The Alpha's forbidden omega mate - Chapter 322: Chapter 322
You are reading The Alpha's forbidden omega mate, Chapter 322: Chapter 322. Read more chapters of The Alpha's forbidden omega mate.
Catrina POV:
“Catrina is enough. You don’t have your powers anymore. I should be the one taking care of the pack.”
Rowan’s words, spoken with a quiet conviction, a protective instinct that had always been a part of him, echoed in the small kitchen.
The warmth of his amber eyes, usually a source of comfort, now felt like a cage.
My jaw clenched, my wolf snarling deep within, a primal surge of defiance rising to challenge the gentle, loving hands that had once held me so securely.
I was not broken, not diminished.
The Silver Wolf, the Lyra’s strength, might have receded, but Catrina Blanc remained. And I was more than enough.
“I’m not some fragile omega that needs protecting, Rowan,” I said, my voice a low growl, the words laced with a frustration I couldn’t entirely contain.
I stepped away from him, the need to create space, to breathe, to escape his well-meaning, yet suffocating concern.
He reached for me, but I evaded his touch, the longing I felt battling with a rising anger.
“I’m the Luna of this pack, and I will do my duty.”
“It’s not about your duty, Catrina,” he said, his voice a soft rumble, his amber eyes searching mine, a plea for understanding.
“It’s about you. About… your safety. About… the pup.”
He hesitated, his gaze shifting towards my belly, a protective gesture that made my heart ache with a mix of love and resentment.
“I’m not weak, Rowan,” I said, my voice rising, the carefully constructed calm I’d tried to maintain crumbling.
“And I don’t need your… protection. I can… take care of myself. And I can take care of… Lucas. And I can… take care of… the pack.”
I looked at him, his face a mixture of hurt and confusion, his scent a mix of pine and leather and a stubborn protectiveness that made my wolf bristle.
“You were meant to be an Alpha, Rowan,” I said, my voice softer now, the anger giving way to a mix of longing and a painful acceptance.
“That was your destiny, your birthright. But… I’m… I’m not meant to be a Luna. you have to understand that i have to do things on my own.”
The words echoed in the silence of the small kitchen, a rejection of the limited roles they’d assigned to us, a promise of a future where strength was not determined by anything other than… choice.
I turned and walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts, his fears, his love, the burden of his responsibility.
I needed air, space, a chance to breathe, to calm the storm that's raging within me.
The scent of lavender and jasmine, a calming, familiar presence, drew me towards the packhouse library.
I found my mom there, the rhythmic click of her knitting needles a comforting counterpoint to the silence of the room. She looked up as I entered, her lavender eyes filled with a quiet concern, a mother's understanding.
“What’s wrong, Catrina?” she asked gently, her voice a soft murmur, her scent a balm to my wounded soul.
I sat beside her on the plush chaise lounge, the worn leather soft beneath my hands, the familiar scent of old books and aged paper, a welcome distraction from the lingering scent of Rowan’s dominance and the weight of my own responsibilities.
“I’m… I’m just… frustrated, Mom,” I whispered, my voice a broken sigh, a confession of my doubts, my fears, my loneliness.
“Rowan… he’s… he’s trying to… protect me. He thinks that… that is because I’ve lost my powers… I’m… I’m… vulnerable. That I need him to… to make all the decisions, to lead the pack, to… to control… everything.”
“He loves you, Catrina,” Mom said, her voice a gentle caress, her hands never faltering as her needles clicked rhythmically, a soothing melody in the silence of the library.
She understood, she had lived through this same fight for agency, for survival.
“He’s… just trying… to keep you… safe.”
"Safe?" I scoffed, a harsh, bitter sound.
“I don’t need to be kept safe, Mom. I’m not some fragile human. I’m a she-wolf. I’m the Luna of this pack. And I have a responsibility to… to lead. To protect. And to fight for what’s… right.”
“I know, Catrina,” she said, her voice soft, understanding, her gaze meeting mine, her eyes filled with a mother's pride. “And I know… that you will. But… you also have to allow others… to help you. To support you. To… to love you.”
She paused, her hand reaching out to touch mine, her touch a silent reassurance, a reminder of the family I possessed.
“You… you’re not alone, Catrina,” she said, her voice a soft murmur, her words a truth that I couldn’t deny, I wasn’t weak.
“You have… Rowan. You have… Lucas. And you have… Your dad and me.” Her gaze softened, and a hint of humor sparked in her lavender eyes. “Even if we’re… not always… good at… staying out of your business.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, a soft, genuine sound, a release of the tension, a reminder that even in the face of darkness, love and laughter and family could still find a way to prevail.
“I know,” I said, squeezing her hand, her touch grounding me, calming the storm inside.
I looked up at the towering bookshelves, the scent of old paper and forgotten stories filling my senses, a reminder of the knowledge I carried within, the strength I’d found in the past, the destiny I was fighting to reclaim.
“And that’s… why I’m so… angry, Mom.” My voice became a low growl, raw with a grief that was both old and new.
“Because I’m not weak. And I’m not powerless. And yet… I can’t… can’t shake this… this feeling that I’m not… enough. That Lyra’s power… it was… what made me… worthy. And that without it… I’m… I’m just… an omega. Just… just… Catrina.”
My voice trailed off, a confession of my deepest fears, my unspoken insecurities, a vulnerability that made my wolf whimper, the destiny I’d been denied.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Maggie's voice, a soft caress, brought my gaze back to her.
She reached out, her hands gently cupping my face, her thumbs stroking my cheeks, her eyes filled with a mother’s love.
“You are so much more than you think, Catrina. You’re more than an omega, more than Lyra, and more than whatever destiny Korvash has given you. You’re Catrina. And you’re amazing.”
My breath hitched, her words, a balm to my wounded soul, a reminder of the love I’d carried for myself.
For the woman I’d become.
“The power of Lyra… it’s not… what defined you, sweetheart,” she continued, her voice a gentle murmur, her fingers tracing the silver strands that had appeared in my hair, a testament to the time I’d spent in the spirit realm, the power I’d wielded.
“It was… just… a tool. A weapon. But… your strength, Catrina… that comes from… within. From your love. Your compassion. Your… courage.”
She squeezed my hand, her gaze meeting mine, her eyes full of strength, a power that made my heart soar, a recognition of the true Luna, the she-wolf, that I had always been, the warrior I had become.
“You don’t need Lyra’s power, Catrina,” she said softly. “You are already… enough.”
And as I sat there, surrounded by the familiar comfort of the packhouse library, the scent of old paper and leather, the echoes of ancient stories, the warmth of my mother’s love, I knew that I didn’t need Lyra’s power.
I had all I needed within me.
“Catrina is enough. You don’t have your powers anymore. I should be the one taking care of the pack.”
Rowan’s words, spoken with a quiet conviction, a protective instinct that had always been a part of him, echoed in the small kitchen.
The warmth of his amber eyes, usually a source of comfort, now felt like a cage.
My jaw clenched, my wolf snarling deep within, a primal surge of defiance rising to challenge the gentle, loving hands that had once held me so securely.
I was not broken, not diminished.
The Silver Wolf, the Lyra’s strength, might have receded, but Catrina Blanc remained. And I was more than enough.
“I’m not some fragile omega that needs protecting, Rowan,” I said, my voice a low growl, the words laced with a frustration I couldn’t entirely contain.
I stepped away from him, the need to create space, to breathe, to escape his well-meaning, yet suffocating concern.
He reached for me, but I evaded his touch, the longing I felt battling with a rising anger.
“I’m the Luna of this pack, and I will do my duty.”
“It’s not about your duty, Catrina,” he said, his voice a soft rumble, his amber eyes searching mine, a plea for understanding.
“It’s about you. About… your safety. About… the pup.”
He hesitated, his gaze shifting towards my belly, a protective gesture that made my heart ache with a mix of love and resentment.
“I’m not weak, Rowan,” I said, my voice rising, the carefully constructed calm I’d tried to maintain crumbling.
“And I don’t need your… protection. I can… take care of myself. And I can take care of… Lucas. And I can… take care of… the pack.”
I looked at him, his face a mixture of hurt and confusion, his scent a mix of pine and leather and a stubborn protectiveness that made my wolf bristle.
“You were meant to be an Alpha, Rowan,” I said, my voice softer now, the anger giving way to a mix of longing and a painful acceptance.
“That was your destiny, your birthright. But… I’m… I’m not meant to be a Luna. you have to understand that i have to do things on my own.”
The words echoed in the silence of the small kitchen, a rejection of the limited roles they’d assigned to us, a promise of a future where strength was not determined by anything other than… choice.
I turned and walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts, his fears, his love, the burden of his responsibility.
I needed air, space, a chance to breathe, to calm the storm that's raging within me.
The scent of lavender and jasmine, a calming, familiar presence, drew me towards the packhouse library.
I found my mom there, the rhythmic click of her knitting needles a comforting counterpoint to the silence of the room. She looked up as I entered, her lavender eyes filled with a quiet concern, a mother's understanding.
“What’s wrong, Catrina?” she asked gently, her voice a soft murmur, her scent a balm to my wounded soul.
I sat beside her on the plush chaise lounge, the worn leather soft beneath my hands, the familiar scent of old books and aged paper, a welcome distraction from the lingering scent of Rowan’s dominance and the weight of my own responsibilities.
“I’m… I’m just… frustrated, Mom,” I whispered, my voice a broken sigh, a confession of my doubts, my fears, my loneliness.
“Rowan… he’s… he’s trying to… protect me. He thinks that… that is because I’ve lost my powers… I’m… I’m… vulnerable. That I need him to… to make all the decisions, to lead the pack, to… to control… everything.”
“He loves you, Catrina,” Mom said, her voice a gentle caress, her hands never faltering as her needles clicked rhythmically, a soothing melody in the silence of the library.
She understood, she had lived through this same fight for agency, for survival.
“He’s… just trying… to keep you… safe.”
"Safe?" I scoffed, a harsh, bitter sound.
“I don’t need to be kept safe, Mom. I’m not some fragile human. I’m a she-wolf. I’m the Luna of this pack. And I have a responsibility to… to lead. To protect. And to fight for what’s… right.”
“I know, Catrina,” she said, her voice soft, understanding, her gaze meeting mine, her eyes filled with a mother's pride. “And I know… that you will. But… you also have to allow others… to help you. To support you. To… to love you.”
She paused, her hand reaching out to touch mine, her touch a silent reassurance, a reminder of the family I possessed.
“You… you’re not alone, Catrina,” she said, her voice a soft murmur, her words a truth that I couldn’t deny, I wasn’t weak.
“You have… Rowan. You have… Lucas. And you have… Your dad and me.” Her gaze softened, and a hint of humor sparked in her lavender eyes. “Even if we’re… not always… good at… staying out of your business.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, a soft, genuine sound, a release of the tension, a reminder that even in the face of darkness, love and laughter and family could still find a way to prevail.
“I know,” I said, squeezing her hand, her touch grounding me, calming the storm inside.
I looked up at the towering bookshelves, the scent of old paper and forgotten stories filling my senses, a reminder of the knowledge I carried within, the strength I’d found in the past, the destiny I was fighting to reclaim.
“And that’s… why I’m so… angry, Mom.” My voice became a low growl, raw with a grief that was both old and new.
“Because I’m not weak. And I’m not powerless. And yet… I can’t… can’t shake this… this feeling that I’m not… enough. That Lyra’s power… it was… what made me… worthy. And that without it… I’m… I’m just… an omega. Just… just… Catrina.”
My voice trailed off, a confession of my deepest fears, my unspoken insecurities, a vulnerability that made my wolf whimper, the destiny I’d been denied.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Maggie's voice, a soft caress, brought my gaze back to her.
She reached out, her hands gently cupping my face, her thumbs stroking my cheeks, her eyes filled with a mother’s love.
“You are so much more than you think, Catrina. You’re more than an omega, more than Lyra, and more than whatever destiny Korvash has given you. You’re Catrina. And you’re amazing.”
My breath hitched, her words, a balm to my wounded soul, a reminder of the love I’d carried for myself.
For the woman I’d become.
“The power of Lyra… it’s not… what defined you, sweetheart,” she continued, her voice a gentle murmur, her fingers tracing the silver strands that had appeared in my hair, a testament to the time I’d spent in the spirit realm, the power I’d wielded.
“It was… just… a tool. A weapon. But… your strength, Catrina… that comes from… within. From your love. Your compassion. Your… courage.”
She squeezed my hand, her gaze meeting mine, her eyes full of strength, a power that made my heart soar, a recognition of the true Luna, the she-wolf, that I had always been, the warrior I had become.
“You don’t need Lyra’s power, Catrina,” she said softly. “You are already… enough.”
And as I sat there, surrounded by the familiar comfort of the packhouse library, the scent of old paper and leather, the echoes of ancient stories, the warmth of my mother’s love, I knew that I didn’t need Lyra’s power.
I had all I needed within me.
End of The Alpha's forbidden omega mate Chapter 322. Continue reading Chapter 323 or return to The Alpha's forbidden omega mate book page.