Chapter 11

Zane’s POV

I paced around the guest bedroom, my mind racing, my thoughts as chaotic as the storm I could feel brewing inside me.

“What the hell was that?” I muttered, buttoning my pants in a haze, frustration buzzing under my skin like an electric current.

I shot a glance at Lydia, who was still sitting on the floor, wide-eyed, trying to make sense of everything.

“Who is that girl?” I demanded, my voice rough, barely keeping my control.

Lydia blinked, clearly confused. “What girl?”

“The one in the bathroom! The one who left the towels... she just disappeared!” My breath came out in a growl as I grabbed my hair in frustration, trying to make sense of the sharp, intoxicating scent I’d just caught—like citrus, like freesia, a fragrance so beautiful it made my body tighten in response.

I wasn’t sure what happened exactly—just moments ago, Lydia had been... and it had felt fine, until that damned scent hit me.

‘Mate,’ my wolf’s voice echoed inside my mind, a command, a need, sharp and undeniable.

My body froze. “What the hell?” I whispered, my gaze snapping back to Lydia. The question echoed louder in my head: If she’s my mate, why didn’t I feel this before?

Lydia’s scent—coconut-like, warm—had always filled my senses, but this... this wasn’t her. And it wasn’t just the scent—it was a pull. An urge to chase after whoever that girl was.

‘Not her,’ my wolf snarled. ‘The bathroom. She is the one.’

I turned instinctively, just in time to see her—Mabel, my wolf growled her name—disappear behind the door, holding towels like she was trying to escape.

“Stop her!” my wolf demanded. “Don’t let her get away. She’s ours.”

“Mabel,” I murmured, trying to push the words past the tightness in my chest.

Before I could move, before I could react, the door clicked shut, and Mabel was gone.

And Lydia—well, Lydia didn’t feel the same now, not with my wolf growling at her like she wasn’t even a part of me.

I turned back to Lydia, barely seeing her as she sat, wide-eyed, on the floor.

“There was a girl in here?” she asked, her voice slow and almost... concerned.

I clenched my fists. “Who’s in charge of the towels?” I bit the words out.

“I don’t know,” Lydia shrugged nonchalantly, but I could see the slight tension in her posture. “One of the Omegas.”

I didn’t care who it was, but I needed to know where she went. Needed to track her down.

“Find out,” I ground out through my teeth, feeling the frustration boil over.

“Yes, Alpha Zane,” she said, lowering her head with the type of submission that made my blood boil. “I’ll find out and let you know.”

She rushed out of the room with a sense of urgency, and I finally let my breath go. My wolf wasn’t quiet now. He was loud, demanding, desperate.

I couldn’t shake the image of Mabel from my mind—her coppery hair falling in waves down her back, the way she moved, unaware of my gaze. And that sweet, delicate citrus scent.

Lydia... she didn’t matter right now. My thoughts kept drifting back to Mabel. To my mate.

As Lydia’s presence faded behind the door, I couldn’t help but feel... dirty. The smell of her coconut-scented perfume still clung to my skin, and my stomach twisted in revulsion. It wasn’t her—I didn’t want her. Not now. Not when Mabel was on my mind.

I walked aimlessly through the room, my mind locked on the girl I’d just caught a glimpse of. The way she looked, the way she felt, like I needed to be close to her.

I needed to wash it all off. Needed to drown the thoughts, the pull that my wolf kept hammering into my skull.

I turned the shower on full blast, letting the hot water wash over me as I stood under it, my thoughts a blur of frustration and arousal.

The scent of freesia lingered in my nose, stronger now, the sweet citrus note teasing me. I couldn't escape it. Couldn’t push it out of my mind.

“Damn it,” I muttered, hands braced against the wall, trying to control the urge to... feel something other than frustration.

But my wolf wasn’t letting me go.

‘You can’t ignore this. You can’t just leave her.’

“Shut up!” I growled, slamming my fist against the tiles.

I didn’t need this. Not now. Not with everything else weighing down on me. But even as I said that, the image of Mabel—my mate—refused to fade.