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

Chapter 223: Just Accept Me, Zyren...

I sit at the breakfast table, though "sit" feels too gentle a word for what I’m doing. Moon placed me here with insistent hands and quieter threats—the kind he never has to voice because his presence alone is enough to fill a room, to press against my skin, to remind me that I am no longer alone in this mansion even when I desperately want to be.

The table is perfectly set. White linen drapes over the edges, ironed into crisp lines. Polished silverware catches the morning light, each piece aligned with precise care.

Fresh flowers sit in a crystal vase at the center—pale pink roses, their petals still dotted with water, their fragrance sweet enough to become cloying.

Toast. Jam. Fruit. Juice.

Everything arranged with care. With intention. With him sitting beside me like he has every right to be there.

Like he belongs.

He spreads strawberry jam over a slice of toast, the red glistening beneath the morning light, and sets it onto my plate. His movements are casual, unhurried—the movements of someone who has all the time in the world and fully intends to use it.

"I told you."

My voice comes out flat and cold, worn down by exhaustion. "I’m not hungry."

"Can you stop being a heartbroken, useless man for five minutes?"

He doesn’t look at me when he says it. He pours juice into a glass, pulp still floating near the surface, and places it in front of me with a soft clink. Only then do his blue eyes lift to mine.

"It’s been three days. You haven’t eaten anything." A pause. "And you’re still saying you’re not hungry?"

His hand finds mine beneath the table. His fingers are warm—too warm—and the heat settles against my skin before I can pull away.

"Zyren."

His voice softens slightly. "I already told you. Forget about him. Start your life again."

A pause. "The way he did."

His thumb brushes lightly against my hand. "Without even thinking about you."

Without even thinking about me.

The words settle heavily inside my chest, sinking into every hollow place.

He moved on without looking back. Started a new life without a second thought.

I was just something temporary to him. Something warm enough to fill the empty spaces until he found something better. Something easier. Something that didn’t come with hospital visits, medication schedules, and a body that refused to stay healthy.

I pull my hand away from Moon and pick up the juice glass instead. The sweetness is sharp on my tongue, but the simple act of drinking seems enough to satisfy him for now.

My voice stays flat. Cold.

A mask stretched over the broken boy underneath. The one who still flinches at Deniz’s name. The one who still reaches for someone who isn’t there in the middle of the night.

"When did you come back?"

I keep my eyes on the glass, watching the morning light bend through the amber liquid. "And how did you know about me?"

My gaze lifts slowly to his. Sharpening. "You left without saying goodbye. You ignored my calls. You never answered my messages."

A pause.

"So why did you come back now?"

Moon leans back in his chair, his posture loosening into something more deliberate. He crosses his arms over his chest, the fabric of his shirt pulling tight across his shoulders.

For a long moment, he says nothing. His blue gaze stays fixed on me, steady and unreadable, like he’s searching for something beneath my skin. Then he speaks.

"I was watching you."

His voice is calm, unhurried, like he’s talking about the weather.

"Even from K Country, I knew everything. Your health. Your heat." A pause. "Your boyfriend leaving you."

My grip tightens around the glass, condensation dampening my palm.

"I left without saying goodbye because I didn’t have the courage to." His voice lowers slightly, the first crack in his composure. "I couldn’t."

A pause. "And if I had answered your calls... if I had heard your voice..." His jaw tightens. "I would’ve lost control." Another pause. "I would’ve come back to you."

I set the glass down. The soft clink echoes through the silence between us. "Then why did you come back now?"

He uncrosses his arms, settling deeper into his chair. "For you." His eyes hold mine steadily. "Don’t forget our promise. You’re mine now."

I look away, toward the glass walls, toward the garden beyond, toward anything but him. My voice stays flat, but small cracks form around the edges—the mask I’m trying so hard to keep intact beginning to split apart.

"I remember the promise. I’m not going back on it." A pause. "But I told you. I need time." Another pause, quieter this time. "And stop using your pheromones on me."

A slow smile spreads across his lips—teasing, infuriating. He leans closer, resting his chin against his palm, blue eyes glinting with amusement.

"Do they affect you that much?"

Heat flickers across my face before I can stop it. "Why the hell are you smiling?"

"I’m sorry."

He doesn’t sound sorry at all.

"I didn’t mean to overwhelm you." His voice lowers slightly, warm amusement lingering beneath the words.

"I just wanted to comfort my Omega."

My fists clench in my lap. "I told you. Don’t call me that."

His smile only widens. "You look cute when you’re angry, my Omega."

"Moon—"

"What?" His blue eyes glitter with amusement. "My lovely Omega?"

I stand abruptly. The chair scrapes against the polished marble, the sharp sound cutting through the quiet morning.

I forgot.

He’s Moon Arden.

Talking to him is useless. Arguing with him is useless. Everything about him is designed to wear me down, to crack me open, to find the soft places I’ve been trying so hard to protect.

I turn and start walking away.

His hand shoots out, fingers closing tightly around my wrist. A sharp pull—

The world tilts as I lose my balance and fall onto his lap. His other arm wraps around my waist immediately, locking me against him, his palm firm against my hip.

My brows twist, irritation flaring through the numbness.

"What the hell—"

His grip tightens slightly.

"Fine."

His voice drops into a low murmur beside my ear.

"I won’t call you that. I won’t overwhelm you with my pheromones." A pause. "But I can’t stay away from you."

I try to pry his hand away, my fingers fumbling uselessly against his strength. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t even seem bothered by my struggling.

"Leave me alone."

He leans closer instead. His head rests against my chest, his ear pressed over my heartbeat, listening to a rhythm that already seems to belong to him.

"Just accept me, Zyren."

I stare down at him.

His blue hair falls across his forehead, soft and tousled. His eyes are closed, dark lashes resting against pale skin. His jaw is relaxed, his lips slightly parted.

He looks peaceful. He looks like he’s been waiting for this moment for years.

Accept him.

The words echo quietly in my mind, but I don’t know what they mean anymore. I don’t know if I’m ready for this—for him, for anyone, for the weight of another person leaning against all the broken parts of me.

He holds me like I’m something worth holding. Like I’m not too broken to touch. Like the shattered pieces of me are still worth gathering carefully back together.

And I don’t have the strength to push him away.

I don’t have the strength for anything at all.