The Alpha's forbidden omega mate - Chapter 157: Chapter 157

Rowan POV:
“Rowan, why are you slowing down?”
Emma’s voice, sharp and whiny, pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced at her, my human girlfriend, the most popular girl.
Her blonde hair was perfect, her makeup flawless, and her perfume was expensive, but… it all felt fake, artificial. I felt a flicker of annoyance, a growing distance between us.
“She’s not her. She’s not… the one.” My wolf growled, a low rumble in my chest.
There was a yearning for a scent, a touch, a presence, that was missing. A ghost of a memory, a dream of a silver she-wolf with eyes like the moon, haunted me.
“It’s nothing, Emma,” I muttered, my gaze drawn back to the road.
There was a figure walking alone on the sidewalk, her slender frame lit by the streetlights. It was Catrina Blanc.
I knew she was a werewolf, the only other one in our school besides me and my pack. But we’d never really talked. But why do I care about her?
Why does seeing her alone make me want to protect her?
“It’s getting late, Rowan,” Emma said, her voice sharper now, a hint of jealousy in it. “We’re going to be late for the party. You promised me a dance, remember?”
She leaned closer, and her perfume made my head spin.
I wanted to pull away, to put some space between us, but I forced myself to stay still. I had to keep up appearances, play the role of the carefree rich guy, the popular jock who had it all.
“It’s all a lie, Rowan. You’re not happy. You’re not… whole.” My wolf growled, restless and unhappy.
I felt this emptiness inside me, and the shadows of a future I shouldn’t remember kept haunting me.
“Yeah, we’ll dance, Emma,” I said, but my voice sounded flat, even to me.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Catrina as she disappeared down a side street. My wolf wanted to follow her, to protect her, but…
“Protect her from what? What are you feeling, Rowan?”
I didn’t know. Not yet. But something told me she was important.
That she held a piece of the puzzle, a key to unlocking the memories that haunted me, the dreams that plagued my sleep.
I felt this strange sense of longing, of loss, ever since I’d woken up from that… vision?
Whatever it was that had changed everything, and yet… nothing at all.
“Rowan! Are you even listening?” Emma huffed, annoyed.
“I said, I’m wearing the red dress tonight. The one you like. The one that shows off… you know…”
She giggled, a high-pitched, fake sound that made me cringe. Emma was supposed to be the perfect girlfriend – pretty, popular, clueless.
She had no idea about my real world, the world of werewolves and pack politics and ancient magic.
Dating her had been easy, a way to blend in.
But now… I was about to graduate. The Alpha ceremony was coming soon. And the thought of pretending, of keeping up this act with Emma, made me feel suffocated.
I needed to break free, to find my own path, a path that wasn’t just about power and dominance.
We arrived at the party, the music pounding, the air thick with the scent of sweat and beer.
It was the usual crowd – the popular kids, the jocks, the cheerleaders, all trying to fit in, to climb the social ladder.
Even if they were human, It reminded me of the pack, of the constant struggle for power, the hierarchy that said Alphas ruled and omegas obeyed.
“Come on, Rowan, let’s dance!” Emma whined, tugging at my arm.
Her perfume was strong, cloying, and it made my stomach churn. “You promised, remember?”
“I’m… not really in the mood, Emma,” I said, my voice flat.
I scanned the crowd, feeling restless, wanting to escape the noise, the lights, the fake smiles.
“What do you mean, you’re not in the mood?” Emma’s voice rose, her blue eyes narrowed.
She was angry, her perfect facade cracking. “You promised, Rowan! Everyone’s watching! What will they think?”
“What will they think, Emma?” I asked, my voice sharper than I meant it to be.
My patience was wearing thin. I needed to get out of here. “That I’m not your puppet? That I make my own decisions? That I’m… my own person?”
Her mouth fell open, and the hurt in her eyes was obvious.
“You’re being… mean, Rowan,” she whispered, her hand reaching out to touch my arm.
I pulled away. Her touch made my skin crawl. It was a primal instinct, a rejection that came from deep inside my wolf.
“I… I don’t understand. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Emma,” I lied, tired of the whole charade. “I just need some air. I’ll be back later.”
Before she could say anything else, I turned and walked away.
The music faded behind me, and her perfume, a reminder of the life I was leaving behind, lingered in the air.
“Where are we going, Rowan?” My wolf growled, confused but excited.
His senses were alert, his instincts pulling him somewhere.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
My heart was pounding, my wolf was stirring, and a faint memory, a scent of lavender and vanilla, a flash of silver fur, tugged at me. “But… I think I’m going to find her.”
I walked out of the party, the cool night air a relief.
I got into my truck and started the engine, the powerful rumble a familiar comfort. I didn’t have a destination in mind, but I knew I couldn’t stay at the party, not with Emma, not with all those fake smiles and empty conversations.
“Follow the scent, Rowan.” My wolf urged.
I drove aimlessly for a while, the city lights blurring past. Then, I saw her. Catrina.
She was walking alone on a quiet street, her head down, her shoulders slumped.
“She looks sad.” My wolf whimpered, a pang of sympathy echoing in my chest.
I pulled over, my heart pounding. I didn’t know why, but I had to talk to her.
“Hey, Catrina,” I called out, my voice a little rough.
She stopped and turned, her eyes wide with surprise. “Rowan?”
“What are you doing out here all alone?” I asked, getting out of the truck. “It’s late. It’s not safe.”
“I… I just needed some air,” she said, her voice quiet. “I had a fight with Brock.”
“Brock?” I frowned. “Your boyfriend?”
She nodded, a shadow crossing her face.
“She’s hurting.” My wolf growled, his protectiveness flaring. “Protect her, Rowan.”
I hesitated, unsure what to say, what to do. I barely knew her, but I felt this strange pull towards her, a need to comfort her, to shield her from whatever pain she was carrying.
“Do you… want to talk about it?” I asked, my voice gentler than I intended.
She looked at me, her eyes searching mine, a flicker of… something… in their depths.
It was a look that made my heart ache, a look that whispered of a connection I couldn’t explain, a bond that defied the shattered fragments of my memory.
“I… I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“I don’t even know what’s wrong. It’s like… there’s a part of me that’s… missing. A part of my life that’s… gone. And I can’t remember it. I can’t… find it.”
Her words struck a chord within me, a resonance of the emptiness that haunted my own soul, the shadows of a destiny I couldn’t escape.
She feels it, too. The connection. The… fate that binds us together.
“Maybe… maybe it’s better if you don’t remember,” I said, my voice a low rumble-
A warning and a promise, the weight of a heavy burden on my soul.
“Sometimes… the past is better left… forgotten.”