The Alpha's forbidden omega mate - Chapter 223: Chapter 223
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Emma POV:
"Seriously, Emma, are you even listening?"
Ashley's voice, laced with exasperation, pulled me back from the half-remembered dreams.
I blinked, the brightly lit college cafeteria blurring for a moment before snapping back into focus, the smell of pizza and coffee and a hundred different conversations overwhelming my senses.
"Sorry, Ash," I mumbled, forcing a smile. "Just... a lot on my mind."
It was a lie, of course. It wasn't just 'a lot' – it was everything.
Ever since Rowan had broken up with me, I'd been a mess.
I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t focus on anything but the emptiness he’d left behind and the increasingly disturbing dreams that haunted my nights.
"It's Rowan, isn't it?" Ashley asked, her blue eyes filled with concern.
"He dumped me, Ash," I said, my voice cracking. The pain was still raw, a constant ache in my chest.
"He said we were over. That he wanted to focus on… other things."
He meant Catrina. A venomous voice whispered in my ear, a constant reminder of my humiliation, the way Rowan had chosen that quiet, mysterious girl over me.
"He's a jerk, Emma," Ashley said, her voice firm.
"You deserve better than that. You're beautiful, smart, funny… you'll find someone who appreciates you."
I managed a weak smile, but her words felt hollow. It wasn't just about finding someone else.
It was about the unsettling dreams, the flashes of memory, the feeling that something was terribly wrong, something dark and dangerous, something connected to Rowan, to Catrina…
"It’s not just that, Ash," I sighed, pushing my half-eaten salad around my plate.
"It’s… I keep having these weird dreams. Visions. Memories. I don’t know. It’s like… pieces of a puzzle, but they don’t fit."
"Dreams?" Ashley frowned. "Like what?"
I hesitated. How could I explain the silver she-wolf with blazing amber eyes, the shadowy figure, the feeling of overwhelming fear and a love so intense it ached even now?
It sounded crazy, even to me.
"I don’t know, Ash. Just... weird stuff. It doesn't make sense." I shrugged, trying to dismiss it, but the unease I felt wouldn't go away.
“Maybe you should talk to someone about it,” Ashley suggested.
“A therapist? A counselor? It might help to… process everything.”
“Maybe,” I mumbled, but I knew talking to a therapist wouldn’t help. They wouldn't understand. They wouldn't believe me.
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and I practically jumped out of my seat.
“I have to go, Ash,” I said, gathering my books. “I’ll see you later.”
I hurried out of the cafeteria, the noise and chatter fading behind me.
I needed to get away, to be alone, to try and make sense of the chaos in my head.
You’re obsessed, Emma. The voice of jealousy was a constant torment. He’s moved on. He’s with Catrina now. You need to forget about him.
But I couldn’t forget. The dreams wouldn't let me. And the more I tried to ignore them, the more vivid, the more disturbing, they became.
I found Brock in the library, hunched over a laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration.
He looked up as I sat down beside him, his blue eyes shadowed with a worry that mirrored my own.
“Hey, Emma,” he said, his voice quiet. "You look… stressed. You okay?"
“I’m… not really,” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
Brock had been there. He’d seen my heartbreak, my humiliation. And he’d been surprisingly kind, surprisingly… understanding.
“It’s… Rowan. And Catrina. And these dreams I keep having. It’s… it’s all connected, Brock. I know it is.”
“Dreams?” He frowned. “What dreams?”
“Weird ones. Scary ones. I see… wolves. And magic. And a… a baby.” I shivered, the memory of the dream sending a chill down my spine.
“It’s like… I’m remembering something that never happened. Like… a past life, or something.”
Brock looked at me, his eyes full of concern.
“Emma… are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should talk to someone about these dreams. A therapist?”
“It wouldn’t help, Brock,” I sighed, shaking my head.
“They wouldn’t understand. It’s… it’s more than just dreams. It’s… real. I know it is.”
“What’s real, Emma?” He sounded confused, worried.
He wanted to believe me, but I could tell he was struggling. It sounded crazy, even to me.
“I think… I think there’s a whole other world out there, Brock,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
“A world of… werewolves. And magic. And… and I think… I think Rowan’s a part of it. And Catrina, too.”
“Werewolves? Magic? Emma, come on…” Brock shook his head, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.
“You’re letting your imagination run wild. It’s just stress, I told you. You’re letting this whole breakup thing get to you.”
“No, Brock. It’s more than that. It’s real. I know it is.” I opened my laptop, my fingers flying across the keyboard, pulling up a website I’d found, a website dedicated to the supernatural, to the myths and legends that had always fascinated me.
“Look at this, Brock. Look at these stories, these legends. They’re not just… stories. They’re real. I know it.”
Brock peered at the screen, his brow furrowed, his blue eyes scanning the images, the text, a mix of disbelief and a growing unease.
“Emma, this is… this is crazy. Werewolves? Sorcerers? Magic? It’s… it’s just make-believe. Fairy tales.”
“No, Brock. It’s real. I can feel it.” I could feel the truth of it in my bones, in my blood, a primal instinct, a whisper from a past I couldn’t remember, a future I couldn’t escape.
“And… and I think Catrina’s in danger, Brock. Real danger. And we have to help her.”
“But… how?” Brock asked, his voice a whisper, his gaze meeting mine, a shared fear, a dawning realization of the truth, the knowledge that our world, the world we thought we knew, was… not what it seemed.
“How can we possibly… help her? We’re… we’re just… human.”
And then, I remembered the necklace.
The silver wolf pendant that Catrina had been wearing, a symbol, a clue, a link to the world that Rowan belonged to, a world that I was now being drawn into.
“The necklace, Brock,” I said, my voice gaining strength, a plan forming, a path unfolding, a glimmer of hope in the encroaching darkness.
“The silver pendant. The wolf’s head. I think… I think it’s the key.”
“The necklace?” Brock echoed, his brow furrowing, his human mind struggling to grasp the significance, the connection, the… magic.
“I think we need to find someone who understands this stuff, Brock,” I said, my voice a low rumble, a certainty settling in my gut.
“Someone who knows about magic. About… werewolves.”
“But… who? Where would we even…” He trailed off, his gaze searching mine, a mix of fear and a reluctant acceptance.
A recognition that the world, as we’d known it, had changed, that the boundaries were blurring, that the shadows were closing in.
“There’s… a shop, Brock,” I said, my voice gaining strength. “A New Age shop. Down on Main Street. The owner… she’s… different. People say she knows things. About… the unseen world. About… magic.”
“You think… Can she help us?” Brock asked, his voice a whisper, a prayer, a desperate plea for a solution, a way out of the darkness that was threatening to consume us.
“I don’t know, Brock,” I said, my gaze meeting his, a shared determination, a mutual understanding.
“But we have to try. For Catrina. For Rowan. For… us.”
And as we left the library, the warmth of the setting sun, a fleeting reminder of the human world, the life we were leaving behind.
"We have to find that necklace, Brock," I said, my voice a quiet but fierce determination. "It might be the only way."
"Seriously, Emma, are you even listening?"
Ashley's voice, laced with exasperation, pulled me back from the half-remembered dreams.
I blinked, the brightly lit college cafeteria blurring for a moment before snapping back into focus, the smell of pizza and coffee and a hundred different conversations overwhelming my senses.
"Sorry, Ash," I mumbled, forcing a smile. "Just... a lot on my mind."
It was a lie, of course. It wasn't just 'a lot' – it was everything.
Ever since Rowan had broken up with me, I'd been a mess.
I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t focus on anything but the emptiness he’d left behind and the increasingly disturbing dreams that haunted my nights.
"It's Rowan, isn't it?" Ashley asked, her blue eyes filled with concern.
"He dumped me, Ash," I said, my voice cracking. The pain was still raw, a constant ache in my chest.
"He said we were over. That he wanted to focus on… other things."
He meant Catrina. A venomous voice whispered in my ear, a constant reminder of my humiliation, the way Rowan had chosen that quiet, mysterious girl over me.
"He's a jerk, Emma," Ashley said, her voice firm.
"You deserve better than that. You're beautiful, smart, funny… you'll find someone who appreciates you."
I managed a weak smile, but her words felt hollow. It wasn't just about finding someone else.
It was about the unsettling dreams, the flashes of memory, the feeling that something was terribly wrong, something dark and dangerous, something connected to Rowan, to Catrina…
"It’s not just that, Ash," I sighed, pushing my half-eaten salad around my plate.
"It’s… I keep having these weird dreams. Visions. Memories. I don’t know. It’s like… pieces of a puzzle, but they don’t fit."
"Dreams?" Ashley frowned. "Like what?"
I hesitated. How could I explain the silver she-wolf with blazing amber eyes, the shadowy figure, the feeling of overwhelming fear and a love so intense it ached even now?
It sounded crazy, even to me.
"I don’t know, Ash. Just... weird stuff. It doesn't make sense." I shrugged, trying to dismiss it, but the unease I felt wouldn't go away.
“Maybe you should talk to someone about it,” Ashley suggested.
“A therapist? A counselor? It might help to… process everything.”
“Maybe,” I mumbled, but I knew talking to a therapist wouldn’t help. They wouldn't understand. They wouldn't believe me.
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and I practically jumped out of my seat.
“I have to go, Ash,” I said, gathering my books. “I’ll see you later.”
I hurried out of the cafeteria, the noise and chatter fading behind me.
I needed to get away, to be alone, to try and make sense of the chaos in my head.
You’re obsessed, Emma. The voice of jealousy was a constant torment. He’s moved on. He’s with Catrina now. You need to forget about him.
But I couldn’t forget. The dreams wouldn't let me. And the more I tried to ignore them, the more vivid, the more disturbing, they became.
I found Brock in the library, hunched over a laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration.
He looked up as I sat down beside him, his blue eyes shadowed with a worry that mirrored my own.
“Hey, Emma,” he said, his voice quiet. "You look… stressed. You okay?"
“I’m… not really,” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
Brock had been there. He’d seen my heartbreak, my humiliation. And he’d been surprisingly kind, surprisingly… understanding.
“It’s… Rowan. And Catrina. And these dreams I keep having. It’s… it’s all connected, Brock. I know it is.”
“Dreams?” He frowned. “What dreams?”
“Weird ones. Scary ones. I see… wolves. And magic. And a… a baby.” I shivered, the memory of the dream sending a chill down my spine.
“It’s like… I’m remembering something that never happened. Like… a past life, or something.”
Brock looked at me, his eyes full of concern.
“Emma… are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should talk to someone about these dreams. A therapist?”
“It wouldn’t help, Brock,” I sighed, shaking my head.
“They wouldn’t understand. It’s… it’s more than just dreams. It’s… real. I know it is.”
“What’s real, Emma?” He sounded confused, worried.
He wanted to believe me, but I could tell he was struggling. It sounded crazy, even to me.
“I think… I think there’s a whole other world out there, Brock,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
“A world of… werewolves. And magic. And… and I think… I think Rowan’s a part of it. And Catrina, too.”
“Werewolves? Magic? Emma, come on…” Brock shook his head, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.
“You’re letting your imagination run wild. It’s just stress, I told you. You’re letting this whole breakup thing get to you.”
“No, Brock. It’s more than that. It’s real. I know it is.” I opened my laptop, my fingers flying across the keyboard, pulling up a website I’d found, a website dedicated to the supernatural, to the myths and legends that had always fascinated me.
“Look at this, Brock. Look at these stories, these legends. They’re not just… stories. They’re real. I know it.”
Brock peered at the screen, his brow furrowed, his blue eyes scanning the images, the text, a mix of disbelief and a growing unease.
“Emma, this is… this is crazy. Werewolves? Sorcerers? Magic? It’s… it’s just make-believe. Fairy tales.”
“No, Brock. It’s real. I can feel it.” I could feel the truth of it in my bones, in my blood, a primal instinct, a whisper from a past I couldn’t remember, a future I couldn’t escape.
“And… and I think Catrina’s in danger, Brock. Real danger. And we have to help her.”
“But… how?” Brock asked, his voice a whisper, his gaze meeting mine, a shared fear, a dawning realization of the truth, the knowledge that our world, the world we thought we knew, was… not what it seemed.
“How can we possibly… help her? We’re… we’re just… human.”
And then, I remembered the necklace.
The silver wolf pendant that Catrina had been wearing, a symbol, a clue, a link to the world that Rowan belonged to, a world that I was now being drawn into.
“The necklace, Brock,” I said, my voice gaining strength, a plan forming, a path unfolding, a glimmer of hope in the encroaching darkness.
“The silver pendant. The wolf’s head. I think… I think it’s the key.”
“The necklace?” Brock echoed, his brow furrowing, his human mind struggling to grasp the significance, the connection, the… magic.
“I think we need to find someone who understands this stuff, Brock,” I said, my voice a low rumble, a certainty settling in my gut.
“Someone who knows about magic. About… werewolves.”
“But… who? Where would we even…” He trailed off, his gaze searching mine, a mix of fear and a reluctant acceptance.
A recognition that the world, as we’d known it, had changed, that the boundaries were blurring, that the shadows were closing in.
“There’s… a shop, Brock,” I said, my voice gaining strength. “A New Age shop. Down on Main Street. The owner… she’s… different. People say she knows things. About… the unseen world. About… magic.”
“You think… Can she help us?” Brock asked, his voice a whisper, a prayer, a desperate plea for a solution, a way out of the darkness that was threatening to consume us.
“I don’t know, Brock,” I said, my gaze meeting his, a shared determination, a mutual understanding.
“But we have to try. For Catrina. For Rowan. For… us.”
And as we left the library, the warmth of the setting sun, a fleeting reminder of the human world, the life we were leaving behind.
"We have to find that necklace, Brock," I said, my voice a quiet but fierce determination. "It might be the only way."
End of The Alpha's forbidden omega mate Chapter 223. Continue reading Chapter 224 or return to The Alpha's forbidden omega mate book page.