The Alpha's forbidden omega mate - Chapter 301: Chapter 301

Catrina POV:
“Ready?”
Rowan’s voice, low and steady, was a grounding presence in the swirling chaos of the spirit realm.
He held out his hand, a silent offering, a promise of a journey back to a world we’d both lost, a life we were both fighting to reclaim.
I took a deep breath, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a mix of fear and anticipation, of grief and a fragile hope.
“As I’ll ever be,” I replied, my voice a shaky whisper, my gaze meeting his, the amber depths of his eyes a reflection of the love we’d shared, the bond that had been tested, twisted, but not broken.
With a shared glance that spoke volumes of unspoken fears and shared dreams, we stepped through the shimmering portal, hand in hand.
The spirit realm’s whispers faded, replaced by the familiar scent of pine and damp earth, the sunlight a warm caress on my skin. We were back.
But it wasn’t the same. The Magnus pack territory felt… older.
The trees towered over us, their shadows deeper, the familiar pack scent fainter, almost… a memory.
Five years. Five years gone...
"It’s different,” I murmured, my voice barely audible above the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, the sounds of a world that had continued without us.
“Everything’s… changed.”
Rowan nodded, his gaze distant, his brow furrowed.
“Five years, Catrina. Five years is a long time.” He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture I’d never seen him make before.
“He missed so much.”
“Lucas,” I whispered, the name of our son a bittersweet ache in my chest.
A son I hadn't seen in so long a time, a son who wouldn’t remember me. “He’s grown up without me.”
“He’s a good boy, Catrina,” Rowan reassured me, his hand squeezing mine, his touch a comforting warmth.
“Maggie and Henri have taken good care of him. They’ve told him stories about you, shown him pictures. He knows who you are.”
“But he doesn’t remember me,” I said, my voice thick with unshed tears. He knows his mother is a story, a picture, a ghost.
Not the real, breathing woman standing before him.
“We’ll make him see,” Rowan said, his voice firm, his gaze meeting mine, a promise in his amber eyes.
“We’ll make him remember.”
A flicker of doubt shadowed his expression, a reminder of the challenges we faced, the darkness that still lingered. Damien...
The altered timeline. The memories that were mine alone to carry.
We walked in silence for a while, the forest floor soft beneath our paws, the sunlight dappling through the leaves, the familiar scent of the pack a faint whisper in the wind.
It felt strange, this world, this life, like a half-forgotten dream.
“What about the pack?” I asked, my voice hesitant.
“How will they react? To you… to me?”
The thought of facing them, explaining my absence, my transformation, the loss of my Silver Wolf powers – the price of his return – filled me with unease.
Rowan’s brow furrowed.
“I don’t know, Catrina,” he admitted. “Five years is a long time. Things have changed. I’ve changed. You’ve changed. We’ll adapt. Explain. Hope they understand.”
"And Isabelle?" I asked, the name a weight on my tongue.
His expression softened, a shadow of regret darkening his eyes. “I hurt her, Catrina. Made a promise I couldn't keep. I owe her an explanation. An apology.”
We continued walking, the silence punctuated by the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, the distant howls of other wolves.
The familiar sounds of the forest, of our world, were a welcome contrast to the spirit realm's eerie quiet.
“What about Derek?” My voice was barely a whisper, the name heavy with a premonition of darkness.
Rowan’s gaze turned distant, his jaw tightening.
“Korvash warned me. Damien’s using Derek. Turning him into a weapon.” He’s lost, I realized with a chilling certainty. Lost to the larva, to Damien's control.
“We have to stop him, Rowan,” I said, the words a fierce prayer, a desperate hope.
Even without the Silver Wolf's full power, I would fight. For Derek, for Rowan, for our pack, for our world.
“We will,” he vowed, his hand tightening around mine. “Together.”
As we approached the packhouse, the familiar scents of pine and woodsmoke were tainted, a metallic tang, a sickly sweetness clinging to the air. My stomach churned. Damien’s influence was here, a darkness lurking in the heart of our home.
The pack was gathered in the main hall, their faces etched with a mix of shock, disbelief, and fear.
Derek stood at the head of the room, his amber eyes vacant. Isabelle stood beside him, her usual fire dimmed, replaced with a deep, gnawing worry.
Their scents mingled with the pack's, creating a mix of confusion and fear.
And then, our scents – Rowan’s pine and leather, my lavender and vanilla – hit them, a wave that rippled through the room, silencing the whispers, widening eyes, and slackening jaws.
“Catrina?” Isabelle breathed, her voice barely audible, a mix of disbelief and something akin to wonder.
The elders, faces etched with suspicion, stepped forward, their voices a chorus of confused questions.
"How…how can this be?” Elder Thorne rasped, his voice laced with disbelief. “She was… dead.”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” Rowan admitted, his voice weary, but his gaze steady, “but she is here. And we have a problem.” His eyes flicked to Derek, hardening.
“Damien’s using Derek.”
The pack’s disbelief and fear exploded into a cacophony of shouts and accusations. Some turned on Isabelle, questioning her leadership, her judgment.
Others demanded answers from Rowan, their voices laced with anger and resentment. Elder Thorne challenged Rowan’s authority outright.
“You abandoned us, boy! Left us to fend for ourselves! You have no right to lead this pack!”
“It’s not his fault!” I shouted, my voice silencing the chaos. All eyes turned to me, their expressions shifting from anger and confusion to… shock.
I hadn’t realized until that moment how much I’d changed, how much the spirit realm, the merging with Lyra, had transformed me.
My voice, infused with ancient power, commanded their attention, demanded their respect.
“I… I don’t understand,” Isabelle whispered, her gaze fixed on me, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and fear. “Catrina? But… you were…”
“Gone?” I finished her sentence, my voice softer now, the weight of my own losses, my own sacrifices, settling on me like a heavy cloak.
“I was… lost, Isabelle. But… I’m back now. And we have to stop Damien. Before it’s too late.”
I looked at Derek, at the vacant coldness in his eyes, and my heart ached.
"He's not himself," I said, my voice thick with unshed tears. "We have to save him."
Rowan stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the pack, his Alpha presence, though weakened, reasserting itself.
“Damien’s plan is to merge with the spirit realm, to become a king. He’s using Derek to anchor his power, to weaken the veil between worlds.”
He paused, his gaze meeting each of theirs, his words a call to arms, a plea for unity. “We need to work together. Mondragon and Magnus, as one. We need to find a way to break Damien’s hold on Derek and banish him from this world. Forever.”
The pack was still hesitant, their fear battling with a flicker of hope. Then, I stepped forward, raising my hand, the silver light, though diminished, still pulsing beneath my skin, a reminder of the power I carried, the sacrifice I’d made.
“I’ve seen the spirit realm,” I said, my voice ringing with Lyra’s strength. “I’ve faced Damien. And I know… we can defeat him.”