The Amnesiac Omega Awakening

02

Chapter 2

The triplets returned, and Curtis emerged from his bath to find me already setting the table. Their eyes widened as they took in the scene – me, meticulously arranging their meal.

"What are you all staring at? Eat," I said, my voice firm yet gentle.

I sat down first, the children and Curtis quickly following. Two dishes sat on the table: a simple serving of vegetables and a small portion of meat – barely enough for one person. Curtis and the children instinctively chose the vegetables. The meat was left for me.

A small pile of coins lay beside the dishes – Curtis's meager remaining earnings.

"Tomorrow, before you come home, buy meat. Plenty of it. The children need nutritious food," I instructed Curtis. One of the triplets let out a soft whimper. I divided the meat into four equal portions, giving each child a share.

Curtis's voice was hesitant, questioning. "Alruna, why have you changed so suddenly?"

The thought crossed my mind: if I told him I wasn't the original Alruna, would he believe me? "Perhaps I've decided I want a new life with you," I replied, my tone flat, devoid of emotion. It wasn't a bad arrangement; I had a hardworking husband and three adorable children.

Curtis remained silent, offering no immediate reaction. I wasn't expecting instant acceptance.

Later, I noticed Curtis preparing to sleep on the floor. The former Alruna, repulsed by Curtis's beta status, had been oblivious to the silent suffering she inflicted. His patience and endurance were truly remarkable.

"Curtis, if my pheromones don't bother you, you can sleep beside me," I suggested, my offer a tentative olive branch. He quickly shook his head, busying himself with arranging his makeshift pillow.

"Ah, okay," I mumbled, lying down and turning my back. I was genuinely concerned for him, not trying to be difficult. Frustration welled up inside me, and I pulled the blanket over my face.

"Are you upset?" Curtis asked softly, his voice laced with concern.

"No," I lied, the lie a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Don't lie. Your pheromones are keep shifting," he stated calmly, his observation accurate and perceptive.

I turned to face him. "Why don't you want to sleep beside me? Is it my size? Are you afraid I'll crush you?" I asked, my irritation flaring. He chuckled, a deep, masculine sound that surprised me. It somehow made him even more appealing.

"Stop being unreasonable, Runa. I can carry you with one hand. You won't crush me," he said, his words laced with a gentle teasing tone.

I pouted, my anger dissolving into a speechless frustration. Handsome men like Curtis were simply too much for my heart to handle.

"You're more sensitive now because of the pregnancy. It's not safe if you're hit by your heat again," he added, his concern palpable.

I shifted, lying on my side facing him. I reached out and took his hand. He paused, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

"Husband and wife should sleep together, but since you mentioned my heightened sensitivity, let's just hold hands," I suggested, my words a carefully chosen approach to intimacy. Physical touch – it was the first step towards forging a genuine connection.

"Hurry up, my arm is going to be numb," I complained playfully, flexing my hand. He gently but firmly disengaged our hands.

"It's too inconvenient," he said, his tone apologetic yet resolute. A wave of disappointment washed over me. Had he already realized I wasn't worthy of being his wife, his omega?

A short while later, however, his hand found mine again, resting on the edge of the bed.

"Go to sleep," he whispered, lying down beside me, our hands clasped.

Contentment washed over me. I squeezed his hand, whispered a goodnight, tucked our hands under the blanket, and closed my eyes.

The next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. Curtis was gone, his sleeping mat rolled up and empty.

I found the triplets diligently cleaning the hut. "Aww, my diligent children," I murmured, a genuine warmth filling my voice. Their ears flushed, mirroring their father's shy reaction to compliments.

"Have you eaten?" I asked. They nodded in unison.

"I'll heat your food, Mom," one of the triplets offered, taking a bowl from the table and heading towards the cooking area.

One child pulled out a chair for me, another brought me a drink. When the baby arrived, I would put a stop to this. They were children, not servants.

A triplet approached with a glass of water. I noticed a discarded rag on the floor.

"Raven! The rag!" I shouted, leaping up in alarm. The glass slipped from the child's grasp, spilling hot water onto Raven, who screamed and fell to the floor.

"Help!" I cried, frantically tearing at Raven's clothes; her chest was already blistered.

Trembling, I comforted Raven, my heart pounding with fear and guilt. Curtis arrived, followed by concerned neighbors.

"Raven," Curtis breathed, his eyes widening in horror as he saw the extent of the burn. His gaze turned icy, his voice sharp and accusatory. "What did you do again, Alruna?!" He shoved me aside, his movements rough and uncontrolled, scooping up Raven. His voice was a low, menacing growl. "I thought you'd changed. Why did I even hope?" His words felt like physical blows to my chest.

The neighbors' whispered comments were like tiny needles piercing my skin. "If Alruna weren't an omega... Curtis wouldn't stay. She hurts the children every day. Poor Raven."

"Hot water... that'll leave a terrible scar."

Tears streamed down my face. It wasn't my fault, but the crushing weight of guilt threatened to suffocate me.

I wiped my cheeks, steeling myself. No. I was a doctor. My child, my patient. I would create a medicine, a scar-removing cream.

Curtis took Raven to the village healer, leaving the other two children with me. He returned later, his face grim, carrying food. Freya explained the accident: Raven had simply stepped on the wet rag Freya had been using to mop the floor.

Curtis dropped the food, the sudden silence in the hut heavy with unspoken tension. "Alruna!" he roared, rushing inside. He flipped on the light switch, his eyes scanning the room. He found the hut empty. His body trembled, his shoulders slumping with despair.

"Dad? Mom?" Freya's voice was a fragile whisper, laced with fear. He thought Alruna had left, gone back to Faolan.

"Why is the food outside? Where's Dad?" The twins looked around, their eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.

I watched them, a strange mixture of curiosity and apprehension replacing my initial panic.

"Mom!"

The twins flung themselves at me, their embrace hesitant, as though testing the waters.

"What happened to Raven, Curtis? Why are you crying? Is she seriously hurt?" I asked, my voice laced with anxiety, gently holding their heads.

Curtis took a shaky breath, his body visibly trembling. "She's been treated. She'll be home tomorrow." Relief washed over me, a wave of gratitude and concern for my children.

"You scared me," I whispered, my voice hoarse with emotion. They had looked as though they had lost someone precious.

"Sorry," we both said simultaneously, the word hanging between us, heavy with unspoken feelings. Our eyes met, a shared apology hanging in the air.

"I should have let you explain," Curtis whispered, his voice filled with regret. I shook my head, my gaze fixed on his. "There's a part where it's truly my fault. I didn't protect our child."

His eyes widened, surprise and confusion battling for dominance. I looked at him, my expression serious, determined. "Our child?" he repeated, the words hanging in the air. I frowned and lightly tapped his chest.

"Don't tell me you're doubting Raven is our child! You are my first!" I snapped, my voice sharp, my protective instincts flaring. He caught my wrist, his touch gentle yet firm. The twins covered their eyes, their innocence shielding them from the sudden intensity of the moment.

The warmth in his eyes, the way "our child" sounded... it was a beautiful, profound affirmation.

"That's not what I meant."

I pulled back my hand, my voice firm. "I didn't endure the pain of childbirth for you to deny them."

The next morning, Curtis frowned at the basket of leaves I was drying in the yard. "What are you collecting?"

These weren't ordinary leaves. They were rare herbs, powerful medicines I had discovered in the forest the previous day.

"Herbal medicine for Raven."

He shook his head, his skepticism evident. "You can't just apply leaves to a burn."

"I know that. It's safe. If you don't trust me, I'll try it on myself..."

"Stop this nonsense, Alruna," he said, his voice firm, his hand reaching out to stop me. I dropped the basket, the herbs scattering on the ground. "You don't know anything about medicine."

I snatched back my arm, my voice rising in defiance. "How do you know?" I challenged, my eyes searching his. I wanted to know what else he knew about me, beyond my status as an omega.

"Can we try to trust each other, Curtis?" I asked, my voice softening, my plea heartfelt. He hesitated, lowering his hand slightly.

"I won't harm Raven. I'll prove I can change, for our family. Give me a chance," I pleaded, my voice filled with desperation and determination. His silence felt like a rejection, a deep wound to my heart.

My omega status, my reputation as a wife and mother... if my own family couldn't trust me, how could I ever hope to earn the trust of others?

As I turned to leave, his hand caught mine. "Can I help?"

He looked at me, his eyes earnest, a glimmer of hope replacing the doubt. "I'll try it first," he said, referring to the medicine.

Gratitude flooded me, washing away the lingering doubt and fear. "Thank you." I promised I wouldn't fail him, I would heal our child. "I will heal our child," I repeated, the words carrying a weight of determination and love.

He helped me dry the leaves, meticulously preparing the ingredients. I was amazed by his unexpected skill with wood, his deft hands creating the perfect tools for grinding the herbs.

We lacked some tools, but we were making progress. "Gosh, thank you! I have a talented husband!" I compliment him out excitement, hugging him tightly, my happiness overflowing.

I kissed his cheek, my heart soaring. "Don't run, Runa. You'll fall," he called out as I happily carried the new tools into the house.