After Being Coaxed And Seduced By A Yandere Omega Heartthrob - Chapter 4

Ever since she could remember, Sylvia had never slept peacefully at night.

Nightmares lay in wait for her every night like hunters stalking prey, tearing and gnawing at her until she was trapped in suffocation and struggle.

Yet the moment she startled awake, the contents of those dreams would instantly blur. Sylvia could never remember anything clearly. All that remained was a trembling fear that seemed to rise from the very depths of her soul.

That was obviously not normal.

Madam Winters had taken her to countless renowned doctors, but none could determine the cause. Later, she even considered taking Sylvia to see a witch.

The witch who lived in the tower told them that Sylvia had been “trapped” by fate. Everything she glimpsed was both her past life and her future.

And there was almost no way to break free from it.

She could only let nature take its course.

In order to take better care of her, her mother specially hired a group of personal maids.

After training, they were screened layer by layer until the best among them were selected to accompany Sylvia at night and coax her to sleep. If there were any signs that the young lady was about to wake from a nightmare, they had to appear immediately and comfort her.

Only then did Sylvia finally gain some rare peace.

After reaching adulthood, she had nightmares far less often.

Although the dreams were fragmented and she still never saw specific details, that did nothing to lessen her fear of the sensation of being coveted.

So many faceless people entangled themselves with her, demanding that she develop romantic relationships with all of them at the same time.

In the end, they even reached an agreement to share her…

Not only that, Sylvia also began dreaming about things that would happen in the future.

Unfortunately, the visions were fragmented, and she could never tell exactly when they would occur.

On the night of her coming-of-age ceremony, she dreamed that she would become a top-tier Omega. A few days later, despite everyone assuming she would differentiate into an Alpha like Duke Winters, she truly differentiated into an Omega.

She dreamed that an accidental ankle injury would cost her the chance to participate in a certain competition. Despite being exceptionally careful before the event and even hiring bodyguards to stay beside her every moment, her car was still rear-ended.

And somehow, out of her entire body, only her leg was injured.

Sylvia began to fear sleep.

Especially after the personal maid who had cared for her the longest suddenly differentiated into an Alpha and was forced to change positions.

Habit was a terrifying thing.

During the first week without Song Lian, Sylvia simply stared at the ceiling every night until daylight broke, then went to school with dark circles beneath her eyes.

Even if she accidentally fell asleep, fear would sink its teeth into her again before long. Not even sedatives allowed her to rest peacefully.

More often than not, she couldn’t distinguish reality from dreams.

After waking, she would grab whatever happened to be within reach and smash it onto the floor, resisting anyone who tried to touch her.

The new maids would panic and fumble helplessly.

Sylvia would lose control and sob.

That was what happened most often in the manor during that period.

Until the duke turned his attention to Song Zhao—

the girl born of the same mother as Song Lian.

Sylvia had seen her beside Song Lian more than once.

They hadn’t interacted much, but Sylvia had a very good impression of her.

She was bright and attractive, likable in personality, diligent with her hands, and excellent at school.

Aside from her background and her hearing impairment, Song Zhao could almost be said to have no flaws.

Besides, no matter who you were, it was difficult to dislike a girl who grew upward with the resilience of a poplar tree.

Yet even Sylvia herself hadn’t expected that, despite this being the first time they truly spent time together, Song Zhao’s mere presence would make her feel relaxed.

Even when nightmares woke her, Song Zhao’s comfort could give her back the sense of security she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

And…

Ever since Song Zhao appeared, Sylvia discovered that the contents of her dreams had begun to connect.

.

After settling the Omega beneath the covers, Song Zhao sat back down in the beanbag chair beside the bed.

The chair had been left behind by her sister.

Worried that it would look too out of place, Song Lian had deliberately chosen one in creamy white to match the overall style of the room.

Once flattened, it could even serve as a mattress. Song Zhao had been sleeping there for the past few days so she could easily get up during the night and soothe Sylvia.

Before sitting down, she adjusted its angle so that her face was directly oriented toward the head of the bed, allowing her to keep an eye on her employer at all times.

Only after everything was arranged did she pull an old phone from an inner pocket.

Its screen was cracked into a spiderweb.

Song Zhao kept saying she needed to replace the screen protector, but every time she passed a stall that offered the service, she pretended she hadn’t seen it.

After all, it still worked fine.

Her thumb pressed the power button.

The slightly laggy system took a moment to respond.

Almost the instant the screen lit up, the pre-installed news app immediately pushed more than a dozen trending topics related to Yalos.

Song Zhao ignored every one of them and instead tapped into the current affairs section, continuing the article she hadn’t finished reading that morning.

Although this world was fictional, everywhere the original author had never mentioned still operated normally and completely, following a set of rules and logic utterly different from the world Song Zhao had once known.

Take the Connaught language, the official language of this country, for example.

To Song Zhao’s ears, it sounded like some strange hybrid of English and French.

The worst part was that when the “system” sent her here, it hadn’t installed any new language pack for her.

When she first transmigrated, she could only pretend to be mute for a while until she crammed vocabulary and grammar throughout elementary school and finally became capable of normal conversation.

From then on, she developed a habit of reading.

Before, it had been old newspapers.

Now it was current-affairs articles.

She needed access to constantly updated information so she could become a genuine “Connaught citizen.”

Song Zhao read attentively, but she always kept half her attention on Sylvia.

Every so often, she would raise her eyes to check on her.

Once she confirmed everything was fine, her gaze would smoothly return to the screen.

Sylvia was currently in the “dormant period” that followed medication.

Apparently, this sort of side effect only happened to Alphas and Omegas with weaker constitutions.

Song Zhao had asked her sister about it before.

At most, it should last an hour.

But this time…

it seemed a little long.

She waited on the chair from dusk until the moon climbed above the tree branches.

Through the half-open window came the distant strains of an elegant waltz.

It seemed the banquet was already nearing its end.

At one point, a coworker quietly entered to bring her food.

Because they were afraid of disturbing Sylvia, Song Zhao received a nearly odorless fruit salad this time.

It was still enough to fill her stomach.

Using the small night-light beside the bed, Song Zhao ate her dinner.

Just as she placed the final half of a strawberry into her mouth, the room—so quiet that even the air seemed on the verge of solidifying—finally produced another sound.

More precisely, Sylvia suddenly shot upright in bed as though badly frightened.

Her catlike blue eyes stared blankly in Song Zhao’s direction, startling Song Zhao so badly she nearly threw the entire plate, dressing and all.

She tentatively waved an arm in front of those blue eyes.

No reaction.

She probably hadn’t fully emerged from deep sleep yet.

Song Zhao temporarily set the plate on the water station, then took a glass from the nearby drying rack and filled it with warm water.

Throughout the entire process, Sylvia maintained the exact same posture.

When Song Zhao returned and looked more closely, she suddenly noticed tears overflowing from the corners of the Omega’s eyes.

The hand supporting the bottom of the glass paused.

As she bent down, Song Zhao heard herself ask with concern,

“Miss Syl, are you all right?”

Why was she crying?

No one had ever mentioned she had a bad temper after waking up.

Sylvia seemed not to hear her.

Only after a long while did she answer with an unrelated question.

“What time is it now?”

The girl’s voice was low, hoarse, and dry, as though she hadn’t spoken for half a century.

Yet it wasn’t unpleasant to hear.

Instead, it somehow made Song Zhao’s heart ache.

She turned her head toward the quartz clock on the wall.

The room was dim, so she could only make out the approximate shape of the hands.

“Ten twenty-seven.”

“No. That’s not what I mean—”

“Today is the thirtieth. Sunday.”

Song Zhao looked back at her.

Only after a long pause did Sylvia gently nod.

She must have slept herself stupid.

Song Zhao took a step closer and bent down, bringing the glass in front of the Omega.

“Have some water first. Are you hungry now? Do you want me to notify the kitchen ahead of time?”

Sylvia mechanically shook her head.

Her fingertips trembled violently as she reached for the glass.

Seeing that, Song Zhao instinctively extended it farther toward her.

The water rippled inside, lightly lapping at the warm mist clinging to the glass.

Sylvia probably intended to grasp the cup directly.

But her movement went slightly off course, and she accidentally placed her hand on top of Song Zhao’s instead.

The dry back of Song Zhao’s hand suddenly felt something warm and delicate, along with the faint dampness of sweat.

Did you have a nightmare?

Song Zhao asked with her eyes.

Sylvia first shook her head.

Then, almost imperceptibly, nodded.

She looked utterly miserable.

The flush on the Omega’s cheeks had already vanished.

Beneath her skin, that smooth ceramic-white pallor had returned.

Without lipstick, her lips were very pale.

She still seemed immersed in her own world, apparently unaware that she was trembling or that her palm had gone cold.

Song Zhao sighed inwardly.

She simply maintained their current position and brought the rim of the glass to Sylvia’s soft lips.

Lifting her arm slightly, she slowly fed the water into her mouth.

Once Sylvia had drunk enough, she raised her eyes to look at Song Zhao.

Song Zhao immediately understood and took the glass away.

Her gaze lingered for a brief moment on Sylvia’s water-dampened lips.

Like a rose saturated with water.

The petals had finally regained some vitality beneath the dew.

“Do you want to eat?”

The girl shook her head.

Her lowered lashes concealed the confusion and complexity in her eyes.

“I want to take a bath first.”

“Okay. I’ll run the water for you.”

Song Zhao agreed immediately and shuffled toward the bathroom in her slippers.

She had been working here for less than a week, so she actually wasn’t very familiar with the bathroom yet.

As she walked, her rapidly spinning brain began recalling the temperature Sylvia usually preferred, as well as the approximate locations of the various bath products her sister had told her about.

She personally switched on the bathroom light.

The sudden warm glow made Song Zhao instinctively narrow her eyes.

Before she could step inside, a clear female voice sounded behind her.

Just like countless times before, gently calling her by her full name.

“Song Zhao?”

“Hm? What is it, Miss Syl?”

“Thank you.”

Sylvia’s voice was soft and unhurried.

Her misty blue eyes shimmered brightly.

The bathroom light fell on Song Zhao alone, almost as though separating the two of them into different worlds.

Song Zhao shrugged.

She assumed Sylvia was thanking her for preparing the bathwater.

Like an actor taking a bow beneath a spotlight, she politely lifted the hem of her skirt and performed a perfectly standard royal curtsy, solemn yet playful.

“Just doing my duty.”

As she hoped, when she looked up, she saw the faintest smile appear on the Omega’s face.

At least it diluted some of that overwhelming sadness.

Seeing that her employer’s mood had finally improved, Song Zhao stopped lingering.

She slipped into the bathroom and turned on the tap.

The bathtub inside was enormous—large enough to hold two adults with plenty of room to spare.

Because of that, filling it always took a little while.

Moving efficiently, Song Zhao took an ironed bathrobe from the cabinet, followed by a washcloth and anything else Sylvia might need.

She arranged everything on the low rattan shelf beside the tub.

By the time she finished, the bathtub was exactly half full.

She dropped a milky-white bath bomb inside.

Almost the instant it touched the water, the solid sphere dissolved as though boiling, aggressively dyeing the clear water completely white.

The only scent in the air was the delicate fragrance of white roses.

When passing the vanity, Song Zhao also picked up the pink butterfly claw clip lying in the corner.

After returning, she thoughtfully gathered Sylvia’s long hair and clipped it up so it wouldn’t get wet later.

“All done, Miss Syl.”

Song Zhao looked at her handiwork with satisfaction.

The fine sensation of Sylvia’s hair still lingered against her slightly curled fingertips.

“If you need anything else, just call me.”

“You don’t have to call me ‘Miss.’”

Sylvia glanced back over her shoulder, her voice still carrying traces of fatigue.

“At least when it’s only the two of us, you can call me by my name like before.”

“…Okay.”

Song Zhao’s brows lifted slightly.

She was a little surprised Sylvia would say that.

But then she remembered the heroine’s characterization in the original novel and decided it made sense.

“Song Zhao?”

The Omega called her again, as though wanting to confirm something.

“I’m here, Syl.”

Song Zhao flashed her a smile.

Compared with “Sylvia,” she was still more accustomed to calling her simply “Syl.”

The slight crease between the girl’s brows visibly relaxed.

Just when Song Zhao thought the matter was over, Sylvia suddenly did something else she hadn’t expected.

As though extending an invitation, she naturally opened both arms toward Song Zhao.

Not very wide.

Just enough to make it seem as though she were offering her whole body to Song Zhao.

Song Zhao’s brain instinctively interpreted it as asking for a hug.

A moment later, she realized how ridiculous that thought was.

For a brief instant, Song Zhao began wondering whether she had somehow missed a lesson.

Otherwise, why couldn’t she remember what this gesture was supposed to mean in Connaught culture?

Perhaps Song Zhao’s complete lack of response confused her.

The brows Sylvia had only just relaxed lifted again in puzzlement.

A soft sound came from her nose.

“Hmm?”

The rising tone drifted into Song Zhao’s ear like a feather, faint and slightly unreal.

Song Zhao focused and saw Sylvia curl her fingers toward her again.

Like a cat waiting to be gathered into someone’s arms.

“Can you carry me over?”

Sylvia said it openly, lifting her chin to look at her.

“I don’t have any strength. I can’t walk.”

“I mean, I can—”

Song Zhao obediently stepped over on reflex.

But as she bent down, another thought crossed her mind.

Was this actually part of her job?

Her sister never said she also had to function as transportation…

Song Zhao lowered herself and reached out, preparing to carry Sylvia horizontally.

But that wasn’t what Sylvia wanted.

Instead, she recreated the same koala-like embrace from earlier.

After wrapping her arms around Song Zhao’s slender neck, she offered herself forward.

Those long legs once again circled Song Zhao’s waist, loosely holding her there as she waited to be supported.

The air Song Zhao breathed was once more completely saturated with that familiar fragrance.

Sweeter even than the white roses dissolved into the bathwater.

The person in her arms was warm and soft, effortlessly stealing every bit of Song Zhao’s attention.

Instinctively, Song Zhao hugged her back.

She felt the reassuring weight in her arms.

Her palm happened to settle against Sylvia’s shoulder blade.

Then, slowly, almost as though correcting its position, she moved it down toward the small of Sylvia’s back.

She had no idea that the warm, pressing touch would create a fine, persistent itch.

It teased an involuntary sigh of satisfaction from the Omega.

After merging with highly compatible pheromones, the body became somewhat sensitive for a short period.

Even after being satisfied, it still craved close, attentive skin contact.

It could be meticulous aftercare.

Or simply an embrace where every inch of their bodies fit together.

Either one could fill the swelling loneliness and longing inside.

So warm.

So comfortable…

Sylvia rested her chin in the crook of Song Zhao’s neck.

Almost unconsciously, she tried to draw more warmth from her.

Tilting her head slightly, she brought her lips close to the ear wearing Song Zhao’s hearing aid.

Even her urging sounded soft.

“Hurry up and go in.”

At those words, Song Zhao’s hands trembled.

Her fingertips brushed Sylvia’s skin, neither lightly nor heavily, earning a deeper breath in response.

The warm airflow landed ambiguously against Song Zhao’s sensitive ear, instantly raising a faint flush.

Song Zhao gave an outwardly calm,

“Oh.”

But the palm pressed against Sylvia’s body betrayed her, growing damp.

Holding her tightly, Song Zhao strode toward the bathroom almost as though fleeing.