laws

Chapter 72: In laws

Noelle sat slouched in his chair, half-heartedly listening to Oliver’s attempts at coaxing him to socialize. He had no desire to entertain such notions. The drawing room was peaceful, the air warm and still, the perfect place to spend his day.

"Come on, Noelle," Oliver said for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice laced with encouragement. "I know it sounds exhausting, but you’ve got to get out a little. Network, make some connections. As much as Thorne probably doesn’t care, you’re his consort now. You should take on these minor things."

Noelle sighed, slumping further into the chair, unwilling to budge. Can’t an Omega spend his days tending to his plants and his nights with his Alpha? My etiquette lessons are done.

Noelle thinks to himself until-

The doors to the drawing room burst open with a loud, echoing slam, interrupting Noelle’s half-hearted protest. The sound made Oliver flinch, his sentence left unfinished.

Noelle’s head snapped up, irritation flashing in his eyes, but it quickly turned into cold indifference as he assessed the intruders. Standing in the doorway were two men, one younger, bearing a self-satisfied smirk, and the other older, with features that vaguely resembled Thorne’s. Both men exuded an air of arrogance, as if they owned every space they entered.

Noelle’s mind clicked into place—these men had to be Thorne’s estranged family. The resemblance was there, faint but undeniable. His husband had told him more than once that his looks came from his mother, a woman that works in the night, famous for her beauty. Noelle could see the truth in that now, looking at these two. They lacked the striking allure that Thorne possessed, and the good looks, and charm it’s like Thorne was down graded several several several times.

He made no move to stand or acknowledge them, though Oliver hastily scrambled to his feet, bowing deeply. As the son of a count, it was his duty to show respect to the higher-ranking nobility. But Noelle remained seated, his back straight and his gaze fixed on the unwelcome visitors, offering no such courtesy. Should he bow too? A fleeting thought crossed his mind, but he dismissed it just as quickly. Thorne had made it clear: these people were not his family.

The younger man, Sevian Robben, sauntered in, taking a seat with a lazy smirk playing on his lips. The duke, Thorne’s father, followed suit, his cold, scrutinizing eyes sweeping the room before settling on Noelle with disdain.

"Well, dear ’sister-in-law,’" Sevian began with mocking sweetness, "it’s practically impossible to meet you." His tone dripped with condescension, as though addressing someone beneath him.

Noelle’s jaw clenched at the insult. ’Sister-in-law.’ The phrase was a deliberate jab, a petty insult. For centuries, male Omegas had been considered burdens, lesser beings in an Alpha-dominated society, and certainly not regarded as equals to Beta or female Omegas when it came to fertility. The use of female pronouns for male Omegas had been a common way to degrade them, a reminder that they weren’t ’real’ men. Sevian’s choice of words was nothing short of a statement, a way to imply that Noelle wasn’t worthy of masculine titles or respect.

Noelle remained silent, staring back with an expression as cold as the winter outside, unwilling to give Sevian the satisfaction of a reaction.

The duke’s gaze flicked around the room, assessing it with an air of superiority before settling back on Noelle. "What did we interrupt?" he asked, his voice laced with disdain. "A meeting of concubines?"

Noelle’s lips tightened into a thin line, but he refused to look away or rise to the insult. He remained composed, his eyes locked onto the duke’s in a silent challenge.

"Did your bearer not teach you any manners?" the duke continued with a scowl, his voice growing sharper. "You’ve been here for months, yet you do not seek your husband’s family?"

Noelle’s gaze didn’t waver. "I know not what you speak of," he replied, his tone flat and cold. "My husband told me he has no family."

The duke scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. "Your husband is my son."

Noelle’s eyes flickered with annoyance as he leaned back into his seat, crossing his legs casually. "I’m afraid not," he said, his voice steady. "I married Thorne Alden. I am Noelle Alden. My husband has no relation with the Robbens, and therefore neither do I."

Sevian chuckled darkly, lounging back as if enjoying some private joke. "Oh, please. Just because he’s throwing a little tantrum doesn’t mean he’s not a Robben. You, as his... concubine, should really know better than to follow his every whim. Shouldn’t you be helping him make amends? If you care about him at all, that is."

Noelle’s eyes narrowed slightly, his patience beginning to wear thin. "You’ve misunderstood," he said icily. "I follow my Alpha mate’s will. As his husband, I respect his wishes. Thorne says you are not family, and so, you are not."

Sevian snickered, leaning forward with an amused glint in his eyes. "For a mere concubine, you sure are cocky."

Noelle’s temper flared, his fingers curling into fists in his lap. "I am his husband," he corrected, his voice sharp with anger.

Sevian’s laughter grew louder, mocking and cruel. "Please," he drawled, his gaze sweeping Noelle with disdain. "Do you really think you will be his only lover? An Omega male?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "You must be delusional."

Noelle stiffened, his heart pounding with a mixture of rage and disbelief.

"You underestimate our bond," Noelle said, his voice low but resolute. "Only I am Thorne’s."

"Is that what you think?" Sevian sneered. "Sure, maybe he’s into you right now. But Omegas like you—especially male ones—you’re not exactly known for your fertility. My dear brother will eventually need children, and when that time comes, don’t be surprised if he brings in a female. Or another Omega more... capable." He leaned back, pleased with himself, as if he’d delivered some kind of profound truth.

Oliver gasped softly beside Noelle, the tension in the room thickening with every word.

Noelle’s heart clenched, but his expression remained impassive, refusing to let them see the hurt. Of course, he trusted Thorne with every fiber of his being, but their words still cut deep.

The duke, watching the exchange with cool detachment, finally spoke up.

"Sevian, enough," he chided, though there was no real conviction in his voice.

He turned to Noelle, his gaze softening into something almost resembling pity.

"Sevian may be blunt, but he’s not wrong. Don’t isolate yourself, boy, depending solely on Thorne’s affections. You never know when they might fade, or when you might have to share. And when that time comes, it’s us, your family, who will be here for you."

Noelle’s composure cracked just slightly, his voice cold and brittle as he spoke.

"Please leave."

The Robbens made no move to obey, exchanging looks of smug superiority.

Noelle’s voice hardened, cracking with emotion that wasn’t entirely faked.

"Leave. Before I have the guards throw you out."

The duke and Sevian finally stood, their movements slow and deliberate. Sevian gave Noelle one last smirk, his eyes sweeping over him with thinly veiled disgust.

"Think about it," he said, his voice dripping with condescension, before he sauntered out, the duke following close behind.

As soon as the door closed behind them, the oppressive atmosphere lingered like a bad taste in the air.

"Noelle, I—" Oliver began, but Noelle cut him off sharply.

"You too," he said, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

Oliver froze, uncertainty flashing across his face, but Noelle didn’t wait for him to respond. He stood abruptly, his heart pounding in his chest, and let out a choked sob before rushing from the room.

He made sure to pass as many servants as possible on his way to his chambers, letting them see the tears in his eyes. They would talk, and word would spread.

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