Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 37: Calm waters

After dinner, they excused themselves for the night, leaving me alone by the fireplace. My head wasn’t throbbing as much now—alpha healing was kicking in, as expected. As I lay down, staring at the flickering flames, my mind buzzed with thoughts, swirling with questions and emotions I couldn’t quite grasp. Eventually, exhaustion won, and I drifted off to sleep.

***

The sensation of weight on my face woke me. I couldn’t breathe. Panicked, I opened my eyes to find a fat, lazy bird perched squarely on top of me. I swatted it away, and it fluttered off—but then the damn thing came back, as if this was some kind of game. Over and over again, I shooed it away, only for it to return.

The sound of giggling and a snort pulled my attention. I sat up to see Thorne lounging in a rocking chair, his eyes closed, and Noelle sitting in his lap, looking entirely too amused by my situation.

"Grape, don’t do that to our guest," Noelle said, still chuckling.

Grape?

The fat bird in question flew back and decided to nest on my head this time. It chirped smugly, apparently content with its new perch.

I shooed it away again, but it was relentless, coming back just as fast as it left.

"Relentless, isn’t he?" Noelle said with a smirk. "How are you feeling this morning?"

I stretched, checking for any soreness or lingering pain. "Actually, pretty great," I replied, still swatting at the persistent bird.

Of all the things I expected here, an oversized bird named Grape was definitely not one of them.

"Great, it’s already noon. You can help yourself to some leftovers," Noelle said, standing up from Thorne’s lap. He snatched Grape off my head with ease, cradling the fat bird in his arms like a baby. "I’ll give you two some space," he added with a smile, before leaving the room, bird in tow.

I stood up, stretching. "May I use your bathroom?" I asked, feeling a bit out of sorts from the strange morning.

Thorne, still reclining in the rocking chair, eyes closed, merely pointed in the direction of the bathroom without a word.

I headed where he pointed, but the moment I opened the door, I was hit by an overwhelming wave of pheromones. The scent was thick, heavy with Thorne’s familiar presence, but also laced with something sweet, undoubtedly Noelle’s. It was dizzying, the lust in the air clinging to my skin, making it hard to focus. Did they... do it here? The scent was so intense it almost felt like the walls were soaked in it.

I quickly handled my business, trying to ignore the primal reaction the scent was pulling out of me, and hurried back out, closing the door behind me.

Back in the main room, I spotted a plate covered on the table, presumably left for me. Lifting the cover, I found meat and some greens, the sight and smell alone making my stomach growl.

I took a bite, and instantly, the flavors hit. "This tastes amazing," I muttered, genuinely impressed.

"Of course it does," came Thorne’s low voice from the chair. His tone was nonchalant, but there was an edge to it, like he knew exactly how lucky he was to have Noelle’s cooking.

I glanced over at him, still lounging in the rocking chair, his eyes half-lidded, watching me with that same calm but guarded expression. I wondered how he could just sit there so casually, as if the world outside hadn’t been searching for him for years.

But here, in this little home, with that omega by his side, he seemed to have found something I’d never expected to see in him. Peace.

After finishing my meal, I followed Thorne outside into what could only be described as a green piece of heaven. The garden was lush, vibrant with life in every corner, a stark contrast to the blood-soaked battlefields we once shared. Thorne handed me a tool without a word, clearly expecting me to help with weeding.

I stared at the tool, confused. I had never weeded in my life, but I knew Thorne well enough to understand this was how he processed things—through action. Back in the army, he would swing his sword while I delivered reports, his mind always clearer when his hands were occupied. So, without complaint, I knelt down beside him and tried to copy his movements, pulling out the weeds as best I could.

As we worked in silence, I couldn’t help but think about Noelle. "He seems amazing, like an angel... way more than someone like you deserves," I remarked with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood.

Thorne’s expression cracked, and for the first time since I arrived, a ghost of a smile flickered across his face. "Don’t I know that."

It was a rare admission from him, a man who had always prided himself on not needing anyone. But here he was, admitting that Noelle was beyond what he felt worthy of. I glanced at him, seeing something unfamiliar—contentment, maybe even happiness.

"You seem at peace here," I continued, meaning every word. This was the calmest I’d ever seen him, the weight of his past battles seemingly far from his mind. "With him."

"I am," Thorne said with a heavy sigh. "You, of all people, know that life has been a bitch to me. It’s hard for me to let go of this." His voice grew softer, almost fragile, and I paused, taking in the depth of what he was saying.

It hit me how much this quiet life with Noelle meant to him. For a man who had once been the infamous Crimson General, feared and respected across the land, it was hard to reconcile the image of him now, peacefully weeding a garden, longing for nothing but simplicity.

"I’m sorry," I said quietly. The weight of my own mission, my search for him, suddenly felt like an intrusion into a sanctuary he had fought to build.

"The water in the capital is muddy and sticky," Thorne continued, his gaze distant, as if already lost in memories of that place. "I’m so adamant not to go there because I know once I’m back, I’ll have to say goodbye to all of this."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. I realized then that Thorne wasn’t just hiding out here—he was protecting this small slice of happiness he had carved out for himself.

I sighed, the weight of what I had to say pressing on my chest. It wasn’t fair to do this to him, but I had no choice. Thorne deserved to know.

"Victor is on the line to be executed," I said in one breath, the word

s hanging heavy between us like an anchor dropped into calm waters.