The Alpha's forbidden omega mate - Chapter 101: Chapter 101

Catrina's POV:
The familiar scent of pine and old wood smoke that always greeted me at the Mondragon mansion felt different now.
It wasn't just the lingering tang of blood and fear from the recent battle at the Magnus Hotel, though that added a chilling scent.
It was the palpable shift in the air, the weight of unspoken tension that clung to the pack.
Rowan was officially Alpha now.
The formal ceremony had been brief, somber, a contrast to the spectacle of his forced wedding to Isabelle.
He'd taken his vows with a gravity that sent shivers down my spine, his amber eyes blazing with a power that both captivated and scared me.
But since then, he'd been distant.
He'd barely spoken to me, spending most of his time locked in meetings with Derek, who now served as his Beta, or training with a ferocity that bordered on self-destructive.
I sat in the rocking chair by the nursery window, Lucas nestled happily in my arms, his tiny chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath.
He was my anchor, the only constant in this sea of uncertainty.
"He's just stressed, Cat," Dakota said, her voice soft, trying to reassure me as she straightened a stack of hand-knitted baby blankets.
"Being Alpha is a heavy burden. He'll come around."
I wanted to believe her. I clung to the memory of Rowan's fierce protectiveness during the kidnapping attempt, the raw desperation in his eyes when he thought I was hurt.
But a nagging doubt, a cold whisper of fear, wormed its way into my heart.
What if he's regretting his choice?
The thought echoed in my mind…
What if being with an omega is too much for an Alpha to bear?
I tried to push the negativity away, focusing on Lucas's sweet scent, the warmth of his tiny body against mine.
But the truth was, Rowan hadn't looked at me, truly looked at me, since the moment we returned from the hospital.
His touch was hesitant, his kisses fleeting, his words clipped and formal.
“Rowan?” I called out, my voice barely a whisper.
He froze mid-stride, his broad back stiff, the muscles in his arms tense even beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. For a moment, he didn't move, didn't even breathe.
Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, he turned.
His amber eyes, usually so full of warmth and light, were shadowed, distant.
The lines around his mouth, etched there by exhaustion in recent weeks, seemed deeper, more pronounced.
“Catrina,” he acknowledged, his voice lacking its usual tender tone.
It was clipped, formal, the tone he reserved for pack meetings and tense negotiations.
My heart ached, a dull throb in my chest that mirrored the ache in my arms from where Brock had hurt me.
He was trying so hard to be strong, to be the Alpha everyone expected him to be.
But in doing so, he was pushing me away, building walls between us higher and stronger than any prison cell.
“Is everything alright?” I asked, though the fear in my own voice betrayed my composure.
Lucas, thankfully oblivious to the tension in the air, gurgled happily in my arms, his tiny hand reaching out as if trying to bridge the split that had opened between his father and me.
Rowan’s eyes went down to our son, a flicker of some pain crossing his features.
“He looks beautiful, Catrina,” he said, his voice softening a little.
But it was a small moment, gone as quickly as it appeared.
He didn’t move closer, didn’t reach out to touch, to soothe, to offer the comfort I craved.
“I…I just wanted to talk,” I said, my voice catching in my throat.
The words felt clumsy, inadequate, but they were all I had. “About us. About everything that's happened.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, the only sign of his inner turmoil.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Catrina,” he said, his tone clipped once more. “What’s done is done. We have a pack to rebuild.”
My breath hitched, a sob rising in my chest. He made it sound so final, so absolute.
Was this it then?
Was our bond, the love we’d fought so hard for, destined to crumble under the weight of responsibility?
“Don’t do this, Rowan,” I pleaded, my voice cracking.
“Don’t shut me out. We’re in this together, remember? You, me, Lucas… we’re a family.”
He closed his eyes, like my words pained him physically.
“Families can be complicated, Catrina,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Especially when they're bound by duty, by bloodlines tainted with darkness…”
His words trailed off, leaving me full of questions and unspoken fears.
Was he talking about the Kezrach Larva, the ancient curse that still haunted his pack?
Or was it something deeper, more primal, a fear rooted in the conflict about being Alpha and Omega mates, a fear that whispered of forbidden love and impossible choices?
“What are you saying, Rowan?” I asked, my voice barely audible above the pounding of my own heart.
He opened his eyes then, and for a small moment, I saw a glimpse of the wolf I knew, the one who had risked everything for me, who had faced down demons both real and imagined.
But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a mask of stoicism.
“I’m saying,” he said, his voice flat, “that I need time, Catrina. Time to figure things out. Time to be the Alpha my pack needs me to be.”
And before I could say another word, before I could break down the walls he’d so carefully built around his heart, he turned and walked away.
The scent of pine and old magic lingered in his wake, a bittersweet reminder of the bond we shared, a bond that felt as fragile as a spider’s silk, stretched by the weight of secrets and our tangled destiny.