The Alpha's forbidden omega mate - Chapter 122: Chapter 122
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Rowan POV:
“We’ll find him, Rowan. We have to.”
Isabelle’s voice, usually so sharp and commanding, was soft now.
Full of a compassion that surprised me.
She stood beside me, her gaze sweeping over the pack gathered in the forest clearing.
Their faces were lit by flickering torches, and the air was thick with the scent of fear and determination.
I just nodded, unable to speak. The grief and anger were a knot in my throat.
My wolf was a restless storm inside me, his senses overwhelmed by all the different emotions—anxiety, fear, the urge for revenge.
It had been two days since Lucas was taken. Two days of agonizing uncertainty, of searching every corner, of hope dwindling with every passing hour.
The mall security footage showed Emma disappearing into the crowded city streets, Lucas hidden in her arms.
His scent, that sweet milky smell that was only mine to recognize, was lost in the sea of human smells.
We’re failing him, my wolf whimpered, mirroring my own despair. We’re losing him.
“The city is a maze, Rowan,” Derek said, his voice grim as he joined us.
He looked at the pack—Magnus and Mondragon wolves, standing together, united by a common purpose, a shared desperation.
“Even with our senses, it’s like finding a needle in a haystack.”
“We can’t give up,” I said, my voice hoarse.
My jaw was clenched tight. “We have to keep searching. He’s out there. Scared. Alone. He needs us.”
The thought of Lucas, my tiny pup, lost and afraid in that cold, human city, fueled a rage inside me.
I wanted to tear the city apart until I found him, to punish whoever dared to take him from us.
“We’re not giving up, Rowan,” Isabelle said, her hand resting on my arm.
Her touch was firm, reassuring. It was a reminder that we were in this together, our packs united against a common enemy.
“We’ll find him,” she said, her voice strong and determined.
“We’ll search every inch of this city, every alley, every building, until we bring him home.”
She looked out at the pack, her voice ringing with Alpha command.
“We are the Magnus-Mondragon pack,” she declared.
Her words echoed through the forest, a rallying cry that sent shivers down my spine.
“We don’t abandon our pups. We don’t give in to fear. We hunt. We track. We protect.”
Her words sparked a flicker of hope in the darkness. The Alpha instinct, the need to lead, to protect, surged through me.
“She’s right,” I said, my voice stronger now.
I looked at each wolf, meeting their eyes, acknowledging their fear and their determination.
“We will find Lucas. We will bring him home. And whoever took him will pay.”
The pack roared their agreement, a chorus of snarls and growls echoing through the forest.
They were ready to fight, to avenge, to do whatever it took to bring Lucas back.
The hunt began.
We split into smaller groups, each led by a seasoned warrior. Our senses were sharp, our wolves tuned to every scent, every sound, every change in the energy of the city.
But the city was overwhelming – a concrete jungle teeming with humans.
Their smells, their sounds, their chaotic energy, were a constant distraction.
We searched the streets, following every trace of Emma’s scent, a faint floral perfume that clung to the stale city air.
It was like trying to find a single thread in a tangled mess.
The city reeked of exhaust fumes, garbage, a thousand different human smells.
My wolf snarled in frustration. It was almost impossible to track anything here.
Days turned into a blur of searching, of asking questions, of chasing dead ends.
Each false lead, each unanswered prayer, chipped away at my hope, fueling the despair that threatened to swallow me whole.
We talked to everyone – homeless people, shopkeepers, anyone who might have seen Emma or Lucas.
We showed them pictures, offered rewards.
Our desperation was obvious, and our wolfish presence, even hidden beneath human clothes, made people nervous.
But the city was a tight-lipped beast, its secrets buried beneath concrete and indifference.
The humans went about their lives, oblivious to the drama unfolding beneath the surface, the desperate search for a lost pup.
Nights were the worst. I’d go back to the Mondragon mansion, my body exhausted, my spirit broken.
The scent of Catrina’s fear and sorrow was a constant reminder of my failure.
She barely spoke to me.
Her eyes, usually so warm and welcoming, were now guarded, distant. It was like a part of her had shut down, retreated to a place I couldn’t reach.
I hurt her. I pushed her away. And now, I’ve lost our son.
The thought was a constant ache in my chest, a reminder of my weakness, my failure to be the Alpha she needed.
I would find her in the nursery, rocking Lucas’s empty cradle, humming that lullaby she used to sing to him.
Her voice, so full of sadness, echoed the emptiness inside me.
I wanted to comfort her, to apologize, to beg her forgiveness.
But the words wouldn’t come. They felt useless, meaningless.
“You failed us, Rowan.” Her scent, laced with sorrow and bitterness, whispered the unspoken accusation. “You promised to protect us. And you broke that promise.”
Shame washed over me, a heavy suffocating wave. I was turning into my father, repeating his mistakes, failing to protect those I loved.
Isabelle, always practical, always in control, kept the search organized.
She sent her warriors to nearby towns, contacted allies, offered rewards.
Her determination, her focus on finding Lucas, was a stark contrast to my own despair.
One evening, as I was leaving the mansion, heading back to the city to continue the search, I found Isabelle waiting for me.
Her face was grim, her eyes filled with a worry that went beyond pack politics.
She understood the bond between mates, the primal connection that defied everything else.
“Rowan,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “We need to talk.”
I hesitated. My wolf bristled, wanting to avoid the confrontation, the judgment in her eyes.
She blames you, too. He growled, his voice full of resentment. She thinks you’re weak, just like the elders.
“I… I have to go, Isabelle,” I mumbled, avoiding her gaze. “The search… it can’t wait.”
“The search is pointless, Rowan,” she said, her voice sharp, cutting through my denial, the desperate hope I was clinging to.
“We’ve searched the entire city. There’s nothing. Emma’s gone. Vanished.”
“She can’t just… vanish,” I protested, my voice weak. “She’s human. We can track her scent.”
But even as I said it, I knew it was a lie. Hope was fading fast, leaving behind a chilling emptiness.
“You know it’s not that simple, Rowan,” Isabelle said, her voice weary.
“Something else is going on. Something… darker. Something we don’t understand.”
She looked at me, her eyes, usually so cold, now filled with a flicker of fear. It surprised me.
“We’re dealing with powers beyond us, Rowan,” she said.
“Powers that can manipulate, that can deceive, that can change reality itself.”
“Damien,” I whispered, the name sending a chill down my spine.
Brock’s words, his fear, came rushing back. It wasn’t just a human we were dealing with.
He was a powerful sorcerer, a master of ancient magic, who saw Catrina and Lucas as pawns in his game.
Isabelle nodded grimly. “He’s playing us, Rowan. Using our fear, our desperation, to break us.”
She stepped closer, her scent, a mix of lavender and vanilla, surprisingly comforting. It reminded me of her strength, a strength I’d foolishly pushed away.
“We can’t let him win, Rowan,” she said, her voice firm.
“We have to fight back. But we can’t do it alone. We need help. We need to understand him, before he destroys everything.”
Her eyes held mine, a silent plea for unity, for forgiveness.
She was asking me to put aside the past, the hurt, and work with her.
She’s right. We need each other. My wolf growled, understanding her words. We have to stand together if we’re going to beat this.
I nodded. “What do we do, Isabelle?”
I asked, humbled by the realization of my own weakness.
She smiled faintly, a flicker of hope in her eyes.
“We start at the beginning, Rowan,” she said, her voice strong and determined. “We find answers. We find allies. And we fight back. Together.”
As we stood there, shoulder to shoulder, bathed in moonlight, I felt a surge of hope, a tiny ember flickering in the darkness.
It was a chance to redeem myself, to protect my loved ones, to reclaim the future that had been stolen from us.
The hunt for Damien had begun. And this time, I wouldn’t fail.
“We’ll find him, Rowan. We have to.”
Isabelle’s voice, usually so sharp and commanding, was soft now.
Full of a compassion that surprised me.
She stood beside me, her gaze sweeping over the pack gathered in the forest clearing.
Their faces were lit by flickering torches, and the air was thick with the scent of fear and determination.
I just nodded, unable to speak. The grief and anger were a knot in my throat.
My wolf was a restless storm inside me, his senses overwhelmed by all the different emotions—anxiety, fear, the urge for revenge.
It had been two days since Lucas was taken. Two days of agonizing uncertainty, of searching every corner, of hope dwindling with every passing hour.
The mall security footage showed Emma disappearing into the crowded city streets, Lucas hidden in her arms.
His scent, that sweet milky smell that was only mine to recognize, was lost in the sea of human smells.
We’re failing him, my wolf whimpered, mirroring my own despair. We’re losing him.
“The city is a maze, Rowan,” Derek said, his voice grim as he joined us.
He looked at the pack—Magnus and Mondragon wolves, standing together, united by a common purpose, a shared desperation.
“Even with our senses, it’s like finding a needle in a haystack.”
“We can’t give up,” I said, my voice hoarse.
My jaw was clenched tight. “We have to keep searching. He’s out there. Scared. Alone. He needs us.”
The thought of Lucas, my tiny pup, lost and afraid in that cold, human city, fueled a rage inside me.
I wanted to tear the city apart until I found him, to punish whoever dared to take him from us.
“We’re not giving up, Rowan,” Isabelle said, her hand resting on my arm.
Her touch was firm, reassuring. It was a reminder that we were in this together, our packs united against a common enemy.
“We’ll find him,” she said, her voice strong and determined.
“We’ll search every inch of this city, every alley, every building, until we bring him home.”
She looked out at the pack, her voice ringing with Alpha command.
“We are the Magnus-Mondragon pack,” she declared.
Her words echoed through the forest, a rallying cry that sent shivers down my spine.
“We don’t abandon our pups. We don’t give in to fear. We hunt. We track. We protect.”
Her words sparked a flicker of hope in the darkness. The Alpha instinct, the need to lead, to protect, surged through me.
“She’s right,” I said, my voice stronger now.
I looked at each wolf, meeting their eyes, acknowledging their fear and their determination.
“We will find Lucas. We will bring him home. And whoever took him will pay.”
The pack roared their agreement, a chorus of snarls and growls echoing through the forest.
They were ready to fight, to avenge, to do whatever it took to bring Lucas back.
The hunt began.
We split into smaller groups, each led by a seasoned warrior. Our senses were sharp, our wolves tuned to every scent, every sound, every change in the energy of the city.
But the city was overwhelming – a concrete jungle teeming with humans.
Their smells, their sounds, their chaotic energy, were a constant distraction.
We searched the streets, following every trace of Emma’s scent, a faint floral perfume that clung to the stale city air.
It was like trying to find a single thread in a tangled mess.
The city reeked of exhaust fumes, garbage, a thousand different human smells.
My wolf snarled in frustration. It was almost impossible to track anything here.
Days turned into a blur of searching, of asking questions, of chasing dead ends.
Each false lead, each unanswered prayer, chipped away at my hope, fueling the despair that threatened to swallow me whole.
We talked to everyone – homeless people, shopkeepers, anyone who might have seen Emma or Lucas.
We showed them pictures, offered rewards.
Our desperation was obvious, and our wolfish presence, even hidden beneath human clothes, made people nervous.
But the city was a tight-lipped beast, its secrets buried beneath concrete and indifference.
The humans went about their lives, oblivious to the drama unfolding beneath the surface, the desperate search for a lost pup.
Nights were the worst. I’d go back to the Mondragon mansion, my body exhausted, my spirit broken.
The scent of Catrina’s fear and sorrow was a constant reminder of my failure.
She barely spoke to me.
Her eyes, usually so warm and welcoming, were now guarded, distant. It was like a part of her had shut down, retreated to a place I couldn’t reach.
I hurt her. I pushed her away. And now, I’ve lost our son.
The thought was a constant ache in my chest, a reminder of my weakness, my failure to be the Alpha she needed.
I would find her in the nursery, rocking Lucas’s empty cradle, humming that lullaby she used to sing to him.
Her voice, so full of sadness, echoed the emptiness inside me.
I wanted to comfort her, to apologize, to beg her forgiveness.
But the words wouldn’t come. They felt useless, meaningless.
“You failed us, Rowan.” Her scent, laced with sorrow and bitterness, whispered the unspoken accusation. “You promised to protect us. And you broke that promise.”
Shame washed over me, a heavy suffocating wave. I was turning into my father, repeating his mistakes, failing to protect those I loved.
Isabelle, always practical, always in control, kept the search organized.
She sent her warriors to nearby towns, contacted allies, offered rewards.
Her determination, her focus on finding Lucas, was a stark contrast to my own despair.
One evening, as I was leaving the mansion, heading back to the city to continue the search, I found Isabelle waiting for me.
Her face was grim, her eyes filled with a worry that went beyond pack politics.
She understood the bond between mates, the primal connection that defied everything else.
“Rowan,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “We need to talk.”
I hesitated. My wolf bristled, wanting to avoid the confrontation, the judgment in her eyes.
She blames you, too. He growled, his voice full of resentment. She thinks you’re weak, just like the elders.
“I… I have to go, Isabelle,” I mumbled, avoiding her gaze. “The search… it can’t wait.”
“The search is pointless, Rowan,” she said, her voice sharp, cutting through my denial, the desperate hope I was clinging to.
“We’ve searched the entire city. There’s nothing. Emma’s gone. Vanished.”
“She can’t just… vanish,” I protested, my voice weak. “She’s human. We can track her scent.”
But even as I said it, I knew it was a lie. Hope was fading fast, leaving behind a chilling emptiness.
“You know it’s not that simple, Rowan,” Isabelle said, her voice weary.
“Something else is going on. Something… darker. Something we don’t understand.”
She looked at me, her eyes, usually so cold, now filled with a flicker of fear. It surprised me.
“We’re dealing with powers beyond us, Rowan,” she said.
“Powers that can manipulate, that can deceive, that can change reality itself.”
“Damien,” I whispered, the name sending a chill down my spine.
Brock’s words, his fear, came rushing back. It wasn’t just a human we were dealing with.
He was a powerful sorcerer, a master of ancient magic, who saw Catrina and Lucas as pawns in his game.
Isabelle nodded grimly. “He’s playing us, Rowan. Using our fear, our desperation, to break us.”
She stepped closer, her scent, a mix of lavender and vanilla, surprisingly comforting. It reminded me of her strength, a strength I’d foolishly pushed away.
“We can’t let him win, Rowan,” she said, her voice firm.
“We have to fight back. But we can’t do it alone. We need help. We need to understand him, before he destroys everything.”
Her eyes held mine, a silent plea for unity, for forgiveness.
She was asking me to put aside the past, the hurt, and work with her.
She’s right. We need each other. My wolf growled, understanding her words. We have to stand together if we’re going to beat this.
I nodded. “What do we do, Isabelle?”
I asked, humbled by the realization of my own weakness.
She smiled faintly, a flicker of hope in her eyes.
“We start at the beginning, Rowan,” she said, her voice strong and determined. “We find answers. We find allies. And we fight back. Together.”
As we stood there, shoulder to shoulder, bathed in moonlight, I felt a surge of hope, a tiny ember flickering in the darkness.
It was a chance to redeem myself, to protect my loved ones, to reclaim the future that had been stolen from us.
The hunt for Damien had begun. And this time, I wouldn’t fail.
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