Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 36: Unnerving

"Roman?" I exclaimed.

Roman, my strategist and longtime comrade, had been an integral part of my life and career. What was he doing here?

"You mean Roman, Roman? Your buddy from the army?" Noelle gasped, clearly astonished.

I was numb, trying to reconcile the sight before me. What was Roman doing here, and what did it mean for the life I had carefully built with Noelle?

"Quit dilly-dallying; let’s get him inside," Noelle said urgently. He moved quickly, leading the way.

I followed, guiding Roman’s unconscious body with me. I settled him by the fireplace, the warmth and light a stark contrast to the tension in the room.

As Noelle tended to Roman’s injuries, I stood nearby, my emotions a swirl of panic and jealousy. Despite the relief of seeing a familiar face, the reality of his presence threw my life into turmoil. Panic gnawed at me, knowing that this could disrupt the stability of my new life, and jealousy flared as I watched Noelle, my omega, caring for another alpha with such tenderness.

We laid a quilt on the floor near the fireplace, determined to keep the situation under control. I would sooner endure the pain of a thousand needles than let another man share our bed, old comrade or not.

Minutes later, Roman groaned and slowly began to wake. Noelle glanced at me and retreated to the bedroom, likely to give me some privacy, though the small size of the house meant there wasn’t much of it.

I leaned against the wall, observing as Roman struggled to sit up.

"That hurts," Roman muttered, gingerly touching the back of his head.

I merely scoffed, my mood a mix of irritation and confusion. Roman’s gaze roved around the room until it landed on me, my figure silhouetted against the wall.

"... Thorne?" he asked cautiously, his voice a mix of disbelief and recognition.

"Yeah, it’s me. If you’re looking for someone else, you’re in the wrong place," I snapped, slipping back into my old, sharper tone.

Roman began to respond, "I mean, yeah, it’s just that you’re—"

"Alive? Fantastic. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, what the hell are you doing here?" I cut him off.

"It’s been over three years since we saw each other. Can’t you be a bit nicer?" Roman’s tone held a hint of hurt.

I fixed him with a cold stare.

"Ugh, who am I kidding. Nice isn’t exactly in your vocabulary, is it?" Roman sighed.

"The only kindness I’m offering you is letting you stay the night. You’ll be on your way by tomorrow," I said, turning away.

"Thorne, if you’ve been alright, why didn’t you come back? There have been rumors about your death," Roman’s voice was barely above a whisper.

"I am dead—dead to my past, no longer the so-called Crimson General," I snapped, my anger boiling over.

Roman sighed heavily. "I don’t get it. I’m relieved you’re okay, but—I was worried. The men were worried."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling frustration bubble up. "Roman, I really don’t want to go back. I’m perfectly fine here—happy, even. You want me to just drop everything and leave? That’s impossible," I said, turning on my heel and heading for the door.

*

Roman struggled to reconcile the situation. He had spent months searching for Thorne, driven by a mix of duty and genuine concern. The secrecy surrounding Thorne’s whereabouts had been maddening—tight-lipped officials and dead ends had left him frustrated and exhausted. Thorne had never been the warmest of comrades, but his disappearance had deeply unsettled Roman and their old unit. They had feared the worst, and now that he was found, Roman’s relief was tinged with confusion and concern.

As Roman was about to speak, the sound of a door opening caught his attention. He turned to see a stunning man enter the room, the air thick with Thorne’s unmistakable pheromones, as if he had bathed in them.

"Hey, I’m Noelle, Thorne’s husband," the man said, introducing himself with a calm demeanor. The word "husband" struck Roman like a bolt of lightning, but the choker around Noelle’s neck and the overwhelming scent of Thorne made it clear that this was indeed the truth.

"Noelle," Roman echoed, his surprise evident.

"I’m sorry about your head. In my defense, you were sneaking in, and as an omega, I had to act to protect myself," Noelle explained with a small, almost apologetic smile. It was clear how this delicate, charming figure had managed to capture the heart of the notoriously stone hearted Thorne.

"That’s okay," Roman replied, his tone softening.

Noelle nodded understandingly. "I’ll talk to him. He’s just a bit unnerved by all this," Noelle said before heading outside to find Thorne.

A few minutes later, Thorne entered the room, Noelle by his side. Noelle’s presence was commanding, and his tone carried a subtle, yet unmistakable authority.

"We’ve decided to sleep on this," Noelle announced, his gaze shifting pointedly towards Thorne. "We’ll have this conversation tomorrow, won’t we?" The finality in Noelle’s voice left no room for argument, and to Roman’s surprise, Thorne acquiesced.

"Yes," Thorne replied, his voice begrudging but resigned.

"Great! Now let me prepare some dinner," Noelle said cheerfully, heading into the small kitchen.

Roman watched, astonished, as the scene before him unfolded. Thorne’s previously stoic and implacable demeanor seemed to dissolve. He transformed from the unmovable iron wall he had been into something surprisingly soft. Roman observed Thorne with an almost childlike admiration as he watched Noelle cook, his eyes sparkling with a tenderness and adoration that was both disarming and endearing.

Roman could hardly believe the contrast between Thorne’s hardened exterior and the gentle, almost reverent way he regarded Noelle. It was clear that the omega had a profound effect on Thorne, and as Roman sat there, he felt a mix of

awe and bewilderment at this unexpected turn in his old comrade’s life.

Dinner was amazing, better than anything I’d had in a while. What truly surprised me, though, was seeing Thorne—of all people—smile. I’d known him for ten years, fought alongside him in battle after battle, and not once had I ever seen a real smile on his face. But here he was, grinning like some carefree youth, and it turned him into someone entirely different. He wasn’t the Crimson General, feared by enemies and drenched in blood; no, he was just a man in love. I suppose that’s exactly what he was.