The Alpha's forbidden omega mate - Chapter 172: Chapter 172

Catrina POV:
“Catrina! Over here!”
Ashley’s bubbly voice cut through the noise of the crowded lecture hall.
I smiled and made my way over to her, dodging backpacks and shuffling feet.
My own backpack felt heavy, but it wasn’t filled with textbooks anymore.
I had art supplies, sketchbooks – a reminder of the new life I was trying to build.
“But can we really escape it, Catrina? Is it even possible?” My wolf grumbled, her voice a low rumble in my chest.
She was on edge, her senses overwhelmed by all the human smells and sounds.
“I snagged us seats in the front row,” Ashley chirped, her eyes sparkling. “Professor Davis is supposed to be amazing. He makes you really think about the books.”
I nodded and sat down next to her, the plastic chair creaking under me.
The lecture hall buzzed with whispers and the rustling of papers. It was a symphony of human anxieties, and it made my wolf restless.
“Too many humans. Too much noise. Too much chaos.” She growled, her claws wanting to dig into something, anything, to release the tension.
I glanced at the back row, and my heart skipped a beat.
Rowan was sitting there, slouched in his chair, his dark hair falling over his forehead.
His amber eyes, shadowed and intense, were fixed on the professor, but he looked bored, detached.
I knew it was a mask, though. I’d seen the depth of emotion hidden beneath that cool exterior.
We’d seen each other a few times on campus since orientation.
A nod in the cafeteria, a glance across the quad…
Just brief moments, but enough to acknowledge the connection.
The bond that he’d tried to deny, to erase.
“He’s trying to forget you, Catrina.“
My wolf’s voice was a low rumble, a mix of hope and bitterness.
“But he can’t. The mate bond is too strong.”
“Hey, Catrina. Fancy meeting you here.” A voice, a little too cheerful, a little too close, made me jump.
My wolf’s hackles rose, and her claws instinctively extended.
It was Brock.
He was leaning over the back of the chair in front of me, his arm draped casually, his gaze a little too intense.
I felt a wave of revulsion, a primal instinct to pull away.
“Don’t let him near you. “
My wolf snarled, remembering the night of the prom, the way I’d broken free from him, the taste of freedom, the pull towards… Rowan.
“Brock,” I said, my voice cool and distant. “What are you doing here?”
“Taking the same class, duh.”
He grinned, but his blue eyes seemed empty, lacking the depth and intensity I’d seen in Rowan’s.
“What a coincidence,” I said flatly, my eyes fixed on the professor, who was walking into the classroom.
His presence, so normal, so human, was a comfort in the midst of my wolfish turmoil.
“Yeah, crazy, right?” Brock chuckled.
He reached out to touch my arm, his fingers lingering, and I flinched. My wolf growled, a warning rumble.
“Listen, Catrina, about the other night… I…”
“Don’t, Brock,” I interrupted, my voice sharp.
I was surprised by my own firmness, my own strength. I wouldn’t let him get close, not again. Not after the way he’d betrayed me, not when my wolf was yearning for someone else.
“It’s over. We’re done. And I want you to… back off.”
He stared at me, his blue eyes, usually so carefree, now clouded with hurt and confusion.
He looked like a kicked puppy, and I almost felt sorry for him. Then, his eyes widened, and a flicker of fear crossed his face.
“Emma,” he mumbled, his hand dropping from my arm like he’d been burned.
I turned, my heart sinking. Emma was standing in the doorway, her blonde hair a halo of fury, her blue eyes narrowed.
She smelled of expensive perfume and possessiveness, and my wolf snarled, a challenge, a warning.
“She’s trouble, Catrina.” My wolf growled, her claws digging into my palms.
“What’s going on here, Brock?” Emma demanded, her voice sharp and commanding.
I instinctively took a step back, my omega nature betraying me. I hated that feeling of submission, but I couldn’t help it.
“Emma, I… I was just…” Brock stammered, his face pale, his scent laced with fear.
“Save it, Brock,” Emma said coldly, her gaze fixed on me, a challenge in her eyes. “We’ll talk later.”
“She’s dangerous, Catrina. Be careful.” My wolf growled.
“This is your life now, Catrina.” I told myself.
“A human life. A normal life. Forget about Rowan. Forget about… everything else.”
The class seemed to drag on forever. The professor droned on, but I couldn’t focus.
I was too aware of Rowan, sitting in the back row now, his gaze a weight on my back, his scent a constant reminder of the connection we’d shared, the bond he’d tried to break.
“He’s watching you, Catrina. I can feel his eyes on you.” My wolf growled, a mix of excitement and fear in her voice.
She was right. I could feel the intensity of his gaze, even without looking.
“He’s hurting, Catrina. Just like you.” My wolf whimpered, sensing his pain.
As soon as class ended, I hurried out, desperate to escape his gaze, his scent, the bond he’d broken.
But as I reached the library doors, a figure stepped out from the shadows.
His presence was a sudden chill, a wave of darkness that made my wolf snarl.
“He’s watching you,” the figure whispered, his voice a raspy growl.
His scent was a mix of decay and ancient magic, and it sent shivers down my spine.
“Be careful, Catrina Blanc. Your past… it’s catching up to you.”
And then he was gone, vanished into the shadows.
I stood there, trembling, my heart pounding, his words echoing in my mind.
“Who was that?” My wolf whimpered, fear making her voice shake. “What did he mean?”
I didn’t know. But I knew, with a chilling certainty, that it was a warning.
A glimpse into a world I didn’t understand, a world that was closing in on me.
I needed to think, to figure out what was happening, to understand these strange whispers.
What does it all mean?
I wandered through the stacks, my fingers trailing along the spines of the books, their titles a blur.
My wolf was restless, pacing inside me, her senses on high alert.
“He’s here, Catrina. I can feel him.” She growled, her voice low and urgent.
I stopped, my heart pounding.
I could feel him, too. Rowan.
His presence was a weight, a warmth, a pull that I couldn’t ignore.
I turned a corner, and there he was, sitting at a table by the window, a book open in front of him.
He looked up, his amber eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop.
The air crackled with tension, with a silent recognition that transcended words and the carefully constructed walls we’d both built around our hearts.
"Hey, Rowan," I said softly, my voice barely a whisper.
He looked at me, his expression unreadable.
“Catrina,” he acknowledged, his voice a low rumble. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
"We have… literature together," I reminded him, my gaze drawn to his hands, his long fingers tapping a restless rhythm against the book cover.
"Professor Davis assigned us… a project."
His gaze lifted, his amber eyes meeting mine, a flicker of… something… in their depths.
Regret? Longing? I couldn’t tell.
"Right," he said, his voice a little rough. "The… project."
He stood up, his tall frame towering over me, his scent, pine and leather and raw power, filling my senses, making my head spin.
“We should… get started,” he said, his gaze darting away.
“We… we have a lot of work to do.”
And as I followed him to a secluded corner of the library, the weight of his presence, the memory of his touch, the whisper of our broken bond, a heavy cloak on my shoulders.
I knew that this project, this forced collaboration, this encounter in the heart of the human college, was just the beginning.