CHAPTER 17: RED LIKE SIN

Rhea stood in front of the heavy door, her fingers brushing over the cool metal of the key Ellie had pressed into her palm. For a moment she just stared at it, lips pursed, before sliding the key into the lock and turning it with a satisfying click. The door creaked open, and she slipped inside, shutting it firmly behind her as if sealing away the rest of the world.

"Wow... this place looks great," she muttered, the awe slipping into her tone before she could check it. She stepped deeper into the beta’s quarters, her eyes darting everywhere like a child in a candy store.

The space was large but not overwhelming, sleek with clean lines, the scent of cedar and something faintly smoky clinging to the air. The color red bled into nearly everything, scarlet curtains pooling on the floor, a deep wine rug underfoot, crimson throw pillows tossed over a dark leather couch, even the books stacked haphazardly on the shelves had spines in shades of maroon and ruby.

"Seems like we have something in common," Rhea murmured with a smile, fingertips trailing along the back of the couch.

She hadn’t bothered bringing any of the Omega’s belongings. Truth be told, she hadn’t even looked back at that horse-stall excuse of a shelter they dared to call a room. With the Omega’s memories guiding her, she came straight here.

Her hand brushed against the edge of a dresser, lingering over the smooth polished wood, then on the handle of a lamp with a base shaped like a dragon curling around its stem. When her gaze snagged on a tall mirror propped against the wall, she froze.

It hit her then. This was the first time she’d actually seen what the Omega looked like.

She stepped closer.

The girl staring back at her had long, pitch-black hair that brushed down past her shoulders, a stark difference from the brown strands Rhea was used to. The only familiarity were the eyes — blue, clear as frozen lakes, defiant even in their exhaustion.

She wore torn jeans, the kind that looked like they had fought, and lost, against a washing machine twenty too many times. On top, she wore a stretched-out, threadbare grey hoodie with holes near the elbows and stains that had long since stopped bothering to explain themselves.

"I can’t believe I’ve been walking around in this," Rhea muttered with a grimace. "First thing I’m asking from my new brother is a wardrobe change. No way I’m keeping this."

Leaning in closer, she studied the face reflected back.

She looked like a malnourished and neglected stray, the kind of girl people passed on the street without a second glance.

"Well... a beautiful malnourished omega," Rhea whispered, a bitter chuckle slipping from her lips.

Because the truth was undeniable. Beneath the starvation, the neglect, the hollow cheeks and too-sharp collarbones, the Omega was a stunner. A diamond left buried in dirt. It made Rhea’s stomach twist with anger. How could anyone let her get to this point?

"Well, that’s about to change," she said, more promise than thought.

Something caught her eye then. In the mirror’s reflection, on a side table just behind her shoulder, sat a plate with three perfect apples. Bright. Shiny. Red like sin.

Her stomach growled, loud and shameless, at the sight.

Rhea’s lips curved into something mischievous as her eyes lingered on the apples gleaming in the mirror’s reflection.

"Well, well... isn’t that a forbidden fruit in my favorite color?" she murmured, her voice low with amusement.

She turned, each step measured, like a predator closing in on prey. Her hand hovered over the plate before she finally snatched one of the apples. The skin was smooth, the weight solid, the chill of it biting into her palm. Without hesitation, she sank her teeth deep into it.

The crunch cracked through the quiet room. Sweetness flooded her mouth, a burst so vivid she couldn’t hold back the moan that slipped from her lips.

"Hmmm..."

Her knees nearly buckled. Her lashes fluttered. Her entire body hummed as if someone had plugged her into life itself. The first swallow set off a chain reaction, her stomach clawed for more, her mouth moved before her mind could even catch up.

Another bite. Then another. Her jaw worked fast, devouring, gulping down every piece like the air itself might steal it from her. The juice streamed down her chin, sticky and warm, sliding across her skin. She didn’t wipe it. She didn’t care.

The first apple vanished. Then the second. Gone faster than she thought possible, her body tearing through them as if they were the only food left in the world.

She reached for the third, chest rising and falling with urgency, her breath sharp. She paused only long enough to drag in a deep inhale, then bit into it hard. Juice spurted against her tongue, and her eyes fluttered again. She ate slower this time, but not by much, savoring, relishing. By the final bite, she was licking her fingers, chasing every trace.

That was when it hit her. The shudder. Her shoulders jerked as she caught herself, horror cracking through the haze.

"All this... for an apple?" she whispered, voice shaky. "No. Not me. It’s this body. It’s her."

Her gaze darted back to the mirror. The gaunt cheeks, the shadows under her eyes, the fragile frame. Hunger had carved this out of the Omega, forced her into desperation. Rage tightened Rhea’s jaw.

She curled her fists at her sides, breathing hard. "I’ll pay back whoever did this to you. I swear it."

The faint ache in her stomach shifted into something almost comforting. Food. Real food. It sat heavy but warm, grounding her in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

She pressed a hand to her belly, sighing. "Now... time to find the bathroom. I really need to freshen up."

Her eyes swept the room again, landing on a slim wooden door tucked against the far wall. She started toward it, the promise of water and soap pulling her forward.