Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 259: Cute family and revenge

I stretch for the first time in what feels like forever, relishing the freedom of movement now that I can finally see my knees again. The weight I had grown so accustomed to is gone, and yet, something even heavier fills the space in my heart—a warmth, a sense of completeness as I glance toward the small bassinet beside me.

The twins are sleeping soundly, their tiny chests rising and falling in peaceful rhythm. Niall’s tiny fingers curl slightly in his sleep, while Thieran’s nose scrunches up, as if something in his dreams is displeasing him. They’re perfect. So small, so fragile, yet already so full of life.

A commotion outside the door catches my attention, and before I can even ask, Thorne strides into the room, looking... put-upon.

Perched atop his broad shoulders like a tiny queen ruling over her domain is MiMi, her small hands buried deep in his golden hair, gripping with a level of possessiveness only she could manage. She’s nestled there comfortably, treating him like her personal warhorse, her tiny legs swinging slightly against his chest.

Thorne’s expression is a mixture of long-suffering patience and thinly veiled irritation, the deep furrow of his brow making it clear that he has absolutely no say in the matter. His large hands are braced under her legs to keep her from falling, but I can tell from the stiffness of his posture that he’s already lost this battle.

The sight alone nearly makes me choke on laughter.

MiMi, completely unbothered by her father’s internal torment, sits like she was born to do this, surveying the room with those piercing blue eyes—the same shade as Thorne’s, though somehow even sharper in her small, serious face. She doesn’t speak, just stares directly at me, then at the twins, then back to me, as if calculating something important. freewёbnoνel.com

I shake my head, biting back a grin. "Hey, you two."

Thorne exhales heavily, walking over to the bed and adjusting MiMi slightly. "She refuses to walk," he grumbles.

MiMi doesn’t even blink, simply adjusting her grip on his hair like reins. She remains perched like a little conqueror, staring down at me.

I tilt my head, amused. "Let me guess. She saw Adrian do this to Victor, and now this is her new favorite thing?"

Thorne lets out a slow, pained sigh. "She’s stubborn."

MiMi, unimpressed by our conversation, finally shifts her focus. Her sharp blue eyes lock onto the bassinet, her tiny face softening ever so slightly. Then, with the kind of decisive action only she could manage, she tugs on Thorne’s hair—hard.

Thorne grunts but understands. With a huff, he bends down slightly so she can get a better look.

Now at eye level with her baby brothers, MiMi stares intensely at them for a long moment. Her expression is unreadable, calculating. Slowly, with all the confidence in the world, she lifts a hand and places it firmly on both of them—her small palm pressing down on Niall’s belly while her fingers brush against Thieran.

"Mine," she declares.

Thorne rubs his temple, looking at me in silent despair. "She gets this from you."

I arch an eyebrow. "Me? She’s a miniature you, Thorne."

"Slander," he mutters under his breath.

I smirk, raising an eyebrow. "Really? The possessive mine? That doesn’t sound familiar to you?"

Thorne hums, pretending to think, before his lips stretch into a slow, knowing smirk. "Hmm... I remember a time you once tied me up and—"

"Thorne." My voice is sharp in warning.

He merely chuckles, entirely unbothered.

Before he can get himself into more trouble, he finally removes our little queen from her throne atop his head. Mimi allows it without protest, as if granting him permission rather than being removed against her will.

The second she’s within reach, I open my arms, and she leans in without hesitation, wrapping her tiny arms around my neck. Her soft cheek presses against mine, warm and trusting.

Thorne gapes. "Why do you get that kind of treatment while I’m a glorified pony?"

I grin against Mimi’s curls, rocking her slightly in my arms. "Because she likes me."

Thorne scoffs, rubbing a hand through his tousled blonde hair, as if trying to fix the damage Mimi left in her wake.

Mimi snuggles into my chest, entirely uninterested in her father’s suffering.

Thorne huffs, placing his hands on his hips. "At least one of you will like me, right?" He mutters, directing the question toward the sleeping twins.

Niall makes a soft noise in his sleep, his tiny fingers twitching.

Thorne brightens. "See? That’s my boy—"

Thieran shifts slightly, scrunching his nose in what looks like a gesture of pure disdain.

Thorne freezes.

I snort, barely holding in my laughter. "Oh, my beloved, it appears you’re already losing."

Thorne glares at me, then at the babies, then back at me. "Betrayed in my own home."

Mimi makes a soft sound of agreement, her tiny fingers curling into my shirt.

Thorne groans. "Elaris’ help me. It’s three against one."

I tilt my head, eyes twinkling. "Perhaps if you stopped being such a glorified pony, they’d respect you more."

Thorne glares. "I hate you."

I kiss Mimi’s temple before meeting his stare head-on. "No, you don’t."

His lips twitch.

"No," he concedes, stepping forward, wrapping his arms around both me and Mimi, his voice dropping to something softer. "I don’t."

I smile, resting my forehead against his shoulder.

"So when are you going to tell me what you planned with Felix?" he asks, voice low, steady—too steady. He’s been holding this question in for a while, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

I chuckle, cradling Mimi in my arms, gently rocking her as she rests against me. Her tiny hands fist into my shirt, and she sighs, pressing her cheek against my chest.

"My beloved star, I’m so curious," Thorne murmurs, dropping his head just slightly, pressing his lips to my temple. He’s trying to coax the answer out of me with warmth, with that soft affection that always makes my heart waver.

"Fine, fine," I sigh, stepping out of his embrace and adjusting Mimi in my arms so she’s still secure. Thorne watches me like a hawk, his patience stretched thin.

"Duke Veyron has prided himself on being an alpha, being Duke Veyron," I say, drawing out the words, making sure they land. I meet Thorne’s gaze, letting him feel the weight behind them.

"So I did something that would break him. Ruin him. Exact my revenge."

Thorne’s brows furrow further. He still doesn’t get it. Not yet.

I smirk.

"An omega."

His entire body freezes.

I swear, even his breathing stops.

Thorne just stares at me, waiting—no, dreading—the explanation.

"That’s right," I continue, rocking Mimi gently as if I hadn’t just dropped the most scandalous statement of the year.

"The famous Duke Veyron—the man who ruined so many lives, who saw omegas as nothing but playthings—is now in heat." I pause, letting it sink in, watching the sheer horror dawn across Thorne’s face.

"At a red-light district in the capital."