Page 20 of Redeeming His Omega Mate

There was something about her that felt familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe it was her eyes. I watched as her fingers gently brushed over the petals as if she were handling something sacred.

“You seem to know your way around flowers,” I said.

She nodded enthusiastically. “I help in the garden at the pack school! Mrs. Willow says I have a green thumb. I don’t really know what that means, but I think it’s good ‘cause she sometimes lets me take care of her favorite flowerpot.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her innocent misunderstanding. “It means you’re really good with plants. I’m sure you’re amazing at it,” I said, genuinely charmed.

Her face lit up, and a strange warmth spread through me. It was rare for me to connect with anyone this quickly, let alone a child. But with Aria, it felt effortless.

“In school, we have a big garden where we plant flowers,” she said, stretching her hands to show just how big. “I spend most of my break time there with my best friend, Tobias, talking with the flowers.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Talking?”

She nodded, smiling. “Not like people,” she clarified. “But they have meanings. Like daisies mean happiness, and marigolds mean courage. Roses mean love,” she made a face, “but that’s boring. Everyone knows that.”

I chuckled. “You’re right. Roses are overrated. What’s your favorite flower, then?”

She paused, furrowing her brows in thought. “Hmm…I think lavender. It smells really nice, and it makes people calm. Mrs. Willow says it helps when you’re sad or stressed.”

For some reason, I made a mental note to tell the servants to replace the carnations in the living room with lavender.

Something about her innocence, her pure joy, hit me right in the chest. I hadn’t felt this kind of lightness in years.

“You know a lot about flowers for someone your age,” I said. “That’s impressive.”

She shrugged modestly. “Mummy says it’s good to know things. And I like learning.”

Just as I was about to say something else, she tilted her head up and asked, “What’s your favorite flower, Damian?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Hmm.” I stroked my jaw. “You know, I’ve never really thought about it. Not that I don’t like flowers. I just never gave it much thought.”

“You should,” she said seriously. “It should be something that suits you. Mrs. Willow says everyone has a flower that suits them.” She paused, her big eyes studying me as she considered it. “I think you’re a sunflower.”

I chuckled. “A sunflower? Why’s that?”

“Because they’re big and tall and strong,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Just like you. Sunflowers always stand out in the field because of their height.”

Her words surprised me. A sunflower? I liked the idea. Tall, strong, and always standing out. It wasn’t exactly inaccurate. I smirked, not sure if I should be flattered or amused, but it was a bit of both.

A sudden rustling and the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted the conversation. I turned just as Tala burst into the garden, her expression frantic. Her eyes locked on Aria, and relief flooded her face.

“Aria!” she called, rushing over.

“Mummy!” The little girl called back, and I froze on the spot.

Mummy? My stomach dropped. Since when does Tala have a child?

I straightened up as Tala reached us, pulling Aria into a tight hug. “I told you not to wander off,” she murmured, her voice soft but laced with concern as she kissed the top of Aria’s head.

“I’m sorry, Mummy,” Aria said, her voice full of innocence.

“It’s alright,” Tala replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Just don’t do it again.”

I stood there the entire time, frozen in shock. My mind was racing. How? When? Had she moved on? Had she really forgotten about everything that happened between us? But there was a bigger question clouding my thoughts.

Tala didn’t acknowledge me as she held Aria’s hand, ready to leave. But just before she turned, Aria pulled her hand away and ran toward me. “Good night, Damian,” she said with a bright smile.

I managed a smile, though it was more out of surprise than anything else. “Good night, Aria.”

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