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Chapter Sixty-Two

Lilianna

After the cooking was finished I took a shower and now settled back in the nest in my room for a little quiet time.

The carbonara had been perfect—creamy, rich, and exactly the kind of comfort food I'd needed.

Christopher had been patient as always, guiding me through each step while keeping the conversation light and distracting.

For those two hours in the kitchen, I'd almost forgotten about everything else.

But now, alone with my thoughts, the weight of the situation settled back over me like a familiar blanket. My phone sat on the nightstand, face down—I'd asked Miles to change my notification settings so I wouldn't be constantly reminded of the growing attention.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. "Come in," I called, not wanting to move from my nest. Julian opened the door, coming in and shutting the door behind him.

“I just came in to check on you and see if you would like some company.” He gave me a soft smile as he looked at me from the edge of my nest.

I nodded, scooting over to make room for him. "Please. I could use the company."

Julian settled beside me with careful grace, his presence immediately calming. He pulled me into his lap. His arms came around me as he put his face into the crook of my neck, taking a deep breath.

"You smell like home," he murmured against my skin, his voice carrying a hint of possessiveness that made my heart flutter. "Are you feeling any better after cooking with Christopher?"

I leaned into his embrace, allowing myself to draw strength from his solid presence. "It helped. He's good at distracting me."

"That's his gift," Julian said, a smile in his voice. "Finding the perfect way to bring joy into difficult moments."

We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, his steady heartbeat against my back grounding me in the present. I traced idle patterns on his forearm, gathering my thoughts.

"The statement went out," Julian said finally, his voice gentle but matter-of-fact. "It's been well-received so far. Professional, dignified, and focused on our happiness together rather than addressing any controversy."

I nodded, grateful for his straightforward approach. "Thank you for telling me.”

"Your post has over fifty thousand likes now," he added, his fingers combing gently through my hair. "The outpouring of support has been... remarkable."

I leaned back against his chest, letting his words sink in. "I never expected strangers to care so much about my happiness."

"People recognize authenticity when they see it," Julian murmured, his lips brushing my temple. "And they can sense when someone has found something genuine."

I turned slightly in his arms, searching his face. "Has there been any more from my mother?"

His expression remained carefully neutral, but I could feel the slight tension in his shoulders. "She's made a few more attempts to contact you through various platforms. Nicolaus has been monitoring and blocking as needed."

"And publicly?" I asked, feeling dread prickle up in my stomach.

Julian hesitated for just a moment. "She released a brief statement to a few society publications expressing concern about your 'impulsive decisions’. “

“Is she doing this because she didn’t get what she wanted out of our courtship agreement?” I asked him, wanting to know why she is acting like this when she wanted this in the first place.

Julian’s jaw tensed subtly, but his voice remained even—measured in that way he always was when walking the edge of fury and restraint.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “At first, she thought it was a win, that by handing you over to us, she’d gain influence, or at the very least, favor.

But when it became clear you weren’t following the script she’d written for you—when she realized you weren’t going to be a decorative Omega playing by her rules—her opinion changed. ”

I let out a slow breath and pulled the blanket higher around my shoulders. “So much for being her pride and joy.”

Julian’s arms tightened around me, protectively, possessively as he repositioned me so I could lean my head against his chest.. “You were never her pride, Lilianna. You were her asset. The moment you stopped fitting the mold she’d carved for you, she tried to cut you out.”

“I don’t think she ever really saw me ,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just this version she could parade around to her friends. The perfectly trained Omega daughter.”

“She didn’t deserve you,” Julian said simply. “And she certainly doesn’t deserve the woman you’re becoming now.”

I swallowed the knot forming in my throat, grateful for the steady beat of his heart under my cheek. “I thought it would feel freeing to finally break away from her. But sometimes I still feel like I’m waiting for her approval. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“It’s human,” he said, his fingers brushing gently over my scalp. “You were raised to believe her approval was survival. That disobedience meant rejection. It takes time to unlearn that.”

“I don’t want to care anymore.” I told him, feeling confident in my words, because I was certain what I wanted now.

“You will—until one day, you won’t. And until then, we’ll keep reminding you of who you are outside of her shadow.” He told me softly, his hand pulling me away from him a bit so I could look at him.

I let him, looking up at him then, his blue eyes impossibly tender behind the sharp edges of his composure. “You’ve all given me more patience than I probably deserve.”

Julian gave a faint huff of amusement, as his eyes caught my own. “We’ve given you exactly what you do deserve. Time, space, and unconditional love. The rest is up to you.”

My eyes welled up, and I blinked rapidly, not wanting to cry again. I was tired of crying. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to mine. “You existed. That was enough.” For a moment, the world narrowed to the quiet between us—the low hum of the house, the scent of cedar and smoke clinging to Julian’s shirt, the warmth of his arms keeping out the ghosts of my past.

Then his voice broke the silence again, soft but purposeful. “Lucian spoke to Nicolaus earlier.”

That got my attention. “About…?”

“About Lydia,” Julian said, his thumb brushing my cheek. “She’s been asking about you. Wondering if you’d be open to painting with her sometime.”

My brow lifted in surprise but a smile stretched across my lips as his words, “Really?”

“She liked you,” he said, smiling faintly. “And she sees pieces of herself in you. Lucian thinks it might do you both good.”

“I’d like that,” I said after a moment. “It’s rare to meet someone who understands without needing it explained.”

“She won’t expect you to be anyone but yourself,” Julian said. “Neither do we.”

I nestled closer to him, letting his words settle into the spaces that still hurt.

“It’s strange,” I murmured, “how healing doesn’t always feel like some grand moment. Sometimes it’s just… being held by someone who sees you.”

Julian kissed the top of my head. “Then I’ll keep holding you until the hurt quiets.” I closed my eyes and let myself breathe—slow and steady, surrounded by a kind of love I was still learning to trust.

And for once, I didn’t feel like I had to earn it.

We stayed there, wrapped up in each other, the room dim except for the amber glow of the bedside lamp.

His warmth anchored me, his breath ghosting steady and slow along my collarbone.

My head rested beneath his chin, I was straddling his lap as I listened to his heartbeat.

His presence was enough—safe, grounding, and quietly intense.

The kind of silence I never got with my mother.

The kind of closeness that didn’t come with performance.

“I’ve never had a space like this before,” I murmured into the quiet, my fingers brushing along the edge of the soft fabric of his shirt. “Where I could just… exist. No pressure. No perfect posture or expectations. Just me.”

Julian’s hand moved to my thigh, anchoring me with a slow squeeze. “You never needed to earn rest, Lilianna,” he said softly. “Not from us. Not ever.”

My throat tightened. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. I wanted to stay here forever, to burrow down into this quiet and never leave.

“You said something earlier,” I whispered. “About people recognizing the truth…the authenticity of a person.” Julian hummed in acknowledgment, his fingers drawing slow circles along my knee.

“I don’t even know who that authentic person is yet,” I admitted. “I feel like I’m unwrapping layers and I don’t always know what’s underneath.” Julian tilted my chin gently, just enough that our eyes met. His gaze held me there, steady and searching.

“That’s the beautiful part,” he said, his voice low, serious. “You don’t need to know yet. We’re not in love with who you were forced to be—we’re in love with the woman you’re becoming and will become.”

My breath caught. It wasn’t even the words themselves—it was the way he said them.

Like a promise. Like it was truth carved into stone.

He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against mine—barely there, more breath than contact.

When he finally kissed me, it was soft. His hand slid to my lower back, pulling me closer to him so that I could feel everything.

My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, grounding myself in him, in the moment. There was no fear. No guilt. No second-guessing whether I was allowed to want this. His mouth moved to the curve of my jaw, then lower—leaving the lightest trace of heat at the edge of my throat.

“What didn’t get enough from the others the last couple days?” Julian teased as he pulled away so he could look down at me, though his eyes were dark. Hungry. As he looked at me.

“I haven’t had you though.” I muttered, feeling confident. I heard him give a low growl as his grip on me tightened.