All Chapters of 118 Days To Seduce My Omega Mate: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

DAWSONFor the next few minutes, I didn't move. My eyes danced in the maddening thrill that came with seeing her again. My lips stretched into a grin. But I was yet to move. It was just my eyes feasting on her. “Do…do you want me to leave?” She smiled nervously. My brows arched sharply. “What? Fuck, no!” I rushed over to her, pulling her further inside and kicking the door shut. Almost locked it, but I didn't. So she wouldn't get uncomfortable.“Well, you were saying I should get the fuck out…”“No. I didn't know it was you. I'm sorry.” I held her hand, feeling the softness. Every inch of me was madly aroused by just touching and feeling her hands. How hellish it's gonna be for me when I go ahead and hug her. Or even kiss her. “Are you expecting someone else?” She asked, looking slightly bothered. “No. Can you please drop the question? I didn't yearn for you in weeks just to be quizzed in seconds of seeing you again.”She went quiet but her cheeks flushed. Still as prim as ever.

DAWSON“She did what?” My ears stung at Rick Taylor's words. My fingers dug angrily into the cushion as I waited for him to repeat what I thought I just heard. “Joyce blocked her off in the hallway and said really nasty things to her.” Rick Taylor repeated accurately not missing a word that he'd said earlier. “Good thing I stopped her before she could do more verbal damage. I walked Carla to the middle of the compound and then she left.”My wolf was both furious and sad, and so was I. The urge to bust out of my room, find Joyce, and throttle the fuck out of her was wrestled and overshadowed by the sadness, of knowing Carla must have been hurt. She's so fucking fragile. A big contrast to the wild, bitchy Joyce. “Was…was she okay?” The words tumbled over themselves as they made their way out of my lips. I glanced up at Rick Taylor, after his few seconds of suspenseful silence. His brow twitched and he scratched his temples lightly with a finger. “Honestly, she wasn't,” He said, a

DAWSON I watched Carla disappear down the hallway, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. My voice rang out, sharp and desperate. “Carla! Stop!” She didn’t. She kept running, her shoulders set and head turned away, as if the sound of my voice only drove her to move faster. My stomach twisted at the sight. She thought—she thought I had something going on with Joyce. The idea was laughable if it wasn’t so devastating. With a low growl of frustration, I shoved Joyce off me, barely noticing her protest. I couldn’t deal with her right now. I could barely think straight as it was. All I knew was that I couldn’t let Carla go, not like this, not with her believing something that wasn’t true. I took off after her, my legs moving on instinct. My chest burned with every step, but the ache in my lungs was nothing compared to the thought of losing her. As I turned the corner, my heart clenched when I saw her crash into Rick Taylor. He steadied her, concern etched in his features as he lo

UNKNOWN POVThe warehouse was dark, the air thick with the scent of rust and damp wood. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the distant hum of the city beyond the thick walls. He stood near a stack of old crates, watching the heavy metal door. His eyes narrowed as it creaked open, the sound slicing through the stillness.Joyce walked in, her heels clicking sharply against the cold concrete floor, each step purposeful and precise. There was no hesitation in her movements—everything about her screamed control. Her posture was rigid, the lines of her body taut, and the hard set of her jaw told him she wasn’t here for pleasantries. She wasn’t here to play games.He didn’t speak at first, his gaze locked onto her, studying her every movement. She stopped just inside the door, her eyes meeting his across the dimly lit space.“You’ve got some nerve,” he finally said, his voice calm but edged with a dangerous undercurrent. He didn’t step forward, instead remaining hidden in the shadow

SMITHThe heavy scent of pine and damp earth clung to me ashoved sted my tie yet again. My fathr’s insistence that w,e visit the pack felt less like a request and more like a command. He framed it as a gesture of goodwill, a chance to offer condolences to strengthen alliances. But for me, this visit wasn’t about politics or optics.The pack’s territory was quieter than I remembered, subdued in a way that set my teeth on edge. Loss hung thick in the air, pressing down on my chest as I stepped out ,of the car. Carla’s absence was a gaping wound, one I couldn’t ignore.My father, ever th composed diplomat, led the way to the Pack house. His strides were purposeful, his demeanor unshaken. I followed, my thoughts tangled and restless. This moment needed precision, the right balance of sincerity and strategy.When the Dawson’s father opened the door, the grief on his face was undeniable. His bloodshot eyes and slumped shoulders spoke volumes, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a