Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 245: From her father

Noelle’s POV

"Daddy!" Mirelle squirms excitedly in Thorne’s arms, her little hands reaching out as if she might throw herself into the chaos of the bustling coastal city.

The port is far busier than usual, and I don’t have to wonder why. A massive influx of craftsmen has flooded the streets, stalls overflowing with exotic goods, and the docks are lined with ships unloading wares. It’s easy to guess whose fault that is.

I glance at Thorne, barely suppressing a snicker.

The great and mighty Lord Alden abandoned his duties, dumping them onto Rhett, so we could enjoy what he calls a family getaway. I call it conveniently timed avoidance—especially since we’re really here to collect the shipment we ordered from the eastern continent months ago.

The shipment contains rare fish and seeds, and I can barely contain my excitement. Some of these plants I’ve only read about in books, and they finally made it here after months of careful transport. Along with them, I requested a collection of their furniture pieces—just to see if I might like anything.

One day, I’d love to visit the eastern continent myself.

After we collect everything, there’s another stop—the local church of Elaris’. The temple priests have agreed to grow the sacred tree within our estate, something only their order is capable of.

Of course, I’m totally doing this for spiritual reasons... and not because I want to poke and prod at the holy tree.

I frown, realizing how many errands we need to run. So much for a family getaway.

---

Oliver’s POV

The streets are packed.

I walk beside Victor, keeping close so we don’t get separated in the thick crowd. The market is overflowing with voices—merchants shouting prices, children laughing, the scent of roasted meat and exotic spices filling the air.

Nancy has already disappeared, probably off to find ingredients for dinner.

"Dad!!!"

I barely suppress a groan.

I love my son—I really do—but he has an endless supply of energy. Too much energy.

For a child who can barely walk straight, he has an unnatural ability to vanish if you take your eyes off him for more than a second. Right now, he’s seated comfortably on Victor’s shoulders, using his father’s messy hair as a makeshift steering wheel.

Victor chuckles, completely unbothered. freēnovelkiss.com

"Fine, let’s go." He motions toward a vendor selling treats, and I roll my eyes, following along. He spoils him too much, but I suppose it’s fine—this is our first real vacation in a long time. With Victor working as a city guard, we don’t get much time together like this.

I scan the crowd, still amazed at how packed it is. We were told this coastal city was a great relaxing vacation spot—but they must have left out the part about it being overrun with people.

Then—

Victor suddenly stops.

His body tenses, his posture going rigid. My instincts flare, and I immediately stop beside him, scanning our surroundings.

Then, I see why he froze.

Right in front of the vendor stall stands Thorne.

What are the odds?

"Daddd!!!!" My son screams again, loud enough to echo through the street.

Victor sighs heavily, already knowing there’s no avoiding this. With a sense of resignation, we head toward the stall.

Up close, I recognize the softer voice beside Thorne before I even see him.

"See? MiMi loves them."

Thorne chuckles. "It’s definitely not because you wanted them, huh, my beloved star?"

I knew it.

There is only one person in the universe who could summon this particular soft, indulgent version of Thorne Alden.

Noelle.

From my angle, all I can see is his back, his waist-length raven-black hair cascading down like silk, shining slightly under the midday sun.

Noelle smacks Thorne’s chest, and I see the amusement in his posture before he speaks.

"Fine, I wanted them. What are you going to do about it?"

Thorne responds by dramatically kissing his cheeks, exaggerated loud smacking sounds included.

The PDA is still the same, I see.

As they turn to leave, both of them finally notice us.

All four of us freeze.

We just... stand there.

Staring.

For several seconds, no one moves.

The entire moment feels like a bizarre stand-off, silent recognition passing between us.

I glance at Victor. He’s staring at Thorne with an unreadable expression, a flicker of old history buried behind his sharp gaze.

Meanwhile, Noelle—still wrapped comfortably in Thorne’s arms—tilts his head, green eyes bright with curiosity.

Mirelle giggles, completely oblivious to the tension, reaching for one of the sweets in Noelle’s hand.

My son, on the other hand, smacks Victor’s head, impatient.

"Dad! Why did we stop?!"

*

We find ourselves seated in a nearby restaurant, a quiet place tucked away from the chaos of the market. The scent of fresh bread and roasted meat lingers in the air, but I can’t bring myself to focus on anything except the strange familiarity of this moment.

Across from Victor and me, Thorne sits with Noelle—a very pregnant Noelle.

And he looks... unfairly radiant.

I remember how miserable I felt during my own pregnancy—the nausea, the back pain, the exhaustion—but Noelle?

He’s glowing.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Elaris’ personally blessed him. His raven-black hair falls in perfect waves, his green eyes bright and full of warmth. There’s an effortless grace in the way he leans against Thorne, comfortably settled against his side.

It’s almost too perfect.

Like he walked straight out of a storybook—the kind where the omega is gentle and beautiful, his alpha completely devoted.

I hate that it makes me feel awkward. I don’t love Thorne anymore but this is still awkward.

So we keep silent, avoiding the inevitable awkwardness, choosing instead to watch the children.

And they—unlike us—don’t share the same hesitation.

Victor and I watch as our son interacts with Mirelle, Thorne and Noelle’s daughter.

It’s hard to tell if they’re playing or fighting.

One moment, they’re laughing, chasing each other around the table, and the next, I hear an outraged squeal—Mirelle standing tall with a handful of my son’s curls in her grasp.

Thorne watches, amused, while Victor tenses slightly, already preparing to intervene.

I get it.

Our son is fragile, more so than most children. He’s small for his age, still struggling to find his balance in the world.

And Mirelle?

She’s picture-perfect.

She’s everything a noble-born child should be, with Noelle’s cascading raven hair and Thorne’s piercing blue eyes. She already radiates the same presence as her parents, as if the world bends subtly in her favor without her even trying.

I sigh, shaking my head.

"She’s a little scary," I mutter under my breath.

Thorne smirks.

"Gets it from her father."

Noelle hums, completely unbothered. "Which one?"

Victor snorts, and for a moment, the tension breaks.

Just for a moment.