The Alpha's forbidden omega mate - Chapter 274: Chapter 274
You are reading The Alpha's forbidden omega mate, Chapter 274: Chapter 274. Read more chapters of The Alpha's forbidden omega mate.
Rowan POV:
The scent of pine and damp earth, mingled with the cloying sweetness of lilies and the metallic tang of… grief, hung heavy in the air, a suffocating blanket that pressed down on me, a phantom sensation, a ghostly echo of a life I no longer possessed.
I watched from the sidelines, a silent observer, a spectral presence unseen, unheard, as they lowered the two caskets into the earth, the dark wood gleaming under the overcast sky, a stark contrast to the vibrant green of the forest floor, the vibrant hues of a world I could no longer touch, a life I could no longer live.
Two caskets.
Two lives lost.
Two gaping wounds in the heart of the Magnus pack.
My father.
And me.
It was a surreal, disorienting experience, watching my own funeral, seeing the grief etched on the faces of those I loved, hearing the whispers of their sorrow, the echoes of their loss, without being able to offer comfort, to whisper a reassurance, to tell them… I wasn't truly gone. Not completely.
It’s like a nightmare, Rowan.
My wolf’s voice, a low growl, echoed in my spectral mind, a mix of anger and a helpless frustration.
We’re trapped. Imprisoned. Unable to… to…
His words trailed off, mirroring my own inability to comprehend, to accept, the reality of my situation, the spectral existence I now inhabited, the world I could see, but couldn’t touch, the love I could feel, but couldn't express.
Catrina stood at the edge of the freshly dug graves, her small frame swallowed by an oversized black sweater, lifeless, a stark contrast to the vibrant, shimmering coat I remembered, the one that had blazed with Lyra’s power, the one that had defied Damien’s darkness.
Her amber eyes, once so full of fire, of life, of love, were now empty, hollow, reflecting the vast emptiness of the spirit realm, the place where I was now trapped, a prisoner of my own choices, my own sacrifices, my own… love.
She held a single white lily, its delicate petals trembling in the breeze, a fragile symbol of a love that had been lost, a future that had been denied.
A single tear, a perfect crystal reflecting the grey sky, traced a path down her cheek, a silent testament to a grief that mirrored my own, a pain that echoed across the boundaries of life and death.
I wanted to reach out to her, to touch her, to comfort her, to tell her… I wasn’t truly gone. That my love for her, a bond that transcended even death, still burned bright.
But I couldn’t. My spectral hand passed right through her, a reminder of the spectral prison I was trapped in, the life I no longer possessed, the love I couldn't reclaim.
She’s heartbroken, Rowan.
My wolf whimpered, his voice a mournful echo in my spectral mind.
She blames herself. She thinks… she thinks she failed you.
“It’s not your fault, Catrina,” I whispered, my voice a ghostly echo, lost in the wind, “I made the choice. I… I sacrificed myself. For you. For… our future.”
But my words, like my spectral touch, couldn't reach her, couldn’t penetrate the veil of grief that shrouded her, the darkness that Damien’s magic had left behind, a shadow that lingered, a threat that still loomed.
Derek stood beside her, his golden eyes mirroring her sadness, his scent, pine and leather, a comforting presence, a reminder of the pack bond, the family that remained, the love that had endured.
His hand rested on her back, a silent gesture of support, a brother’s love, a protector’s instinct.
He’d stepped up, Derek had, filling the void I’d left behind, taking on the mantle of Alpha, leading the Magnus pack with a strength and wisdom I hadn’t known he possessed.
He was a good Alpha, Derek. Better than I would have been.
A warmth, a pride I couldn’t express, filled my spectral heart, a bittersweet joy, a love for my brother that transcended even death.
He’s the Alpha now, Rowan. He’s… he’s taking care of her. Just like… you asked him to.
My wolf’s words, a reminder of the promise I’d extracted from Derek, a brother’s bond, a protector’s vow, brought a flicker of comfort, a sliver of peace in the midst of my spectral torment.
But it wasn’t enough.
I wanted to be there for Catrina, to hold her, to comfort her, to tell her… I wasn't gone.
Not completely. That my love for her, a bond that defied even death, still burned bright. But I couldn’t.
Uncle Jarrett stood beside Derek, his grey fur a stark reminder of the passage of time, the losses we’d endured, his amber eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored my own, a grief for a nephew he’d loved, a future Alpha he’d believed in.
He’d been a constant presence, Uncle Jarrett, a source of wisdom and guidance for Derek, for the pack, a steady hand in the turbulent waters of our changing world.
He spoke the eulogy, his voice a low rumble, his words a mix of grief and a quiet pride, a celebration of my life, of my father’s legacy, a reminder of the pack bond, the love that united us, the strength that would endure.
His words, though meant to comfort, twisted a knife in my spectral heart, a reminder of the life I no longer possessed, the future I’d been denied, the love I couldn’t reclaim.
I watched as they laid wreaths of white lilies and pine branches on the graves, the scents mingling, a bittersweet reminder of my love for Catrina, of my father’s connection to the pack, a fragrance that made my wolf whimper, his spectral form pacing restlessly, a ghostly echo of the Alpha he’d once been, the mate he’d lost, the son he’d never truly known.
The crowd began to disperse, their scents fading, their whispers of sorrow carried away by the wind.
Catrina lingered, her hand resting on the cold earth of my grave, her gaze fixed on the headstone that bore my name, my dates, a stark reminder of a life cut short, a destiny denied.
I knelt beside her, my spectral form a silent presence, wanting to touch her, to comfort her, but unable to bridge the gap that separated us, the boundary between life and death, the barrier that Damien’s magic, his darkness, had created.
She blames herself, Rowan.
My wolf’s voice was a mournful howl, a reflection of my own pain, my own guilt.
She thinks… she thinks she could have… saved you.
“It’s not your fault, Catrina,” I whispered again, my voice a ghostly echo, lost in the wind, a desperate plea, a silent reassurance, a love that couldn't reach her. “I made the choice. I sacrificed myself. For you. Please… believe me.”
But my words, like my touch, couldn't reach her, couldn't penetrate the veil of grief, the weight of her loss, the darkness that still lingered.
Derek gently took her hand, pulling her away from the grave, his touch a comfort, a reminder of the pack bond, the family that remained.
“Come on, Catrina,” he said softly, his voice full of a gentle concern, a brother’s love.
“It’s… it’s time to go.”
She resisted, her hand clinging to the cold earth, her gaze fixed on the headstone.
“I… I can’t, Derek,” she whispered, her voice broken, her amber eyes filled with a despair that mirrored my own.
“I… I can’t… leave him. Not… not again.”
“He’s not here, Catrina,” Derek said gently, his voice a soft rumble, a reminder of the truth she couldn’t accept, the loss we all had to bear.
“He’s… he’s gone, Cat. But his… his spirit… it’s… it’s still with us. In our hearts. In our memories. In the… the pack.”
“He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t want you… to stay here, Catrina. He’d… he’d want you to… to live. To… to be happy..”
His words, a reminder of the son I’d never know, the future I’d been denied, twisted a knife in my spectral heart, a pain so sharp, so profound, that it made my spectral form tremble, my ghostly wolf howl in anguish.
Catrina finally let Derek lead her away, her hand lingering on the headstone, her gaze fixed on my name, a silent farewell, a love that refused to die.
I watched them go, my spectral form a silent observer, a ghostly presence, unable to touch them, to comfort them, to tell them… I wasn’t truly gone.
Not yet.
I had a promise to keep.
A love to reclaim.
A destiny to rewrite.
I would find a way.
I had to.
For Catrina.
For… us.
As the last mourners left the clearing, as the shadows lengthened, as the scent of grief faded, replaced by the familiar smells of the forest, a new presence, a darkness I recognized, settled over me, a reminder of the threat that still lingered, the enemy I hadn’t truly defeated.
“You can’t hide from me, Rowan Magnus,” Damien’s voice, a venomous whisper, echoed in my mind, a mockery of the love I’d sacrificed, the destiny I’d tried to change.
“You may have escaped my grasp… for now. But your omega… your precious Catrina… she’s still… mine. And I will… have her… again.”
We have to fight, Rowan. My wolf growled, his voice a low rumble of defiance in the face of overwhelming odds, a primal instinct to protect, to avenge, to love.
We have to… escape. We have to… find her. Before… he does.
But even as my wolf’s words, a spark of hope in the encroaching darkness, echoed in my mind, I knew, with a chilling certainty, that this time… we might not… win.
“Catrina,” I whispered, my voice a ghostly echo, lost in the swirling vortex of Damien’s magic, a desperate plea, a silent promise, a love song that might never be heard, a destiny that might never be reclaimed.
“I’m… coming for you.”
The scent of pine and damp earth, mingled with the cloying sweetness of lilies and the metallic tang of… grief, hung heavy in the air, a suffocating blanket that pressed down on me, a phantom sensation, a ghostly echo of a life I no longer possessed.
I watched from the sidelines, a silent observer, a spectral presence unseen, unheard, as they lowered the two caskets into the earth, the dark wood gleaming under the overcast sky, a stark contrast to the vibrant green of the forest floor, the vibrant hues of a world I could no longer touch, a life I could no longer live.
Two caskets.
Two lives lost.
Two gaping wounds in the heart of the Magnus pack.
My father.
And me.
It was a surreal, disorienting experience, watching my own funeral, seeing the grief etched on the faces of those I loved, hearing the whispers of their sorrow, the echoes of their loss, without being able to offer comfort, to whisper a reassurance, to tell them… I wasn't truly gone. Not completely.
It’s like a nightmare, Rowan.
My wolf’s voice, a low growl, echoed in my spectral mind, a mix of anger and a helpless frustration.
We’re trapped. Imprisoned. Unable to… to…
His words trailed off, mirroring my own inability to comprehend, to accept, the reality of my situation, the spectral existence I now inhabited, the world I could see, but couldn’t touch, the love I could feel, but couldn't express.
Catrina stood at the edge of the freshly dug graves, her small frame swallowed by an oversized black sweater, lifeless, a stark contrast to the vibrant, shimmering coat I remembered, the one that had blazed with Lyra’s power, the one that had defied Damien’s darkness.
Her amber eyes, once so full of fire, of life, of love, were now empty, hollow, reflecting the vast emptiness of the spirit realm, the place where I was now trapped, a prisoner of my own choices, my own sacrifices, my own… love.
She held a single white lily, its delicate petals trembling in the breeze, a fragile symbol of a love that had been lost, a future that had been denied.
A single tear, a perfect crystal reflecting the grey sky, traced a path down her cheek, a silent testament to a grief that mirrored my own, a pain that echoed across the boundaries of life and death.
I wanted to reach out to her, to touch her, to comfort her, to tell her… I wasn’t truly gone. That my love for her, a bond that transcended even death, still burned bright.
But I couldn’t. My spectral hand passed right through her, a reminder of the spectral prison I was trapped in, the life I no longer possessed, the love I couldn't reclaim.
She’s heartbroken, Rowan.
My wolf whimpered, his voice a mournful echo in my spectral mind.
She blames herself. She thinks… she thinks she failed you.
“It’s not your fault, Catrina,” I whispered, my voice a ghostly echo, lost in the wind, “I made the choice. I… I sacrificed myself. For you. For… our future.”
But my words, like my spectral touch, couldn't reach her, couldn’t penetrate the veil of grief that shrouded her, the darkness that Damien’s magic had left behind, a shadow that lingered, a threat that still loomed.
Derek stood beside her, his golden eyes mirroring her sadness, his scent, pine and leather, a comforting presence, a reminder of the pack bond, the family that remained, the love that had endured.
His hand rested on her back, a silent gesture of support, a brother’s love, a protector’s instinct.
He’d stepped up, Derek had, filling the void I’d left behind, taking on the mantle of Alpha, leading the Magnus pack with a strength and wisdom I hadn’t known he possessed.
He was a good Alpha, Derek. Better than I would have been.
A warmth, a pride I couldn’t express, filled my spectral heart, a bittersweet joy, a love for my brother that transcended even death.
He’s the Alpha now, Rowan. He’s… he’s taking care of her. Just like… you asked him to.
My wolf’s words, a reminder of the promise I’d extracted from Derek, a brother’s bond, a protector’s vow, brought a flicker of comfort, a sliver of peace in the midst of my spectral torment.
But it wasn’t enough.
I wanted to be there for Catrina, to hold her, to comfort her, to tell her… I wasn't gone.
Not completely. That my love for her, a bond that defied even death, still burned bright. But I couldn’t.
Uncle Jarrett stood beside Derek, his grey fur a stark reminder of the passage of time, the losses we’d endured, his amber eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored my own, a grief for a nephew he’d loved, a future Alpha he’d believed in.
He’d been a constant presence, Uncle Jarrett, a source of wisdom and guidance for Derek, for the pack, a steady hand in the turbulent waters of our changing world.
He spoke the eulogy, his voice a low rumble, his words a mix of grief and a quiet pride, a celebration of my life, of my father’s legacy, a reminder of the pack bond, the love that united us, the strength that would endure.
His words, though meant to comfort, twisted a knife in my spectral heart, a reminder of the life I no longer possessed, the future I’d been denied, the love I couldn’t reclaim.
I watched as they laid wreaths of white lilies and pine branches on the graves, the scents mingling, a bittersweet reminder of my love for Catrina, of my father’s connection to the pack, a fragrance that made my wolf whimper, his spectral form pacing restlessly, a ghostly echo of the Alpha he’d once been, the mate he’d lost, the son he’d never truly known.
The crowd began to disperse, their scents fading, their whispers of sorrow carried away by the wind.
Catrina lingered, her hand resting on the cold earth of my grave, her gaze fixed on the headstone that bore my name, my dates, a stark reminder of a life cut short, a destiny denied.
I knelt beside her, my spectral form a silent presence, wanting to touch her, to comfort her, but unable to bridge the gap that separated us, the boundary between life and death, the barrier that Damien’s magic, his darkness, had created.
She blames herself, Rowan.
My wolf’s voice was a mournful howl, a reflection of my own pain, my own guilt.
She thinks… she thinks she could have… saved you.
“It’s not your fault, Catrina,” I whispered again, my voice a ghostly echo, lost in the wind, a desperate plea, a silent reassurance, a love that couldn't reach her. “I made the choice. I sacrificed myself. For you. Please… believe me.”
But my words, like my touch, couldn't reach her, couldn't penetrate the veil of grief, the weight of her loss, the darkness that still lingered.
Derek gently took her hand, pulling her away from the grave, his touch a comfort, a reminder of the pack bond, the family that remained.
“Come on, Catrina,” he said softly, his voice full of a gentle concern, a brother’s love.
“It’s… it’s time to go.”
She resisted, her hand clinging to the cold earth, her gaze fixed on the headstone.
“I… I can’t, Derek,” she whispered, her voice broken, her amber eyes filled with a despair that mirrored my own.
“I… I can’t… leave him. Not… not again.”
“He’s not here, Catrina,” Derek said gently, his voice a soft rumble, a reminder of the truth she couldn’t accept, the loss we all had to bear.
“He’s… he’s gone, Cat. But his… his spirit… it’s… it’s still with us. In our hearts. In our memories. In the… the pack.”
“He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t want you… to stay here, Catrina. He’d… he’d want you to… to live. To… to be happy..”
His words, a reminder of the son I’d never know, the future I’d been denied, twisted a knife in my spectral heart, a pain so sharp, so profound, that it made my spectral form tremble, my ghostly wolf howl in anguish.
Catrina finally let Derek lead her away, her hand lingering on the headstone, her gaze fixed on my name, a silent farewell, a love that refused to die.
I watched them go, my spectral form a silent observer, a ghostly presence, unable to touch them, to comfort them, to tell them… I wasn’t truly gone.
Not yet.
I had a promise to keep.
A love to reclaim.
A destiny to rewrite.
I would find a way.
I had to.
For Catrina.
For… us.
As the last mourners left the clearing, as the shadows lengthened, as the scent of grief faded, replaced by the familiar smells of the forest, a new presence, a darkness I recognized, settled over me, a reminder of the threat that still lingered, the enemy I hadn’t truly defeated.
“You can’t hide from me, Rowan Magnus,” Damien’s voice, a venomous whisper, echoed in my mind, a mockery of the love I’d sacrificed, the destiny I’d tried to change.
“You may have escaped my grasp… for now. But your omega… your precious Catrina… she’s still… mine. And I will… have her… again.”
We have to fight, Rowan. My wolf growled, his voice a low rumble of defiance in the face of overwhelming odds, a primal instinct to protect, to avenge, to love.
We have to… escape. We have to… find her. Before… he does.
But even as my wolf’s words, a spark of hope in the encroaching darkness, echoed in my mind, I knew, with a chilling certainty, that this time… we might not… win.
“Catrina,” I whispered, my voice a ghostly echo, lost in the swirling vortex of Damien’s magic, a desperate plea, a silent promise, a love song that might never be heard, a destiny that might never be reclaimed.
“I’m… coming for you.”
End of The Alpha's forbidden omega mate Chapter 274. Continue reading Chapter 275 or return to The Alpha's forbidden omega mate book page.