Trapped in a Novel as the D-Class Alpha I Hated Most

Chapter 222: Love You Deserve, Zyren...

The spacious bathroom is silent, save for the soft curl of steam rising from the warm water. It drifts upward in slow spirals, disappearing beneath the recessed ceiling lights that glow softly against the marble walls.

The air is thick with heat and moisture, heavy with Moon’s scent still clinging to my skin—amber wood, rich and deep, like a forest at midnight.

No matter how hard I scrub, no matter how many times I wash, it remains. Etched into my skin. Buried in my pores.

A ghost I can’t rinse away. A brand I never agreed to.

I sit in the bathtub, the water embracing me, holding me in its warm, forgiving arms. It laps gently against my skin, soft and rhythmic, like a heartbeat. It makes me feel real—reminds me that I’m still here, still breathing, still alive.

My knees curl toward my stomach, my arms wrapping around my legs, pulling myself into the smallest possible shape.

I want to disappear. I want to fold myself into nothing and float away with the steam.

I look down at my body and see the evidence of three days I cannot remember.

Red marks. Kiss marks. Bite marks. Scattered across my skin like accusations. My neck. My chest. My hands. My thighs.

Even my toes.

Did I really spend three days in heat with Moon?

The thought circles in my mind like a bird with nowhere to land.

When he came back from K Country, I didn’t know. I didn’t see him arrive. I didn’t hear him enter. I have no memory of his hands, his mouth, his body.

Just darkness. Three days of darkness.

Then waking up in his arms, tangled in sheets that smelled like him, my body aching in places I didn’t know could ache.

I drop my head onto my knees, the water shifting around me, droplets sliding down my skin. The sound is soft, almost peaceful, but it can’t drown out the noise inside my head.

I don’t want to live.

The thought comes quietly now. No longer shocking. Just honest. Heat burns behind my eyes as the memories rise again—unstoppable.

Deniz’s cold voice.

Let’s break up.

Bryan’s cruel smile in the doorway, his towel hanging low on his hips. The dark hallway. The falling. The fading. The moment I hit the ground and wished I wouldn’t get back up.

The memories repeat inside my head like a broken record, louder and louder until I press my fists against my temples, trying to make them stop.

But they don’t. His voice. His smile. His words. Again and again and again.

I just want to disappear.

Somewhere they can’t reach me. Somewhere his voice can’t follow. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere dark. Somewhere I can stop feeling.

Tears slide down my cheeks, warm and slow, dripping into the water below. One by one. The surface ripples where they fall, small circles spreading outward before fading away.

The bathroom door opens with a soft click. I blink, lifting my head. Moon stands in the doorway.

His bathrobe hangs loose on his shoulders, untied, revealing the hard lines of his chest and the defined ridges of his stomach. Strands of blue hair fall messily across his temple.

Steam curls around him, softening his edges, making him look like something from a dream— or a nightmare.

A soft smile rests on his lips, calm and steady and infuriatingly patient, like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life.

"What are you doing here?" My voice is flat. Empty. A shell of what it used to be.

He reaches for the tie of his robe, letting it loosen beneath his fingers. "I want to take a bath with my Omega."

The fabric slides from his shoulders, catching briefly on the curve of his arm before falling to the floor in a soft heap.

His body is bare, golden beneath the dim light, and I look away quickly, heat rising to my face despite everything inside me that feels cold.

"I already told you." My voice is sharp, but brittle, like glass ready to crack. "Leave me alone. And don’t call me that."

He steps into the wide bathtub, the water rising as his body sinks in. It sloshes gently against the edges, waves spreading outward, touching my skin, pulling back. He settles behind me, his thighs bracketing my body, the heat of him pressing against my back.

His arms wrap around me, pulling me against his chest. His skin is warm, almost hot, and I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my back.

One hand lifts my chin, turning my face toward him, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Why aren’t you my Omega?" he asks softly. His thumb brushes along my jaw, gentle. Almost tender.

I try to look away, but his hand keeps me still.

"Did you forget our promise?"

Another tear slips down my cheek. He catches it with his thumb before it can fall.

"I’m not..." I look away, my voice cracking apart. "Just give me time."

"No."

The word is firm. Absolute. Final. His voice lowers, and I feel the weight of it settle against me.

"I can’t give you any more time. I’ve already given you years." A pause. "Too many years."

His other hand traces the faint marks on my shoulder—the remnants of the past three days, evidence of something I can’t remember, can’t fully understand.

His touch is light, barely there, but I feel it everywhere.

"I’ve lost my patience," he whispers. "I can’t bear even a minute of distance from you anymore."

His hand slides down my arm, finding my fingers and lacing through them. His palm is warm against mine, his grip firm and unyielding.

He lifts our joined hands, holding them where we can both see.

"Remember?" he asks quietly, his voice soft as smoke. "I told you. One day, I’d put my ring on your finger."

My gaze drops to our hands.

To the silver ring resting on my finger—the one he offered me in that hotel room. The one covered in diamonds. The one I refused.

It catches the dim light, glimmering faintly through the steam like a secret.

When did he put it there?

A slow smirk spreads across his lips.

"You’re mine, Zyren."

I stare at the ring.

Another memory flashes through me—sharp and sudden, cutting through the fog. Deniz standing in his apartment, his face cold, his voice colder. Sliding the silver ring from my finger and into his palm.

Letting me fall apart with it. The soft clink of metal against metal. The quiet sound of my world ending.

Another tear slips down my cheek.

Moon leans closer, his lips brushing against my skin, warm and soft against the salt of my tears. He lingers there for a moment, breathing me in, letting his warmth settle into me.

"Shh," he whispers. "Zyren, your tears are so rare. Don’t waste them like this."

His amber wood scent thickens around me, filling the air, filling my lungs, settling into the hollow spaces inside me.

It’s calming. Consuming. Everywhere. It curls through my thoughts, muffling them, softening their sharp edges until it becomes hard to think, hard to remember, hard to hurt.

My eyes grow heavy.

The world blurs, softens, fades. I close my eyes.

The last tear slips from the corner of my eye, sliding slowly down my cheek before disappearing into the water.

Moon’s warmth surrounds me from behind, solid and steady, and little by little, my thoughts begin to quiet.

His heartbeat presses against my back—slow, certain—and my breathing gradually falls into rhythm with his.

His pheromones wrap around me, pulling me somewhere soft and dark and quiet. His lips brush against my ear. Warm. Gentle.

"I’ll give you the love you deserve, Zyren."