The Alpha's forbidden omega mate - Chapter 139: Chapter 139

Rowan POV:
“Dad?”
The word came out as a choked whisper. Disbelief and horror washed over me as the figure solidified, stepping out of the swirling mists.
It was him. My father. Marcus.
But… it wasn’t really him.
His eyes, usually cold and calculating, were empty, hollow.
They burned with a crimson fire, the same color as Damien’s.
His scent was wrong, too. It wasn’t the familiar smell of pine and leather and Alpha authority.
It was tainted, laced with the sick-sweet stench of decay, the smell of the Kezrach Larva that had twisted him, turned him into the monster I’d had to kill.
“It’s not really him, Rowan. It’s a trick, an illusion. Don’t let Damien play you.” My wolf growled, a warning rumble in my chest.
But it was hard to ignore the sight of him standing there, his shoulders squared, his jaw clenched.
He was looking at me with hatred… and maybe even disappointment?
“Dad, why…?” I started to ask, my voice trembling.
My mind was spinning, my heart a mess of emotions. I wanted answers.
I wanted the father I’d loved, the Alpha I’d admired. The man who had been stolen from me.
But before I could finish the question, his fist slammed into my jaw. The pain was blinding, and I saw stars.
“He’s stronger, Rowan. Damien’s magic is making him stronger. Be careful!” My wolf warned.
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog, to get my bearings. I had to face this… this thing that wore my father’s face, that smelled like him, but was empty inside. A shell.
“Let him go, Damien!” I roared, my voice raw with fury.
I glared at the sorcerer, who stood at the edge of the chamber, a cruel smile twisting his lips.
I didn’t want to fight this… puppet. I didn’t want to hurt the empty shell that Damien was using to taunt me, to distract me.
“You killed him once, Rowan,” Damien chuckled, his voice dripping with malice.
“You can do it again, can’t you?”
He was enjoying this, taking pleasure in my pain, in my confusion. He wanted to break me.
“He’s right. You killed me before. You can do it again.” A cold voice whispered in my head.
It was the echo of my father’s own words, the brutal lessons he’d taught me about survival, about dominance.
But I couldn’t. Not again. Not after all the sleepless nights, the therapy, the struggle to come to terms with what I’d done.
I’d found a different path now, a path of compassion and acceptance. I wouldn’t let Damien drag me back into that darkness.
The fight was brutal, raw, primal. I dodged my father’s attacks, but his movements were unnaturally fast, his strength amplified by Damien’s magic. His rage was cold, empty, nothing like the fire that had once burned in Marcus.
“He’s a puppet, Rowan. Don’t let him control you.” My wolf urged. “Remember what the Drakhor Clan taught you. Find your balance. Be the calm in the storm.”
I focused on my breathing, channeling the rage and fear into a steady energy. A silver light pulsed inside me, a shield against the darkness.
But it wasn’t enough. My father, powered by Damien’s magic, was relentless. I could barely block his attacks. My strength was fading, and I was losing hope.
We can’t beat him, Rowan. He’s too strong. My wolf whimpered, his voice full of despair.
I stumbled, my legs aching, my vision blurry. My father’s shadow loomed over me, his red eyes burning with hatred.
This is it. This is how I die. Consumed by the same darkness that destroyed my father.
But just as I thought it was over, a blur of silver fur shot from the shadows. The silver wolf slammed into my father, and a howl of pain ripped from his throat. Blood welled up on his chest, staining his silver fur.
My heart pounded as the she-wolf, her eyes blazing with fury, circled my father. She was magnificent, powerful. Her scent, lavender, vanilla, and raw power, made my wolf tremble.
Who is that? My wolf whimpered, awed and confused. Her scent… it’s…
Then it hit me, a spark of hope igniting in the darkness.
It was Catrina.
But… it wasn’t Catrina. Not the sweet omega I knew. This wolf was wilder, stronger. Her silver fur shimmered, her eyes glowed with ancient power. Her movements were fluid, graceful, deadly.
It’s her, Rowan. But it’s also… Lyra. My wolf growled, understanding dawning in his voice. She’s back. And she’s here to fight.
“Lyra?” Damien’s voice echoed through the chamber, laced with shock and longing. “My love… is that you?”
The silver she-wolf ignored him. She focused on my father, her growl a low rumble. Even my Alpha wolf instinctively stepped back, his head bowing in respect.
“You corrupted him, Damien,” she said, her voice a low, powerful hum. “You twisted his soul. But you won’t control him anymore. I won’t let you.”
She lunged, a blur of silver fangs and claws. She was fast, strong, a match for my father’s magic-fueled power. I was mesmerized by her fury and grace.
She’s incredible! Powerful! She’s fighting for us! My wolf whimpered, his heart aching with a strange longing.
Lyra battled the puppet that wore my father’s face. Her silver fur flashed, and her amber eyes blazed with a fire that made even Damien tremble.
She’s going to win, Rowan. My wolf’s voice was a mix of hope and fear. She’s going to free him. And then… she’ll come for us.
The battle raged, a whirlwind of silver and shadow, of snarls and roars. But even amidst the chaos, I saw hope. I saw the power of love, a love that could transcend lifetimes, that even the darkest magic couldn’t destroy.
And I knew, deep in my heart, that she would win. She would free my father’s soul, reclaim her own destiny, and somehow… find her way back to me.