All Chapters of The Kingpin's Captive (Omegaverse): Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Castiel's POV I finally found my voice, and I moved away from him immediately, "What are you doing?" My tone was firm, but I could feel a hint of unease beneath the surface. Elijah seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in, and he took a step back, his eyes widening with surprise. The sudden movement broke the spell that had held me frozen, and I felt a surge of relief wash over me. However, Elijah's gaze never left mine, and he still had that intriguing look on his face as he asked, "You're an Alpha, aren’t you Castiel?” “Y-yes?” I looked at him in confusion, unable to comprehend where this was going. “But you have a unique scent... the scent of an omega." His words hung in the air, and I felt a sense of trepidation wash over me. I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I get that a lot," I said, keeping my vo

Castiel’s P.O.V The world around me faded, and all I could focus on was Damien. His lips were warm and soft, and his kiss was everything I didn’t know I needed—a quiet assurance, a tether to pull me out of my spiraling thoughts. For a brief, stolen moment, it felt like everything was right again, as though nothing else existed except him and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my palm. I didn’t even realize my hand had wandered, bracing myself on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t until I shifted slightly that my palm pressed against his injured side. Damien hissed sharply, his body tensing beneath me. The sound snapped me back to reality like a bucket of ice water. I jerked back immediately, my eyes wide with alarm. “Damien!” I exclaimed, horror twisting in my chest. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—” Before I could even finish, Damien reached up and cupped the back of my neck, pulling me back down. His lips pressed against mine in a quick, silencing kiss, soft but firm enough to s

Damien’s P.O.V Andrea's words hung in the air like a carefully laid trap, waiting for me to step into it. I leaned back in the chair, folding my arms across my chest, my voice sharper than intended. "What's wrong with being happy? Isn’t that a good thing?"She smiled faintly, unfazed by my defensive tone. "It is, Damien. But I wasn’t suggesting there’s anything wrong. I just wanted to share what I found." She leaned against the counter, her pen tapping lightly on the clipboard in her hand. "For the past few years, your serotonin levels have been consistently low. That usually correlates with anxiety, stress, or even depression. But now..." Her gaze softened as she gestured to the report. "These elevated levels mean you're starting to step out of the shadows of your past. And, if I had to guess, I’d say a ‘certain blonde’ has something to do with it."I blinked, my thoughts grinding to a halt. "A certain

Elijah’s P.O.VThe car rolled to a stop in front of my mansion, the soft crunch of gravel under the tires fading into the cold, quiet evening. I stepped out, the crisp night air brushing against my face, and adjusted the cuffs of my jacket. The grand the mansion loomed before me, it stood like a fortress, a testament to my power, but tonight, I had something else on my mind.Aaron, my ever-loyal right-hand man, was already at my side, his tablet tucked under one arm. His face carried that usual stern professionalism, but I caught a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “The new club in Brooklyn is exceeding expectations,” he began, walking slightly behind me as I made my way up the steps. “VIP memberships are up by 20%, and we’ve had no major incidents. The Queens location, however, saw a slight dip in—” I held up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. I didn’t even glance his way, my

Castiel’s P.O.V The cold emptiness next to me on the bed startled me awake. I blinked against the sunlight coming in through the windows, my heart skipping a beat as I reached out to touch the sheets. They were cool. Damien wasn’t there. “Damien?” I called softly, sitting up. The room was bathed in the early morning sunlight, but there was no sign of him. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the haze of sleep. He shouldn’t be wandering around, not with his injuries. My eyes scanned the room, catching nothing but stillness. Then I heard it—the sound of running water. The bathroom. A surge of worry shot through me as I threw off the covers and hurried toward the bathroom door. I could hear the steady splash of water against the sink, and my chest tightened. Was he trying to bathe? If he got the bandages wet, it could ruin the stitches. “Damie