The Alpha's forbidden omega mate - Chapter 319: Chapter 319
You are reading The Alpha's forbidden omega mate, Chapter 319: Chapter 319. Read more chapters of The Alpha's forbidden omega mate.
Catrina POV:
Isabelle finally looked up at me and Rowan.
“You two are back,” she said softly, her voice laced with a bittersweet longing. “My presence is no longer needed here, indeed.”
She paused, her gaze lingering on me, on Rowan, a reminder of the sacrifice we’d made, the destiny we were still trying to understand.
“But… Isabelle, you’re… you’re part of this pack,” I said, my voice a mix of disbelief and a desperate plea, my hand reaching for hers.
“You’re… you’re family.”
Isabelle scoffed, her gaze shifting away from mine, her eyes hardening.
“Not now that I’m divorced,” she said, her voice cold, flat, a deliberate rejection of the connection we’d shared.
“We broke our agreement with the Alpha King, Rowan,” she continued, her gaze fixed on him, a reminder of the political alliances, the pack responsibilities, the duties that bound us, the expectations that had been shattered, the path that had been altered.
“And… someone… has to… pay the price. I didn’t have… any pup, so I now have to give my place as the Alpha of Mondragon to someone how would.”
Her words were laced with a self-deprecating tone, a pain I knew she tried to hide, but still showed.
My heart ached for her, the responsibility she carried, the loneliness she was facing, the burden of leadership, the weight of expectation, the knowledge that even as she broke free, she was being forced to sacrifice everything she had built, the very essence of her alpha spirit.
A heavy silence descended upon the room, the weight of her words, the implications of her decision, a burden that settled on us all.
“Isabelle, please, don’t…” I started, my voice a whisper, my gaze pleading with her to reconsider, to see the love, the hope, the future we could still build, together.
But she cut me off, her gaze shifting back to me, her eyes filled with a quiet resolve, her scent a mix of sadness and a steel-like determination, a reminder of the Alpha she was, the choices she had made, the path she had chosen.
“No, Rowan,” she said, her voice firm, unwavering, a finality that couldn’t be ignored.
“ I don’t need your pity. And I don’t need your protection. I’ve made my choice. And I’m at peace with it.”
She forced a smile, a bittersweet expression that made my heart ache. “ I just wish both of you good luck. With everything. With what’s coming.”
And as she turned and walked away, her scent a fading echo, a bittersweet memory, a reminder of a love that was forbidden, a bond that had been broken. And that this time… we would face it… alone.
“Isabelle, wait!”
My voice, a desperate cry, a mix of guilt and a fierce protectiveness, echoed through the hall, but she didn't stop, didn't even slow down.
She was a wolf on a mission, a leader resolute, her decision made.
I watched her disappear around a corner, her scent lingering in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what we’d almost had, the future we’d almost shared, the love that had been… transformed.
“I need to talk to her,” I said to Rowan, my voice strained, my heart heavy.
He placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch a reminder a silent understanding passing between us.
“Go,” he said, his voice a low rumble, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and a quiet strength.
“I’ll… I’ll be here. And I’ll… I’ll take care of things. Here.”
I nodded, a silent acceptance whatever it held, with a fierce determination to protect the pack, to save my family, to reclaim our destiny.
I hurried down the hallway, following the scent of lavender and a lingering trace of something else – something… bitter? Resigned?
A feeling that made my wolf whimper with worry and empathy. It was a reminder of the strength Isabelle possessed and the cost she'd paid to be that strong.
I found her in the library, the place she always went to find peace, to escape the chaos of pack life, the burden of leadership, the responsibility she carried.
She sat by the window, sunlight streaming in, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air, the scent of old paper and leather a familiar comfort.
She was surrounded by books, their spines bearing ancient titles, their pages whispering of forgotten lore, of magic and power, of the history of our kind.
She looked up as I approached, her eyes meeting mine, her expression a mix of sadness and a quiet resolve, a knowing that transcended the boundaries of our roles, the expectations of pack and tradition, a silent conversation passing between us.
“I know why you’re here, Catrina.” She spoke softly, her voice devoid of the usual Alpha command, the steely strength she so often projected to the world.
“You don't have to say it.” Her hands, usually so confident, were still, her gaze fixed on the book in her lap.
I sat down across from her, the scent of lavender a bittersweet comfort.
"Isabelle," I began, choosing my words carefully, not wanting to cause more pain. "I don’t want you to… to think…”
“That I'm being foolish?” she asked, her gaze meeting mine, a sardonic smile touching her lips, a self-aware humor that made my heart ache.
“That I’m making a mistake? That I should just accept my role, my duty, my… destiny?”
She paused, closing the book, her hand resting on its worn leather cover, her words echoing my own thoughts, my own doubts, my own questions about the sacrifices I’d made, the choices I’d embraced, the love I was fighting for.
“You’re not a mistake, Isabelle,” I said, my voice firm, unwavering.
“And your choices… they’re… they’re your own. And you have the right to make them. To define… your own destiny.”
Her gaze softened, a flicker of understanding, of gratitude, in her eyes, a reminder of the bond we’d forged, the mutual respect we’d earned.
“Thank you, Catrina,” she whispered, her voice a soft murmur, her words a balm to my wounded soul. “You… you always… knew the right thing to say. Even when I didn’t want to… hear it.”
She sighed, her gaze dropping to the book in her lap, the unspoken emotions, the unspoken pain, a weight that hung between us.
“ I can’t live a life that isn’t mine,” she said, her voice a shaky whisper, a confession of her own doubts, her own fears, her own longings. “I can’t be someone I’m not. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t truly see me.”
“He’ll be okay, Isabelle,” I said, my voice gentle. A hope that she'd find a happy ending, she deserved that.
“He has Lucas. He’ll be a good father. A strong Alpha.”
“I know, Catrina,” she said, her voice a soft rumble, a mix of respect and a genuine fondness.
“And you… you’ll be a good Luna. You always were… for him.”
She looked at me then, her eyes searching mine, a silent question, a shared understanding of the path we'd both chosen, the sacrifices we were both making.
“He’ll need you, Catrina,” she said, her voice a firm command, a reminder of the responsibilities we both carried, the roles we’d both embraced.
“And… and so will the pack. You… you can’t let them down. You have… a destiny to fulfill.”
I nodded, my gaze fixed on hers, a promise of unwavering loyalty, a dedication to our pack, our family, our world.
“I won’t, Isabelle,” I said, my voice gaining strength, a new resolve replacing the doubt, the fear, the loneliness. “I’ll be the Luna they need. I’ll honor his memory. And I’ll protect them. Always.”
And as we stood there, the silence was heavy with unspoken emotions, the future a mystery, a challenge.
I knew that even though our paths had diverged, even though our destinies were separate, our bond, our friendship, our love for the pack, for the world, for the wolves who had entrusted us with their futures, would endure.
She finally reached up to meet my gaze.
"Just...promise me something, Catrina," she said, her voice softer now, more vulnerable. "Promise me you'll be happy. That... you'll find your peace."
Her request, a shared wish, a hope for a future where love would conquer loss, a balm to my wounded heart.
"I will, Isabelle"
Isabelle finally looked up at me and Rowan.
“You two are back,” she said softly, her voice laced with a bittersweet longing. “My presence is no longer needed here, indeed.”
She paused, her gaze lingering on me, on Rowan, a reminder of the sacrifice we’d made, the destiny we were still trying to understand.
“But… Isabelle, you’re… you’re part of this pack,” I said, my voice a mix of disbelief and a desperate plea, my hand reaching for hers.
“You’re… you’re family.”
Isabelle scoffed, her gaze shifting away from mine, her eyes hardening.
“Not now that I’m divorced,” she said, her voice cold, flat, a deliberate rejection of the connection we’d shared.
“We broke our agreement with the Alpha King, Rowan,” she continued, her gaze fixed on him, a reminder of the political alliances, the pack responsibilities, the duties that bound us, the expectations that had been shattered, the path that had been altered.
“And… someone… has to… pay the price. I didn’t have… any pup, so I now have to give my place as the Alpha of Mondragon to someone how would.”
Her words were laced with a self-deprecating tone, a pain I knew she tried to hide, but still showed.
My heart ached for her, the responsibility she carried, the loneliness she was facing, the burden of leadership, the weight of expectation, the knowledge that even as she broke free, she was being forced to sacrifice everything she had built, the very essence of her alpha spirit.
A heavy silence descended upon the room, the weight of her words, the implications of her decision, a burden that settled on us all.
“Isabelle, please, don’t…” I started, my voice a whisper, my gaze pleading with her to reconsider, to see the love, the hope, the future we could still build, together.
But she cut me off, her gaze shifting back to me, her eyes filled with a quiet resolve, her scent a mix of sadness and a steel-like determination, a reminder of the Alpha she was, the choices she had made, the path she had chosen.
“No, Rowan,” she said, her voice firm, unwavering, a finality that couldn’t be ignored.
“ I don’t need your pity. And I don’t need your protection. I’ve made my choice. And I’m at peace with it.”
She forced a smile, a bittersweet expression that made my heart ache. “ I just wish both of you good luck. With everything. With what’s coming.”
And as she turned and walked away, her scent a fading echo, a bittersweet memory, a reminder of a love that was forbidden, a bond that had been broken. And that this time… we would face it… alone.
“Isabelle, wait!”
My voice, a desperate cry, a mix of guilt and a fierce protectiveness, echoed through the hall, but she didn't stop, didn't even slow down.
She was a wolf on a mission, a leader resolute, her decision made.
I watched her disappear around a corner, her scent lingering in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what we’d almost had, the future we’d almost shared, the love that had been… transformed.
“I need to talk to her,” I said to Rowan, my voice strained, my heart heavy.
He placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch a reminder a silent understanding passing between us.
“Go,” he said, his voice a low rumble, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and a quiet strength.
“I’ll… I’ll be here. And I’ll… I’ll take care of things. Here.”
I nodded, a silent acceptance whatever it held, with a fierce determination to protect the pack, to save my family, to reclaim our destiny.
I hurried down the hallway, following the scent of lavender and a lingering trace of something else – something… bitter? Resigned?
A feeling that made my wolf whimper with worry and empathy. It was a reminder of the strength Isabelle possessed and the cost she'd paid to be that strong.
I found her in the library, the place she always went to find peace, to escape the chaos of pack life, the burden of leadership, the responsibility she carried.
She sat by the window, sunlight streaming in, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air, the scent of old paper and leather a familiar comfort.
She was surrounded by books, their spines bearing ancient titles, their pages whispering of forgotten lore, of magic and power, of the history of our kind.
She looked up as I approached, her eyes meeting mine, her expression a mix of sadness and a quiet resolve, a knowing that transcended the boundaries of our roles, the expectations of pack and tradition, a silent conversation passing between us.
“I know why you’re here, Catrina.” She spoke softly, her voice devoid of the usual Alpha command, the steely strength she so often projected to the world.
“You don't have to say it.” Her hands, usually so confident, were still, her gaze fixed on the book in her lap.
I sat down across from her, the scent of lavender a bittersweet comfort.
"Isabelle," I began, choosing my words carefully, not wanting to cause more pain. "I don’t want you to… to think…”
“That I'm being foolish?” she asked, her gaze meeting mine, a sardonic smile touching her lips, a self-aware humor that made my heart ache.
“That I’m making a mistake? That I should just accept my role, my duty, my… destiny?”
She paused, closing the book, her hand resting on its worn leather cover, her words echoing my own thoughts, my own doubts, my own questions about the sacrifices I’d made, the choices I’d embraced, the love I was fighting for.
“You’re not a mistake, Isabelle,” I said, my voice firm, unwavering.
“And your choices… they’re… they’re your own. And you have the right to make them. To define… your own destiny.”
Her gaze softened, a flicker of understanding, of gratitude, in her eyes, a reminder of the bond we’d forged, the mutual respect we’d earned.
“Thank you, Catrina,” she whispered, her voice a soft murmur, her words a balm to my wounded soul. “You… you always… knew the right thing to say. Even when I didn’t want to… hear it.”
She sighed, her gaze dropping to the book in her lap, the unspoken emotions, the unspoken pain, a weight that hung between us.
“ I can’t live a life that isn’t mine,” she said, her voice a shaky whisper, a confession of her own doubts, her own fears, her own longings. “I can’t be someone I’m not. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t truly see me.”
“He’ll be okay, Isabelle,” I said, my voice gentle. A hope that she'd find a happy ending, she deserved that.
“He has Lucas. He’ll be a good father. A strong Alpha.”
“I know, Catrina,” she said, her voice a soft rumble, a mix of respect and a genuine fondness.
“And you… you’ll be a good Luna. You always were… for him.”
She looked at me then, her eyes searching mine, a silent question, a shared understanding of the path we'd both chosen, the sacrifices we were both making.
“He’ll need you, Catrina,” she said, her voice a firm command, a reminder of the responsibilities we both carried, the roles we’d both embraced.
“And… and so will the pack. You… you can’t let them down. You have… a destiny to fulfill.”
I nodded, my gaze fixed on hers, a promise of unwavering loyalty, a dedication to our pack, our family, our world.
“I won’t, Isabelle,” I said, my voice gaining strength, a new resolve replacing the doubt, the fear, the loneliness. “I’ll be the Luna they need. I’ll honor his memory. And I’ll protect them. Always.”
And as we stood there, the silence was heavy with unspoken emotions, the future a mystery, a challenge.
I knew that even though our paths had diverged, even though our destinies were separate, our bond, our friendship, our love for the pack, for the world, for the wolves who had entrusted us with their futures, would endure.
She finally reached up to meet my gaze.
"Just...promise me something, Catrina," she said, her voice softer now, more vulnerable. "Promise me you'll be happy. That... you'll find your peace."
Her request, a shared wish, a hope for a future where love would conquer loss, a balm to my wounded heart.
"I will, Isabelle"
End of The Alpha's forbidden omega mate Chapter 319. Continue reading Chapter 320 or return to The Alpha's forbidden omega mate book page.